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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/twisted-fate/twisted-fate-1	Date: Fri, 05 Apr 2024 20:43:12 +0000 From: garbossdanny Subject: Twisted Fate, Chapter 1 Gay-Authoritarian All characters and events in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real events or real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Though this work of fiction may contain sexual situations and/or sexual acts between adults and minors, neither the author condones such situations and/or acts. Comments about this story can be sent to [email protected] Jake looked out over the estate, it was all his, on paper. Yet in spite of the lifestyle he had recently grown accustomed to, he still experienced lingering doubts that it was not for real. He recalled how some time ago, a drunken dare had changed his life in ways he would never have thought possible, except in the plot of a movie from the dank shelves of an adult store. That whole night had been fuelled by booze and the events that followed, led to losing touch with most of the people he had thought of as friends. That one night started a chain of events which led him into a world he had heard existed, though he could never have imagined himself being a part of it. The slave crawled through the screen door, its leash trailing along the wooden porch; announcing its return. It held the leather gloves in its mouth as it made its way over to Jake, the serving tray rested on its back carrying Jake's usual; an expensive Cuban cigar, the custom-engraved cigar lighter, and the other smoking accoutrements Jake had become so familiar with. Jake took his seat on the porch and looked down as the slave carefully took its position beside the wicker chair. Jake inhaled to bursting point, and slowly, deliberately; exhaled deeply. He knew the slave was eagerly awaiting being put to use for the next hour or so, but Jake had learned to take his time, to tease every drop of anticipation from the slave. Reaching down, he took the tray from it's back, setting it down neatly to his left on the small wicker stool. Without looking down Jake held out his hand, and the slave released the gloves from its mouth into his waiting palm. The slave kept its head low as it waited on all fours, its cock strained against the steel cage it wore, though the codpiece of its jockstrap was darkened with pre-cum secretions, and it drooled from the taste of nicotine infused leather. Jake bent forward and slowly pulled on the spit slicked leather gloves only inches under the slaves bowed head; his own manhood beginning to swell in his jeans. The gloves conformed to his hands like a second skin; the strong odour of cigar tobacco mingled nicely with the scent of warm, moist leather, in the evening air. Satisfied he was ready to begin; he snapped gloved fingers. The slave bolted up onto its haunches, its head bowed awaiting it's Master's word. Jake drew the cigar under his nose, the aroma so familiar to him, he knew the slave faggot would wait patiently until he required it. As Jake followed his usual evening ritual of preparing his cigar, he thought about how he had come to be in this position... *** "Move your ass Jake, tables six, fourteen, and twenty-eight need service!" Jake hurried out of the kitchen door to the restaurant floor, his mind running on autopilot. He'd been in the job for six weeks and already he hated his boss's guts. Like any manager they wanted everything last year, and treated their employees like personal servants; with disgust and contempt, but he needed the money. His past record meant this was one of the few jobs he could get. Every shift he begrudgingly swallowed his pride and went through the motions like a mindless automaton. His mornings were filled with intervals of channel surfing, and visits to the local gym here and there. Jake did not have an athletic or muscular build, but he was fit as a result of his continued gym visits; standing 6' 3" he was the tallest member of the restaurant staff. In spite of his imposing stature, the other staff did not really take much note of his presence, seeing him as just another bus boy clearing tables. When his shift had finally ended, he was ready to hit the bars with a few of his friends, going through the social norms of knocking back beers and discussing how shit their respective lives were. There was nothing very different about this particular evening; the usual crowd of faceless patrons at the bar, his friends around him clinking bottles, chatting about their latest work exploits, or discussing their current sexual conquests. "Hows `bout we do somethin' different tonight?" "Like what Zack?" "How `bout truth or dare?" Jake scoffed at the idea, "Are we back in high school?" The others were divided in their opinions, a few muttered their agreement with Jake, though most seemed to side with Zack. After only a minute or two of snide jeers and jabs at his ego, Jake relented and started the proceedings. The game started as expected, the participants airing on the side of caution and choosing truth. Nothing revealed was of any real consequence, and the dares were tame at best. It wasn't until the group was expelled from the bar that things gradually escalated. As they all made their way through the streets and towards the rural neighbourhoods the challenges became more frequent and progressively more devious; as each tried to surpass the previous man's dare. Zack's turn had come around again, as they had entered one of the more upscale neighbourhoods, and this time his target was Jake. "Okay Jakey boy... pussy or man's choice!", Zack's feeble attempt at a veiled insult only served to inflate Jake's pride and ego. "Dare me butt-fucker!" The insult was all the motivation and inspiration Zack needed, even in his inebriated state, to give Jake an impossible dare, "I dare you to break in and butt-fuck the guy who lives in that house!" Zack pointed to the opposite side of the street. Jake looked over, the house stood apart from the other buildings in the neighbourhood. The exterior appearance did not give any indication as to the owner of the property. The garden was ringed with a low brick wall topped with metal railings, painted black and tipped with ornamental spear heads, connecting to two bricked pillars, between which stood the tall, imposing gates. Jake scoffed at Zack, "are you on something man? I'm not gonna do that!" Zack grinned inwardly, "Don't be a pussy now Jakey boy. I know the place, guy who lives there isn't married. Name of Gambi, he's part of the network that supply me with my shit," "I don't give a fuck if you are butt-buddies in the shower. Not happening, bro!" The others snorted and gave stifled laughs as Zack taunted Jake; "You scared of getting caught, or scared you're too drunk to get it up Jakey?" Ordinarily Jake would have flattened Zack, but those that had not broken away to head home were all ones who had sided with Zack back at the bar, and despite towering over all of them, Jake still had enough drunken sense left to realise that lashing out would only lead to him being beat down by the group. "I'll make it easier for you Jakey. Like I said the guy ain't married, no kids, or extended family, just him. And, I know he enjoys taking it up the ass, so he'll probably beg for more," Zack laughed, knowing from Jake's history he had fucked men in jail. "Come on pussy boy, if I'm lyin' I'm dyin'!" Jake knew he would never live it down if he chickened out; in a last attempt to force Zack to relent, he countered, "You gonna come with and watch, huh? Zack!" "Why the fuc...." Jake cut him off; "You want proof right butt-fucker?" The others murmured and grunted in agreement, Jake thought he had won out, but Zack only pressed further; confirming he would follow Jake to make sure he delivered on the dare. Moments later the two were on the porch, Zack held open the screen door with his elbow while Jake was knelt working on the lock. In his youth, Jake had been involved in petty crimes of breaking-and-entering and, despite his drink addled motor skills; was still able to pick the lock. It was thanks to the innocuous items he always had on him that he was able to form a makeshift lock-pick. Despite the alcohol, Jake had taken the time to put on his sports gloves which he usually wore to workout, but in this situation; they would at least prevent fingerprints. The lock finally gave and Jake stood up as he slowly opened the door, stepping cautiously over the threshold. The interior of the home did not correlate with the outward appearance. The exterior was wood panel and gave the impression the interior would be small and rustic. Even in the dark, Jake could see the staircase in front of them was white stone or marble, the floor appeared to match, but as Jake took a few steps further he realised the floor was parquet tiled, not stone as it first appeared. As they reached the top of the staircase, Zack motioned Jake to the right, along the hallway towards a set of double doors; immaculately white and plainly visible in the dim light. Jake's pulse picked up as he carefully pushed the door handle down, letting out a silent sigh as the door opened without any sound to give away the presence of intruders. The bedroom, like the entry hall seemed to defy the exterior dimensions of the house, the bed was enormous, and yet there was still a surplus of space in the bedroom for the other furniture. Small chests of drawers at either side of the headboard, a small doorway to the left led to an en-suite bathroom with an opulently sized bathtub. Jake stood just inside the room, surprised at the level of indulgence demonstrated by the furnishings. "Well?" hissed Zack in a whisper, "Come on Jakey boy, lets see the show!" Jake snapped back to the reality of his surroundings, turning his attention to the figure sleeping on the bed. Despite the lavish, all-white bed sheets, the man was laid faced down on the mattress; the duvet in a heap towards the foot of the bed. From his time in the clink Jake was not unfamiliar with penetrating another man, though he had loathed the act every time circumstances demanded he perform it. Zack waited just inside the door as Jake gently approached the bed. Assessing the situation, Jake carefully removed one of the numerous pillows from the side opposite the sleeping man, moving into position, he carefully laid it on the bed as he prepared himself mentally for the deed. Thinking back through his past sexual encounters, he forced his manhood to stir and swell. Pulling down the zip of his pants, and pulling out his member, he slowly stroked himself to full erection; turning his head to make sure Zack had not chickened out. Sure enough, Zack was stood in the doorway, watching as Jake stood there holding his hard cock in his hand, Zack jerked his head slightly and gestured a fist bump; egging Jake on. Taking time to silently slide a condom over himself, and take out his pocket knife, Jake picked up the pillow with his other hand and resigned himself to carrying out the dare. With brute force, Jake slammed the pillow down over the sleeping man's head, and jabbed the pocket knife to his throat. "Make a sound and your dead faggot!" Jake growled, as the man's body jerked in alarm at the rude awakening. Keeping the knife point pressed against the side of his victim's throat, Jake climbed onto the bed and straddled the man. "Don't fuckin move bitch!" Jake pricked the skin with the knife, and the man's hands jerked up, fingers spread widely in fear and surrender. The man's word's were inaudible due to the pillow covering his head, but Jake pressed the point of the knife in harder, "Shut up faggot, and maybe you'll see the sun later!" Keeping the knife pressed cruelly at the neck, and carefully taking his other hand from the pillow, Jake let a thick glob of spit drop onto the rubber sheathed head of his prick, moving it to a good angle to force himself inside his victim. At the time Jake did not dwell on it, but his dick easily entered all the way to the base, and the muffled groans of the man beneath him; sounded the same as the other times Jake had been forced to rape another man. Wanting to complete the deed and get out, Jake took hold of the man's shoulder with his free hand and proceeded to withdraw his cock, before thrusting savagely back all the way in. From past occasions of the same, the savage merciless persona he had been forced to cultivate asserted itself; as he repeatedly withdrew all but the tip of his manhood and thrust its full length back in without remorse. "Fuck yea, that's daddy's good girl!" Jake grunted as he thrust harder and faster, "Make daddy feel good princess!" Jake remembered the feelings of excitement accompanied by sex, and of self revulsion at fucking a guy; but he continued to focus on the task of fucking, ignoring that he was fucking a man's ass hole, rather than a woman's vagina. Feeling his balls drawing inward, Jake tightened his grip on the shoulder, keeping the knife point held firmly in place, "Here it comes precious, daddy's special sauce!" Jake felt the hot fluid of his sperm squirting out and covering his shaft inside the rubber he wore. Breathing heavily, he released his grip of the shoulder, and turned the pillow to expose the back of the victim's head, whilst still keeping his face covered. Still deep inside, Jake leaned forward and instinctively planted a wet, sumptuous kiss on the buzzed head of his victim. Turning his own head slightly towards the ear he gruffly whispered, "That's a good faggot. Sweet dreams bitch!" Quickly, Jake slammed the side of his balled fist into the base of the man's skull; the body jerked in spasm, and fell limp beneath Jake. Waiting only briefly to ensure he was out cold, Jake proceeded to pull out and stepped off the bed. Zack was still standing in the door way, gesturing silent applause; though it was unclear if he was sincere, or mocking him. Jake shot a glare at Zack as he pulled the condom from his cum smeared cock; hurling it in his direction. Forcing his still stiff manhood back into his pants, he watched as Zack carefully crept forward into the room, "Fuck Jakey, you are a mean sonofabitch!". Jake did not respond, turning to look the room over once more. Zack finally reached the same area of the room, his question whispered with a mild tone of curiosity and alarm, "What you doing bro?" Jake again ignored Zack and took the watch and wallet from the night-stand. After pocketing the watch, he proceeded to remove the bills from the wallet and throw it on the bedroom floor. Turning to Zack he explained, "I'm making it look like robbery dumbass!" "Okay, okay! Damn, didn't know you call girls were so hormonal bout getting paid!" Jake snapped, swinging a back hand blindly behind him. He heard the crunch as his blow connected squarely with the centre of Zack's face; breaking his nose. Zack cried out in pain as he stumbled back holding his face, "Jesus Christ Jake! Fuck you! I'm outta here!" Jake turned, catching sight of Zack just as he bolted out of the room. Grunting at his so-called friend's cowardice; he turned back to continue searching the room. There was nothing else of value on the bedside tables, so he turned to look elsewhere. A dark wood box caught his attention on the large chest of drawers beside the bathroom doorway. Jake inspected it closer, believing it to be a jewellery box due to the ornate, yet puzzlingly blank plaque on the edge of the thick lid. Opening it, Jake was surprised as the strong smell of tobacco drifted into his nostrils. Peering into the interior Jake realised he was looking at a humidor full of cigars. The deep brown cylinders were stacked neatly on top of each other, some still in their cellophane wrappers. Sitting in a compartment within the lid were a few other items; the one which caught Jake's eye was the gold lighter. On impulse Jake removed the lighter and decided to grab a few of the cigars. Pocketing the items Jake made another cursory inspection of the room, before finally deciding to leave. By now the effects of the beers he had consumed were all-but worn off, and his savage rape of the homeowner had served to make him more alert. Jake's post-coital high was shattered as he approached the top of the staircase. Patches of red and blue light flashed just around the corner; there were cop cars in the driveway of the house. Franticly, Jake looked around, seeing a door on the opposite wall as his only means of escape, he carefully entered; closing the door behind him as a voice called out, "Police! Show yourselves!" They would soon be entering, and Jake was panic-stricken; in the past he had been busted for petty theft, breaking-and-entering, and criminal trespass, but now he had committed assault, sexual assault. Jake swiftly surveyed his new surroundings; the new room was only slightly smaller than the bedroom. The room was a home gym, weights stacked neatly on shelving, a bench press, a treadmill, and a mirrored wall. Jake could hear the muffled footsteps of the officers ascending the staircase as they called out again, "Police! Come out with your hands where we can see them!"
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/twisted-fate/twisted-fate-4	Date: Fri, 09 Aug 2024 19:20:07 +0000 From: GarBossDanny Subject: Twisted Fate Chapter 4 All characters and events in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real events or real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Though this work of fiction may contain sexual situations and/or sexual acts between adults and minors, neither the author condones such situations and/or acts. Support the Nifty Archive with donations to maintain the site, and continue to keep the content available Comments about this story can be sent to my email. Returning the tools to their case, Johnson pushed open the door as he stood up from his knees; the scent which wafted through the widening opening was thick with stale sweat and tobacco smoke. After allowing his nostrils to acclimatise to the odours, Johnson stepped into the small apartment closing the door behind him. The short hallway opened into a single room which acted as living and sleeping space as well as a kitchenette. The fridge, sink, and small cooking hob were all on the back wall to his right, the floor was covered in a carpet which at some time in the past was possibly beige or tan, but through lack of maintenance the colour had significantly darkened to an almost black; faint traces of lighter shades could be seen just beneath the sofa which sat in the centre of what little space there was in the dwelling. As he stepped forward into the room proper Johnson noted the door on the left wall, the room was dark but the tiled floor indicated this was the wash room. The main living area had little decoration, a single shelf with a few paperback books, a low coffee table with a few beer bottles and a full ashtray. The gym bag his mark had been carrying was dumbed haphazardly by the coffee table, the only window in the room lead out to the obligatory fire escape. Below the window sat a footlocker, the edge of a vest poked over the rim; clearly this was Jake's solution to having no closet space for his clothes. `Huh, wonder what Mr Santino sees in this guy?' Johnson's mind considered his employer's sudden interest in the man; having worked for Mr Santino for a number of years Johnson was aware of his employers unusual proclivities, though he rarely allowed himself to think too deeply about them. He was well paid when his services were called upon, but mostly he was kept on a generous annual retainer. Johnson was sometimes not called on for months at a time and was able to live comfortably on the retainer alone, but when he was tasked, he always found the money more than generous for his labours. Returning his mind to the task he had been set by his employer, Johnson tugged on the wrists of his gloves; flexing his fingers as he prepared to go through Jake's things. Taking care to return things to the way they had been, or as close as possible, Johnson went through the footlocker and the gym bag; Jake's possessions were simple. Aside from two sets of suit pants, and two white shirts which were neatly folded and kept in plastic dry-cleaning bags at the bottom of the footlocker, the rest of Jake's clothes consisted mostly of sweat pants, shorts, tank tops and wife-beater vests. All of the sports wear was tossed casually into the footlocker without consideration for neatness. As he returned the items to their original places, he removed his pocketbook from the inside of his jacket and noted down the information Mr Santino had asked for, on the opposite page he noted down his own observations about the man's slovenly attitude towards his clothes; making particular note of the fact he kept the shirts and pants properly stored whilst everything else was casually dumped into the footlocker. Turning his attention to the shelf Johnson noted the books were of no particular value; cheap, dime-store paperbacks of no significance. Moving back to the centre of the room, he knelt and felt below the coffee table, sure enough his hand grasped the edge of a cardboard box. Drawing the item from under the table, it was a shoe-sized box which contained numerous pieces of paper; letters, flyers, and wage slips. `Bingo!' Johnson chimed in his head as he started to flick through the papers; taking a moment to note the name and address of the restaurant where Jake worked. Finding little else of significance or use, Johnson returned the box to the underside of the table where he found it. Satisfied he would find no other information of value Johnson rose to his feet and started back towards the door. The sound of the key jiggling in the lock made him freeze for only an instant; having taken in the layout of the apartment Johnson knew without thinking he would never be able to get past Jake, nor did he have time to leave by the fire escape. His only choice was to duck into the bathroom, and hope Jake did not need to answer nature's call; Mr Santino had made it clear that he did not want Johnson to become known to Jake for the moment. Moving quickly Johnson slid through the open door into the bathroom as he heard the apartment door open. Jake's voice boomed out as Johnson settled into the nook behind the bathroom door, "Fuck you Bron! You'll get your rent when I'm fuckin' ready to give it to you!". The sound and force of the door slamming closed sent minor vibrations through the floor of the apartment. Johnson waited patiently in the dimly lit bathroom, surveying the surroundings the room was cramped and had only a small vent through which air flowed to the outside; there was no window through which to leave. The toilet and sink were adjacent and a small cubicle with shower and taps stood in the opposite corner to Johnson's hiding place. Jake's cussing brought Johnson back to the moment, peering through the crack between the door and the wall he was unable to see Jake at first, but within moments the man came into view as he dropped onto the sofa. From his location, Johnson could not see Jake clearly, but he knew even though the man's back was to the doorway any attempt to extricate himself from the apartment would likely draw attention. From his time serving in the armed forces Johnson knew if it came to a fight he was more than capable of holding his own against a man of Jake's size and build, but he was under instruction not to come face-to-face with the man and so could not risk a confrontation. With his options limited Johnson knew he would have to wait, and watch. Jake reached down to his groin, his member was still stiff from the events at the bar. Despite trying to force his mind in other directions when walking back to the apartment, he had failed to calm his erection. His mind kept wandering back to the feelings of the moment, how Zack had tried to trick him into drinking a bottle of piss, the rush of power as he had man-handled Zack and forced him to swallow the contents of the bottle and the wad of ash from the cigar he was smoking. The fresh memories and rush of hormones all fuelled the tension in his groin, as he casually rubbed himself through his pants his mind leapt back to the events that took place that night in the man's house. As he replayed the events in his head, Jake gripped the shaft of his cock through the fabric of his pants, his breath emerged as a deep-seated growl from the back of his throat as he remembered ramming himself deeply into the man's throat. It had felt so warm, and slick as the spit, drool and throat slime washed over his cock, the lack of resistance had allowed him to pleasure himself completely without consideration of the other participant; that feeling of complete freedom excited him even as just a memory. The pent up frustration and the friction of his hand easily worked the load from his cock, air escaped between his teeth as his member throbbed and spurted the load into his underwear. Johnson tilted his neck as he tried to adjust the angle of his view through the small crack; Jake was moving towards the bathroom door. Holding his breath calmly, Johnson waited, his every muscle lightly tensed; ready to defend himself should he be discovered. Jake entered the room heading straight for the shower cubicle; the sound of running water confirmed to Johnson the man intended to wash after pleasuring himself. Within moments Jake was in the shower, the splashing of the water and the dissonant sound of whistling caused Johnson to risk a glance from behind the bathroom door. The man was washing behind the translucent shower curtain, his back was facing the door. Without thinking about it Johnson half crouched as he slipped from behind the door to make his move. Gliding swiftly from the behind the bathroom door, into the living room, and towards the exist, Johnson carefully opened the door and left himself out into the hall. As he slowly and silently closed the door behind him, he audibly breathed a sigh of relief at his escape. Unwilling to push his luck further, Johnson made his way back down the stairs to the lobby area. Stopping at the desk he slapped his still gloved hand on the front desk, causing the aged clerk to jump in surprise. "W-w-hat d'you want now mister?" Johnson smirked as he saw the tremor in the clerk's movement, "Relax Bron," the man's eyes widened at the mention of his name, "Pay Jake's rent with that tip I left you, but remember..." John slipped open his jacket to show his holstered weapon, "I was never here, understood!". "Y-y-ye'sir!" Bron stammered as his eyes fixed on the weapon. Letting his jacket fall closed Johnson's lips twitched a smile as he watched Bron start to back and turn away, "Call me a cab Bron, and remember, don't give me a reason to come back!" --- Gambi sat at the head of his dining table; slowly working through a plate of rare steak and steamed vegetables, all-but swimming in peppercorn sauce. Johnson was seated to his right, though he was not eating dinner, Gambi watched as Johnson turned the cigar in his mouth, puffing lightly as Gambi's butler held the long wooded match being used to light the cigar. Several puffs of smoke rose from the edges of the cigar as Johnson breathed life into the tobacco, the end burned red-orange as Johnson nodded to Capes he was satisfied with the lighting. Gambi swallowed his food before dismissing the man-servant, "That'll be all Capes," "Very good m'lord," the man's heavy British accent had not changed in all the years he had been in service to Gambi. When the two were alone Gambi set down his knife and fork and turned in his chair to face Johnson. "You were successful Johnson?" Johnson grinned around the freshly lit cigar, "You know I take pride in my work Mr Santino," "I pay for the best Johnson, so I expect nothing but!", Gambi retorted, his tone was in jest, but the expression on his face was serious. "Your new man is Jake Pearson, works as a waiter at the Cerulean Crustacean..." Gambi quickly interjected, "Did you get the measurements Johnson?" Reaching into his jacket, Johnson pulled out his pocketbook, tearing out the page he slid it across the table to Gambi, "Yes sir. Don't suppose you'd care to tell me what you have planned Mr Santino?". Furling his brow but smirking, Gambi countered, "I thought you weren't interested in how I spend my leisure time Johnson?" Smoke jets shot from his nose as Johnson snorted, "I don't need to know Mr Santino, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious what you have planned for the guy". Taking a hit of the cigar Johnson exhaled the smoke slowly across the table towards the empty chair opposite himself, "I usually fix the ones who don't know when to keep their mouths shut. From what I've been told by Vinnie, this guy doesn't fall into that group?" Gambi picked up the torn page and seemed to ignore the question as he looked over the list of measurements Johnson had taken from Jake's clothes. Returning the page to the table, Gambi picked up his utensils and set about cutting the steak on his plate. Adopting his authoritative tone, Gambi spoke without taking his attention from the food on his plate, "He is a natural Johnson. I will spare you the details of previous events, suffice to say you are being well paid, and will continue to be so long as you can do what I require!" Realising he was beginning to sail close to the wind Johnson opted not to press, "Understood Mr Santino". The two men sat in mostly silence for an hour as Gambi slowly consumed the meal on his plate, Johnson did not let on that he saw Gambi eyeing the cigar cleanched in his jaw, especially when he broke the ash off using the edge of the large ornate ashtray which Capes had placed on the table for him. As Gambi set down his utenstils on the empty plate, he flicked his fingers towards Johnson. Accustomed to Gambi's eccentricities Johnson knew to summon Capes back to the dinning room; rising from his seat he moved over to the corner of the room behind Gambi's right. With his still gloved hand he pulled on the bell pull hanging from the ceiling, waiting to see if Gambi wanted to disucss anything further with him. Capes entered the dinning room from the side-door to Gambi's left, his baritone voice rang out as he stepped into the room, "You rang, m'lord?" Gambi waved his hands to the table as he stood from the chair, Capes set about clearing the plate and silverware as Gambi started for the exit; Johnson followed silently closely behind him. Leaving the dining room Gambi turned left as he entered the main hall of his house, heading down the hallway to the left of the main staircase. As the hall turned to the right, Johnson knew Mr Santino was heading for his study, clearly he wanted to discuss the next phase of whatever he had planned. As Gambi opened the double doors on the left wall, Johnson entered behind him, stopping to close the doors behind them whilst Gambi moved towards the back of the room. Gambi sat at his desk whilst Johnson seated himself in one of the two chairs across the desk from him. The two men sat in silence for a moment as Gambi adjusted his belt and shuffled in the chair, Johnson smirked at the man's movements. Finally, Gambi clasped his fingers together as he leaned foward placing his elbows on his desk, "I will cover your expenses for this project Johnson, on top of the usual stipend I pay for your services," Johnson's face indicated his puzzlement at the word `expenses'. Removing the cigar nub from his jaw he exhaled the smoke absent mindedly at Gambi, "What expenses Mr Santino?" Gambi smiled wickedly, "You are going to become Jake's new best friend Johnson!"
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/twisted-fate/twisted-fate-2	Date: Tue, 07 May 2024 19:26:29 +0000 From: GarBossDanny Subject: Twisted Fate Chapter 2 All characters and events in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real events or real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Though this work of fiction may contain sexual situations and/or sexual acts between adults and minors, neither the author condones such situations and/or acts. Support the Nifty Archive with donations to maintain the site, and continue to keep the content available Comments about this story can be sent to my email. Gambi heard a shout as he stirred sluggishly on his bed; his head throbbed, as did his innards. A groan passed his lips, as he tried to recover his senses, his hand rubbing the back of his head. Light flashed into his eyes forcing him to screw them closed, letting out another groan in protest of the brightness shining over his face. "Mr Santino?! Are you alright, sir!" Gambi grunted his assent and moved to pick himself up from the bed. Another officer approached the bathroom checking the corners as he went, looking for the perpetrator. "Dispatch this is forty-two, send EMTs to 1623 East Lake Drive, over!" the officer holstered his weapon as he dropped to eye level with Gambi. The man was dizzy from the blow to his head, slumping back down to the bed, he waved his hand to gesture he did not need medical aid. "Dispatch, cancel that last," "Roger-roger Vinnie!" came the response over the radio. The officer returned his attention to Gambi as he knelt beside the bed, "Can you tell me what happened Mr Santino?" Before Gambi could respond shouts came from down the hall, "Freeze! Hands! Up!" Gambi's mind recalled the earlier events; the feeling of a blade to his neck, a clothed warm-body against his naked flesh, the long absent sense of fulfilment from serving an alpha male. As he tried to turn over, he felt the bedsheet peeling away from his ball sac and cock; he had shot a load from the savage fuck he had endured. In that instant something clicked deep in Gambi's soul. The person found by the officers had to be the one who fucked him so ruthlessly; exactly the kind of man Gambi had been searching so long for. Still groggy from the blow to his head, Gambi struggled to think how he could prevent the police from arresting this man. His cock stirred at the thought of being able to live in service to a true alpha. To him, his life was painstakingly routine. Each day he would host meetings, or conference calls, in the evenings his meals were served in traditional fashion, but whether he dined alone, with business associates, or members of his social circle; something was always missing. Even the men Gambi hired to fill the void in his life felt like facsimiles of the `real deal'; professionals merely providing a service. Whilst these men were each good at what they did; to Gambi the experiences were always lacking. The escorts would go through the motions of dominating him; they could act the part and say the right words, for brief instants it would seem as though they meant it; but they would break character and check on his well-being, making sure he was enjoying the experience. The aftercare was the worst part for Gambi; being asked if he was happy with the session, completely shattering the impression of serving a dominant, alpha male. Those he had encountered always seemed to react the same way when they discovered who he really was, and who his connections were; they seemed to lose their edge. "One in custody Vinnie, we're taking him downstairs to check him over," another officer poked his head through the bedroom door. The cop he had called to looked over and began to reply when Gambi's hand quickly seized his wrist, "Not... him..." Gambi gasped; the desperation in his voice, reinforced by the look in his eyes. Vinnie looked to Gambi with an expression that was at first puzzled, but he quickly understood what the man was trying to tell him. Standing up, Vinnie went over to the bedroom door, and removed the robe that was hanging on the back. Returning to the bedside, he assisted Gambi in putting the robe on to cover himself. Vinnie led Gambi out into the second floor hallway whispering, "I'll take care of it Mr Santino," Jake was pressed against the wall, in the entry hall of the house, surrounded by three police officers; one standing just behind him with the barrel of his gun pressed against the nape of Jake's neck, whilst the other two proceeded to empty his pockets. Jake had been here before, he knew to keep his mouth shut until he spoke with a lawyer, he expected rough handling by the pigs; but always resented them going through his pockets. The cigars and lighter he had taken from the humidor had already been found and put onto the side table by the door, the officer to his right was about to reach into Jake's back pockets when a voice called out, "Hey Jimmy! It's all cool, he's one of Santino's, uncuff him!" Jake was confused as the officer behind him returned his weapon to the holster, jangling his keys loose from the loop of his belt, to remove the handcuffs. Before tonight, Jake had never heard of Gambi; he was not even sure which neighbourhood they had wandered into. His mind pondered the possibility of the cops being dirty. After hearing a name like Santino, his mind recalled all the retro police-drama shows involving crime-families with cops in their pocket. His train of thought was interrupted by the officer named as Jimmy, turning to call up to the officer beside his victim, "We know what went down Vinnie?" "Someone broke in and was caught in the act by him," Vinnie indicated Jake, "Everyone was asleep, but something woke him up and he walked in on the perp helping himself," the next question was addressed to Jake, "Hey buddy, you get a good look at the other guy?" Jake shook his head, but then felt a sharp slap to the back of it when the officer to his left; clearly the youngest of the group growled at him, "Speak up punk!" Jake saw red, turning to attack the officer, but before he could ball up his fist; the other two intercepted him, "Whoa there big guy", "Easy big fella!" "Please do not assault him," Gambi called out, the voice though calm, seemed to carry some hidden power over the officers; it was clear to Jake there was a lot more going on here than met the eye. Jake relaxed his muscles and the officers released him, the youngest moved away muttering insults under his breath. Jake's eyes flicked to look at Gambi and the other officer still on the stair balcony, they had to be discussing him though he could not make out one word of their conversation. Looks were exchanged between Gambi and the officer, as they made their way down the stairs. The pair of men stopped by Jake, by comparison of their heights alone, Gambi and Jake could have been mistaken for father and son. The officer Gambi had been speaking with turned to Jake asking, "Did you at least land any punches on the guy?". Vinnie raised one eyebrow ever so slightly; indicating he was expecting a particular response from Jake. Jake thought for a second, and blurted out, "I landed one in his face!" The edges of Vinnie's lips twitched, "So that is the perp's blood on the bedroom floor," turning to Gambi, "I'll get it taken care of tonight and we'll be out of your way as soon as possible," Vinnie radioed in the request for a team to attend the scene before gently taking Jake's elbow; gesturing him to follow Gambi across the hall, into another room. Gambi entered first, switching on the lights to reveal what Jake thought was an office, but as he looked around, he realized the room was more like a private library. Shelves of books lined the walls, several tall-backed black leather sitting chairs dotted the room. Jake remained silent, as Gambi gestured for Jake to take a seat. The entire situation was out of this world; he should have been sitting in the back of the cop's car, being grilled about what he was doing there, but he was sitting in an insanely comfortable leather chair being treated as an old friend. A few whispers were exchanged between Gambi and Vinnie, before Vinnie spoke up, "We'll take care of things Mr Santino, everything is in hand," as he turned to leave he addressed Jake, "Sorry buddy, never got your name in all the commotion?" Jake hesitated for a moment, but from the corner of his eyes he noticed the relaxed expression on Gambi's face; his eyes seemed to be desperately trying to reassure him everything was fine. Conflicted and unsure, Jake bit his lip as he decided to answer the cop, "I'm Jake!" Vinnie pursed his lips, but said nothing more as he left. Jake turned and leaned over the arm of the chair to watch as Vinnie closed the door. Jake was surprised when he turned back to see Gambi had removed his robe, and was kneeling with his head bowed, only a couple of feet from the chair where he sat. Finding himself in such a precarious predicament, Jake was irritated, and this was conveyed as he spoke to the naked man in the room, "Just what the fuck do you want faggot?!" Gambi did not look up, but his cock twitched as he responded to the words and tone Jake had used, "To serve you Sir," Gambi's head still lightly throbbed from the earlier blow, but presently the throbbing he felt the most; was his own heart through his ears. Kneeling in front of this alpha male, bearing clearly his desire to be of use to him; he awaited the man's next words with baited breath. "What the fuck does that mean?" was the reply he heard. Whilst the sentence was clearly a question, the tone and brute force of the low voice that spoke made it come across as an order. Gambi was excited by the tone, but the hint of uncertainty kindled the minute traces of doubt he always felt, when he engaged in this kind of thing. Desperate for the previous cycles not to repeat, Gambi placed gentle emphasis on his first and last words, "Anything you order, Sir?" Jake tensed slightly in the chair, still trying to comprehend the situation he had got into. He had broken into a stranger's house; at least a stranger to him, on a stupid dare to butt fuck a guy. Sure he had fucked men before when he'd spent time in jail, but that had only ever been for the sake of blending into the faction culture when they passed their `bitches' around. Refusing never went down well among the various groups, gangs and brotherhoods; if you weren't a fucker, you got fucked! Jake turned the last words the kneeling man had spoken over in his mind, focusing on his use of the word anything. Jake already figured, whoever this guy was, he was definitely a man of means. His bedroom alone was bigger than the small room Jake was forced to rent. Quickly, Jake stopped following that train of thought, as the police were still in the house, if he started demanding money, the guy could easily turn on him and he'd end up back in the sights of the cops. For a long time neither man said anything. Jake was looking at the man kneeling in the room; now he saw him in full light; he could tell the man was similar to him in build, though only just over half his height. He was not slim, nor athletic or muscular, but he did take care of his body. Unlike Jake; the man's arms, and chest had no ink, and his groin region was devoid of pubic hair, as was the rest of his visible body. Rising to his feet, Jake decided to wade a little deeper into the water of the situation. Ignoring the kneeling man, he explored the room he was in. The shelves, full of books, contained no titles he recognised, though one set of large volumes were clearly a fancy encyclopedia collection. Turning his attention to the desk, he noticed another dark wood box; practically identical to the one he had opened in the bedroom. Opening the lid, sure enough it was filled almost to the top with cigars of various lengths and thicknesses, and like its bedroom twin, the lid insert held a lighter and other implements Jake assumed were functional as well as decorative. "Would Sir like a cigar?" Jake barely heard Gambi's whisper, which sounded like a plea than a question. His prison mentality kicked in; he answered as though he were talking to a cell mate, "You'll know when I want you to open your mouth bitch," Gambi's dick jumped at the growled response, which radiated raw power and authority. Jake turned his attention back to the humidor; he'd smoked cheap cigars before, much smaller than the ones in front of him, sometimes barely thicker than cigarettes, but clearly the tools inside the lid were used somehow with these larger, thicker cigars. Jake was unsure how to make use of them, so he decided to try out the service offered. Making his way to the nearest of the armchairs in the room, he sat down heavily, kicking off his boots; one of which was flung casually to hit Gambi in the ribs. The man jumped at the sudden impact, but he quickly returned to his haunches as he whispered, "Thank you Sir," Jake's mind did not register the words, grunting in amusement at Gambi's reaction, he lowered his bulk into the chair; laying back in a slouch. When he was finally comfortable, he looked at the man, who was still knelt looking at the floor. "Well faggot? Where the fuck is my cigar!" Gambi both started and quivered at the gravelly tone of Jake's growled demand. Crawling on all fours, like an animal, he made his way over to the desk; rising on his knees, he kept his eyes on the open humidor as he asked, "Does Sir have a favourite cigar?" "What is this? Twenty fuckin questions cunt? Gimme my cigar faggot!" Gambi quivered again, as he selected one of the cigars from the humidor. He had always found the scent of cigars and cigar smoke arousing, but despite trying to become a cigar smoker, he could never fully enjoy the taste and flavour when he had tried to smoke himself. The paradox which to this day he could never explain to himself, was why he could enjoy the smell and taste of second hand cigar smoke, or the other things about cigars he craved to enjoy as a subservient. Drawing himself back to the moment, Gambi selected a 60 ring cigar, 8 inches long; one of the bandless variety that were sold by one of the cities local tobacconists. Carefully he tested the leaf of the cigar, firm, yet still ever so slightly moist; perfectly stored, waiting for a man to enjoy it. Taking the lighter and a guillotine cutter in his other hand, Gambi crawled towards the armchair where Jake waited. When he finally reached Jake, Gambi thought about asking permission to prepare the cigar, but he did not want to risk the man deciding to leave because he was getting annoyed. Kneeling back on his haunches Gambi dared a glance up at Jake's face. His eyes were met with a piercing, stern glare, that clearly conveyed the man's impatience. Setting the lighter on the floor, Gambi set about preparing the cigar for the man he saw as his new Master. Jake watched, trying to avoid being caught staring, as the man knelt on his heels and went to work. He slid the flat end of the cigar into his mouth, turning the object around between his lips; gently moving it a little deeper with each turn. Jake thought for a while this was the guys way of trying to ask him for permission to suck his cock, or just what all faggots do when something round and firm is shoved in their throat. He was slightly surprised when all but one inch of the cigar had disappeared down the man's throat; he was clearly well practised in performing this kind of trick. Gambi withdrew the length of the cigar after ensuring it was thoroughly moistened, parting his thumb and finger, he slid open the guillotine cutter and inserted the rounded-end of the cigar between the blades. With the cigar positioned in the cutter, he raised it over his head, with the shorter length pointed towards his gaping mouth. Clicking the blades closed, he sheared the end from the rest of the cigar. Jake watched in sick fascination at the floor show, as the man caught the falling cutting on the end of his tongue and seductively rolled it into his mouth. The manner in which he moved his jaw exaggerated the size of the object in his mouth, which Jake thought was just another facet of a faggot trying to excite a man. Finally his Adam's apple twitched as he swallowed the wad of tobacco, and reached for the lighter. Jake watched as the lighter expelled a powerful jet of blue flame, which the man held close to the end of the cigar; moving it around just at the edge of the flame. This continued for a while before the kneeling man released the lighter flame and inspected the burnt end of the cigar. Jake quickly stopped him as he was about to put the cigar in his own mouth; snatching it from his hand, he growled aggressively; "Gimme that, you piece of shit!" Gambi's head slumped in shame as he offered the lighter up like a packet of stolen candy. Jake grabbed the lighter with his other hand and clicked the flame to the end of the cigar. He was not prepared for the intense buzz as the first hit of smoke entered his lungs; he was barely able to suppress the urge to cough. His pride forced him to keep himself in check as he slowly continued to light the cigar; maintaining a composed facade. Finally after a few minutes, the cigar had a glowing orange head, and Jake was able to take some time to catch his breath. His heart pounded in his chest, his lungs protested at the diminished level of oxygen, and his head swam from the buzz of the strong cigar. Jake clenched the cigar between his teeth and realised the lighter in his hand was incredibly hot from lighting the cigar, which caused him to suddenly drop it to the floor. Glancing down to check he had not started a fire, he returned his attention to the man kneeling in front of him; his head still bowed and his hands behind his back. Neither of them spoke as Jake continued to slouch in the chair, slowly smoking the cigar, gradually forming a veil of cigar smoke towards the ceiling of the room. Jake noticed the man's dick was fully erect; standing almost vertical against his flesh, he assumed the man was gay and into some freaky shit, given his mannerism and the obvious physical reaction. Eventually, Jake could ignore the pressure in his bladder no longer, or the growing ash on the end of the cigar. Looking around the chair towards the desk, he was puzzled by the absence of an ash tray or other receptacle for cigar ash; there were no fancy items in the room that could have doubled as an ashtray. The lump of ash would soon fall off, so Jake asked in a tone that was still firm but clearly inquisitive, "Where's the ashtray fag?" Gambi did not speak, or look up as his arms moved; offering his cupped hands towards Jake. Not wanting to question the man's reasoning and still not completely sure of himself, he dabbed the end of the cigar in the bowl of the waiting hands. Gambi's body twitched at the intense heat, but no sound emerged from him. Jake's bladder protested still, and he could see no other exit from the room except the one leading to the entry hall. Whilst the police were still present, they had not disturbed the door since Vinnie had left some time ago. Jake looked down at Gambi, "I gotta take a piss," Gambi lifted his head slightly lowering his palms; keeping them together to avoid dropping the ash. He shuffled closer to Jake and moved his face towards the man's crotch. Jake was buzzing from the cigar; his head swam in a blissful sea of smoke-haze, his sick curiosity forced him to watch in silent fascination. Gambi struggled, but persisted never the less, to use his tongue to flick the zipper of Jake's pants; trying to take it in between his teeth. With great care, Gambi tugged outwards and downwards; gradually working the zip down, to avoid catching on the man's underwear. Jake's cock stirred at the sound, and sensation of the man slobbering at his groin. Taking another hit of the cigar, the rush of sensation through his body allowed him to relax as the smoke from the cigar filled his lungs. Using his nose to carefully probe the opening of Jake's fly, Gambi breathed slowly and deeply; drinking the scent of the alpha in front of him. After a few minutes of Gambi trying, and failing, to get a grip on Jake's underwear, his impatience returned; thrusting his hand down into the open fly of his pants, Jake pulled out his semi-flacid, uncut manhood. Gambi's cut cock had developed a shiny covering of pre-cum during the present encounter, he felt his brain firing multiple neurons in excitement; as he gazed longingly on the man's natural, and unspoiled cock. More accustomed to dealing with prison bitches who had long hair like women, Jake remembered that the head before him had no hair which he could use to hold onto. Biting down on the cigar in his jaw, he instead took one of Gambi's ears as he straightened the malleable member in his hand. Slipping once more into his prison mentality, he goaded the man beforehim, "Open wide. Here comes big daddy!" Gambi's mouth practically engulfed the bulbous, skin covered head of Jake's cock. Letting go of his dick, Jake's hand moved to grasp the man's other ear; gripping tightly as though he were screwing up a sheet of paper in each hand, he growled down at the head held firmly between his thighs, "Don't you fuckin make a mess little bitch!". Relaxing his muscles as best he could while his cock lay in a warm, moist mouth; Jake started to piss. Gambi tasted traces of cum from the earlier fucking and felt that same scent assail his nostrils, as he held the first two inches of the alpha's cock in his mouth. Carefully he formed a seal with his lips, taking care to keep his teeth from touching the flesh. His ears burned from the pressure of the gloved hands gripping them. A growled command preceded the taste of hot, strong, acrid piss flowing into his mouth. The sensation caused his olfactory centre to go into overload, and sent trills of electricity throughout his body. He struggled to keep up with swallowing what felt like a never ending flow, of divine nectar from a god, and to keep his body from convulsing as his cock involuntarily squirted thick streams of cum. Jake noticed a warm, moist feeling on the top of his foot; at first he thought some of his piss had been spilled, but quickly he realised this was not what he was feeling. His flow came to a trickle and then stopped altogether, he started slightly as he felt the man's tongue working its way under his foreskin; lapping up the dregs of his piss. The rough edge of the tongue lashing against the head of his cock, produced the normal, human-reaction; he felt his blood flowing into his cock, gradually stiffening to fully erect. Quickly he jerked the mouth off his cock forcing the man's head away from him. Gambi was surprised at the sudden movement, but still did not utter a word of protest at the treatment. Jake looked down and saw the stains on his sock and the carpet close by; clearly the guy had shot his wad whilst drinking his piss. Feelings of contempt and disgust filled his mind; he had another man's cum on him, the finger of his hand pointed accusingly towards his soiled foot and the dark patch on the carpet, "Look what you did! You fuckin' queer piece of shit," The words began as a shout, but Jake quickly remembered the police presence, and lowered the volume of his voice to a deep growl of anger. Gambi shuffled back to make room, as he laid flat on his stomach; pressing his nose to the carpet like a shamed dog. Leaning forward in the chair, Jake noticed the lump of ash by his foot, forgetting this was not his home, he looked down at the naked man as his finger pointed towards his foot, "Clean that shit up fag!" Jake expected Gambi to simply scoop the ash up or wipe the cum away with his hand, but instead he found it amusing how things were developing. He watched with a strange sense of inherent order, as the man used his feet and heels to push himself forward like some kind of vertebrate worm, along the trail of cum towards the lump of ash; shifting his head back and forth, running his tongue along the fibres of the carpet, as he slithered forwards. Without raising his head to look at him, Gambi whimpered, "faggot is sorry Sir, please teach it to a lesson Sir," Jake felt his dick twitch; he was confused, but oddly aroused by the way the man spoke and behaved towards him. He'd only ever had sex with men as a demonstration of his own masculinity whilst serving time, and during that time, he'd only ever had blowjobs from prison bitches when he was tired of jacking himself off to dirty magazines. The power trip he was on as a result of Gambi's complete disregard for himself; his seemingly unquestioning obedience and self debasement, was stirring Jake's cock in a way he had not experienced before. He watched with perverse satisfaction as Gambi extended his tongue, using it like a scoop on the grains of ash resting by his foot. He was sexually excited, and only slightly disgusted by the sight of Gambi licking up the ash. Deciding to test his newfound power a little further, Jake lifted his foot from the floor, placing it firmly on the back of Gambi's head, "Clean that shit good faggot! If that carpet isn't perfect, it's gonna need to be replaced," Gambi eagerly ran his tongue across the carpet, until there was only a dark patch; damp with his spit where the ashes had fallen. Adjusting his position to make himself comfortable once more, Jake kept his foot resting on the man's head as he replaced the cigar in his jaw; "Now stay fuckin still `til I need something," For a while, Jake sat and just ignored Gambi; lying on the floor, nose pressed to the carpet. Jake considered the situation, and wondered just how far he could go before Gambi cried `uncle'. He had either lied to the police, or they were `in his pocket', but either way how would he react if Jake were to do something he did not like. The way in which he behaved towards Jake indicated subservience, but his home, his furnishings, the fact he had two humidors full of expensive cigars; all demonstrated clearly, that he had money, and most likely power. For the moment at least, Jake settled on the conclusion that the man was happy as a pig in slop, to be treated like a slave in his own house. Jake came back to the moment once again, when he noticed the ash on his cigar had grown too long. Removing his foot, he barked down at the man, "Turn over faggot!" Quick as a shot, Gambi flipped himself onto his back, and looked blankly at the ceiling. Seemingly anticipating Jake's need for an ashtray, his mouth was already wide open, his pink tongue glinted in the light; slick with saliva. Jake leaned over the chair arm; the leather of the upholstery creaking as he adjusted his body. Taking the cigar from his jaw, he aimed the object vertically as he began to slowly lower the tip of the cigar towards the waiting mouth. Dabbing the end on the wet surface of the tongue; there was a brief hiss as the smouldering tip came into contact with the moisture, the ash broke away in a neat mound. Gambi had screwed his eyes closed whilst the cigar was lowered, but even when it made contact with his tongue; he did not flinch, or even whimper. Jake's cock was completely swollen from the blood pumping through it, his ball sac ached to shoot another load; he needed to fuck something. Darting to his feet, he growled, "On your knees faggot!" Gambi rolled over onto his belly, quickly lifting himself up to sit back on his heels. Replacing the cigar in his jaw once again, Jake took a deep inhale as he turned to face the kneeling man. Stepping forward, he savagely clamped his still gloved hands around either side of Gambi's face; pulling the man's head forwards and upwards to meet his manhood. Gambi's mouth sprang as wide open as was possible; to accommodate Jake's swollen cock. Holding the head firmly in his grip, Jake thrust forward with his hips; forcing his cock to the back of the man's throat. Gambi quivered as he struggled to widen his throat to take Jake all the way to the base. The obstruction in his throat caused him to gag, and Jake felt warm, slimy fluid wash over his cock. Jerking his cock out of the hole, he released his grip and swung a backhanded blow at Gambi's head, "Open your fuckin throat-pussy faggot!" Realising he had just struck the owner of the house he had broken into; Jake expected him to cry out for help, but Gambi surprised him again, letting out a choked, pleading whimper of apology, "Sorry... Sir..." Jake took a long hard toke on his cigar and deliberately exhaled the thick stream down at Gambi's head. The man did not look up, his arms remained behind his back, his hands clasped together. From the angle of his head, Jake knew the man was staring at his spit-dripping cock. With the cigar comfortably between his teeth, Jake took hold of the man's head again; "Try again cunt!", he chided as he thrust his slimy cock, firmly down the man's throat. The gargling sounds that were being made as he thrust and withdrew further aroused him. Despite the surge of hormones, Jake willed himself to breathe slowly as he sucked hard on the now sodden cigar clenched in his teeth. He had to fight to keep himself from biting through the cigar, his body relished the satisfaction of fucking a warm and moist mouth; even if it was another man's. By the time Jake needed to ash his cigar again, he was ready to bust his nut. Glaring down at Gambi; smoke trailing through from mouth and nostrils as he grunted around the cigar, "Don't... fuckin swallow... this wad.... Fuck!.... I need... to snuff this.... thing.... Jesus! Fuck!" Jake felt Gambi's throat contracting around his cock, the sensation was new to him, and the man's lack of resistance gave the impression he relished the abuse of his body. Gritting his teeth against the cigar, trying to keep from crying out at the top of his lungs, the words emerged from Jake as he felt the surge of sensation throughout his body; "Here! It! Comes! Faggot!". Jake thrust forward as hard as he could. His cock jerked in the spasm of orgasm, as he expelled burst after burst of hot, viscous fluids. Emitting a deep primal growl, he jerked Gambi off his cock, and took a final hard pull on the cigar. Bending slightly forward, his gloved hand clamped around the man's lower jaw; gripping tightly, he took the cigar nub in his other hand. With the smouldering cigar stub between his fingers, he glared down evilly at Gambi; as their eyes met, Jake saw acceptance in the man's face. Gambi extended his cum covered tongue and screwed his eyes closed; bracing himself for the cigar. Jake felt his cock spasm again but no fluids shot out, the rest of his body seem to pulsate from a second minor orgasm, as he slowly lowered the cigar toward the `ash tray'. Gambi braced as he felt the intense heat of the cigar build on his tongue. Suddenly there was an intense sizzle and sharp pain surged through his tongue for an instant, but he would not resist, this is what he had always wanted. To service an alpha male; no matter the use he was put to, he desperately needed to serve a true alpha male, and somehow, he would convince this man that he could do anything he wanted. Gambi's life was meaningless without this alpha to give him the purpose he desperately craved. The rapping sound on the door, snapped Jake out of his power trip; his pulse raced in panic that Vinnie or one of his colleagues was about to enter the room. He started to quickly shove his still-hard cock back into his pants. Despite the sudden shift in the man's behaviour, Gambi was still in awe of the man's use of him; gently he laid his fingers on Jake's wrist, his eyes dared a glance up to his face trying to dismiss his concern. Jake looked down, the man's mouth was still holding the cigar stub he had just extinguished; the man was smiling calmly around the lump of tobacco, he seemed to be saying everything was fine. Still unaware of just who it was that was on his knees in front of him, Jake was unwilling to take the chance; he quickly took the cigar from the man's mouth, and gave an instinctive nod as he stuffed the item into the pocket of his pants. Gambi swallowed the cum-load with an audible gulp, before looking up at Jake with a different expression. Still at a loss for words, Jake simply nodded his head again; his posture and manner passing off fear as mere agitation. Gambi spoke in that tone Jake had first heard when he and Vinnie were conversing at the top of the hall stairs, "What is it?" The voice that answered was Vinnie's; "Just wanted to let you know Mr Santino, our boys have finished in the upstairs bedroom. We'll be in touch if we need your man to I.D. the perp. Have a good night Mr Santino," Glancing around the room, Jake located the antique clock in the centre of a row of books; the hands indicated the time was 3:50 A.M. Cursing under his breath; he remembered he was down to work later today; he could not afford to be late, or to call in sick. Jake looked down at Gambi and cursed again, "Fuck, shit, damn!" he finally managed to get his cock back into his pants and pulled the zip back up, "I gotta get back faggot, I gotta get some sleep! This was fun". Jake quickly retrieved his shoes and slipped them on; not stopping to properly tie the boot laces. As he started for the door, Gambi whispered in his subservient tone once more, "Please... wait Sir!" the plea was so pathetic Jake could not help but grin to himself. Stnading at the door, his hand on the door handle, he sighed trying to calm his frustration of the man's seemingly needy attitude. Drawing breath, he gave voice to the irritation he was feeling, "Wait for what faggot! I gotta make a living, and I don't have time for a needy cunt!". The obvious attempt at dismissal had the opposite effect on Gambi; he wanted to serve this man more desperately, "Please Sir, this faggot has never felt so fulfilled than it has been whilst serving you Sir. If Sir will permit the faggot, it will provide for all Sir's needs... all Sir's desires". Jake tensed; the night had been eventful, and he was thankful not to be on his way to jail as a result of the idiotic dare, but this guy was out of his mind. Gambi interpreted Jake's hesitation as complacence; crawling over to just behind him. Jake turned around and started, seeing Gambi just behind him, "Get the fuck away from me fag!" Jake used his foot to push Gambi away. Gambi rolled, landing on his back, "Sorry Sir," he whispered without moving. Jake pondered the man's statement, about providing for his needs and desires, his mind raced as he tried to fathom a hidden meaning behind the phrase; his stomach churned in protest, it was uneasy from smoking such a strong cigar. Jake turned back to the door, laying his hand on the knob once more to leave but something made him hesitate again. Gambi lowered his eyes to look at Jake's back, in his mind he was begging, pleading for the man to stay; picturing all manner of perverse services he could perform for him, how he could bask in the glory of being degraded and humiliated by this man. He was clearly an aggressively assertive alpha personality, and this excited Gambi to near frenzy. In that moment Gambi realised he would need to gently guide his new Master towards understanding that he was a slave at the core of his soul, his desire to serve a real man; a man who could make use of him in whatever way he wished, a man he could take care of and through his service, attain fulfillment of the void he felt in his life. "Please Sir..." Gambi whispered cautiously, "If Sir will permit, slave can show Sir to his rooms, if Sir wishes to rest," Jake squeezed the door handle again; trying to will himself to walk out of the house, but the way that Gambi addressed him both sickened and excited him. He turned around, noticing Gambi had not moved from where he had fallen when he kicked him away, he snorted in amusement as how meek the man behaved. Walking back towards him, Jake decided to try a different approach to make the man retract his supposed offer; reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the battered remains of the cigar he had shoved there earlier. Flakes of charred tobacco leaf spilled out and drifted down to the carpet, Jake held the cigar up for Gambi to see clearly, "Open your mouth faggot," Without question his command was obeyed, Jake aimed carefully and dropped the cigar into the waiting hole. Having spun as it fell, the cigar nub landed across Gambi's face and rolled to the floor. Jake flicked his eyes following the path of the cigar; which Gambi interpreted as an order to retrieve it. Rolling to his stomach, he crawled after the cigar like a pig on the trail of truffles. Jake watched with fascination as Gambi took the remains of the cigar between his teeth and turned to face Jake like a dog. Their eyes met again, Jake's expression was unreadable, Gambi's eyes were full of longing, pleading. Eventually Jake realised he was waiting for the next order, finally, Jake obliged, "Eat it!" Gambi complied, the strong acidic taste was vile in his mouth, but he refused to disobey. Fighting down the urge to gag, he chewed the spit soaked cigar into a soggy lump of tobacco. Choking as he willed himself to swallow, he forced it down, opening his mouth wide to demonstrate his compliance. Jake was dumfounded by the man's unquestioning obedience; and he bemused that his cock was again twitching at the spectacle, but the feelings of disgust still lingered. He struggled to understand what was happening, he knew he enjoyed the power trip of abusing the man, but at the same time could not understand how another human being could willingly accept such treatment; voluntarily debasing themselves on the say-so of another without physical coercion. Turning away to leave again he heard Gambi following him on all fours, Jake opened the door to the entrance hall. Finding the place deserted, and devoid of any sign of police presence he relaxed, knowing they were alone. For an instant he considered venting his frustrations violently on Gambi, but chose not to press his luck, in spite of the man's apparent masochistic tendencies. As he moved toward the now closed front door, he caught sight of the items he had lifted from the bedroom humidor, still where they had been placed by the officers when he was being frisked. This prompted him to remember he still had the watch stuffed into his back pocket. Given Gambi's submissive demeanour, and his disregard for police assistance whilst being abused and violated; Jake decided to pick up the cigars and lighter. Turning to the front door he finally settled on leaving the house, putting the suggestion of spending the night out of his mind. Gambi, who had crawled naked into the hall, decided against trying to persuade Jake further, he knew if he pressed too hard, he would only push the man out the door faster; he would have to tread carefully to steer Jake towards realising, and accepting that he was a natural Master in need of a slave.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/twisted-fate/twisted-fate-3	Date: Mon, 10 Jun 2024 20:52:03 +0000 From: GarBossDanny Subject: Twisted Fate Chapter 3 All characters and events in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real events or real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Though this work of fiction may contain sexual situations and/or sexual acts between adults and minors, neither the author condones such situations and/or acts. Support the Nifty Archive with donations to maintain the site, and continue to keep the content available Comments about this story can be sent to my email. Almost a week had passed since that night, Jake continued to endure the berating condescension of his supervisor at the restaurant, but instead of his usual evenings at the bar, he instead spent the time at his apartment revisiting the events of that night in his mind. Neither Zack nor any of his friends had attempted to contact him to check he was alright, but this was hardly surprising to him. Zack was probably more concerned that Jake would rat him out to try to save his own skin. Friday was like any other lead up to the weekend, Jake had finished for the afternoon, and was glad to have the weekend to himself. Though his thoughts still drifted occasionally back to the nights events, he focused on heading to the gym to work out the tension he felt. After spending a good 30 minutes on the treadmill, he shut off the machine and stepped down. Looking around the area he spotted Zack and their mutual friend Sammy at the bench-press. Zack noticed Jake by the treadmills and gestured with a partially clenched fist towards his own face, his mouth slightly opened as his left cheek bobbed outward from his face. Jake's temper stirred at the gesture, but he held himself in check; having no wish to start a fight in the middle of the gym. Ignoring the pair Jake picked up his sweat rag and water bottle, moving from the treadmills to the weight rack to work on his arms. After a while, Zack and Sammy came over as he was returning the weights to the rack. Jake paid them no mind, as he pulled the stopper from his bottle to chug the last of his water. Zack finally broke the silence as Jake walked towards the changing rooms, "So... what happened to you Jakey?" Jake suppressed the urge to pummel Zack, responding flatly, "Nothin'" Zack's expression matched the surprise and suspicion in his tone as he responded, "Nothin'?! How did you get out of there?" Jake assumed from the question that Zack had probably left before the cops pulled up, but he did not offer an explanation as he opened the locker to retrieve his gym bag. The question that followed carried poorly veiled anger, "How'd you get away you slimy cunt?" Exhaling deeply through his nostrils, Jake turned to face Zack as the smaller man continued to speak, "I got outside and could see the flashers down the road, so I ran to the side fence and hid in the shrubs," pausing to draw breath he continued, "when the cops got out and went inside, I hopped the fence and..." Jake growled as he quickly injected, "You slithered away like the fuckin snake you are Zack!" Turning to Sammy, who had also been among their small group that night, Jake probed, "What about you Sam, where'd you and the guys end up?" Sammy would have been content to let the two continue, but having been drawn into the conversation, he filled in the details for Jake, "We hung around for a while after you jimmy'd the lock. A few moved a little further down the street but when we saw the flashers in the distance we got out of there," Jake did not find this surprising; guys like them had no business in an upbeat neighbourhood like that. Tossing his shorts into the gym bag, he strode nonchalantly naked towards the showers, Zack followed behind throwing more questions at him. Sammy followed the pair, but did not attempt to participate further in the talk. The showers area was open, Jake stood under the jet of water rinsing the sweat and oily residue from his body. Zack continued to try to pump Jake for information, "So Jakey, what did happen after I left you love birds alone?" Jake ignored the question and continued to rinse off his sweaty body. Zack continued to dig, probing for more information but Jake continued to stonewall him. After their shower the three men were dressing at the lockers; Jake closed the clasp of a heavy watch which caught Zack's attention, "That's from the other night Jakey?" Jake turned to Zack but did not verbally admit the watch was the same he stole from Gambi's place, though Zack knew from the look in his eyes it was the very same. Tiring of Zack's feeble attempts to interrogate Jake, Sammy decided to change the topic, "So Jake you wanna grab a couple of beers with us?". Jake thought about it and agreed, though he decided to drop his gym bag home first. As the trio reached the street the sun was already setting; the occasional car driving by on its way home from the daily commute. Jake was the only one to notice the unusual vehicle parked a short distance away on the opposite side of the street. The unblemished, black SUV was out of place in this area of the city, the side windows of the vehicle were deeply tinted glass making it impossible to see through. The man behind the wheel was wearing a suit, his eyes hidden behind mirrored sunglasses, the front passenger wore the same sunglasses but Jake noticed the man was dressed more casually as he lowered the newspaper he was reading. For a moment Jake wondered who the pair were, and why there were in the neighbourhood, but he was brought back to his side of the street by Sammy's question, "So you wanna head over now Jake?". "I'm gonna head home and dump by shit," indicating the bag slung over his shoulder, "I'll see you at our usual haunt". Zack and Sam acknowledged the response and the three parted company. Jake made his way through the streets to the nearest bus stop, checking the time by the watch on his wrist. Glancing back down the street he could see movement in the front of the SUV, but he was too far away to tell what the two men were doing. Trying to ignore the vehicle he pulled a flattened packet of cigarettes from his back pocket and tapped out a stick. After lighting his smoke and taking a few drags he exhaled a thick, billowing cloud of smoke that trailed upwards in the still air as he waited for the bus to come. *** The driver turned to speak to man sitting in the back seat of the SUV, "He's the one Mr Santino?" Gambi adjusted the square in the breast pocket of his tailored suit, "Yes Johnson, he is perfect. He just needs to accept who he really is". Johnson turned back to face forward and shrugged, he had never understood the perversions of his employer, but his position as one of Mr Santino's men more than compensated for some of the unusual things he had been exposed to over the years. Gambi watched Jake from afar, his shaved cock leaking pre-cum into the jockstrap he wore beneath the suit pants, he wanted so desperately to feel Jake tearing his way deep to the core of his being, with the same masculine brutality of their first encounter. Here was a man who possessed the raw masculine energy he craved to be around, but he would have to subtly manipulate him to bring the inner pervert to the surface. Many years of searching had brought him into contact with various types of dominant, but they all felt hollow; they were just going through the motions or were concerned about his well-being; Jake was clearly different. The man he craved had seemingly violated him on a whim, and if Gambi had been a truly religious man, he would have sworn that Jake was sent by god to give his empty life meaning. Lost in his thoughts, Gambi was brought back to reality when the passenger spoke "Better get moving Johnson, he's on the bus!". "Yea, I see that, keep your panties on Vinnie!". Following the bus at a discreet distance, taking care to stop just far enough up the road to keep the bus in sight and keep an eye out for Jake getting off. After 8 or 9 stops Johnson was able to pick out Jake on the side-walk through the gym bag he carried, "He's on foot Mr Santino,". Gambi leaned forward squinting to pick out the form of the man he saw as his Master, "Follow him Johnson, but don't engage with him. You know what to do, find out what I want to know, and report back to me!" Ducking his head back into the vehicle Johnson confirmed, "You'll be at home Mr Santino?" With a slow nod Gambi responded, "Yes. Vincent will drive me home after I have made a few stops to take care of some other business". "Yes sir," Vinnie shifted from passenger to driver seat, commenting coyly as he held out the newspaper he had been reading, "You better take this. The suit makes you stick out like a sore thumb in this part of town," Johnson smiled, amused at Vinnie's jibe as he took the paper from the man. --- Johnson maintained his distance as he followed Jake, though he did not have long to wait before Jake climbed the steps of a rundown apartment building. He was grateful Jake had not turned around whilst being tailed; his attire made Johnson stand out amongst the hobos and addicts populating the streets and adjoining alleys. He surveyed the building Jake had entered; his choices for a vantage point were limited. A bench a short way off from the stairs, or an alley on the opposite side of the street with a few bodies hovering just in the shadows. Neither option was ideal, the bench whilst closer would mean he faced the wrong way, the alley offered an ideal view but he would have to deal with its present occupants. Being no stranger to intimidation, he opted for the latter. Dumping the newspaper in a trash can, he undid the buttons of his jacket and moved his sunglasses to his breast pocket as he approached the alley. "Spare some bread mac," one of the men moved to block Johnson as he turned into the alley Johnson maintained a relaxed posture as he stared down the sunken-eyed man in his way, "Beat it!" The thick jangle of chain links made his ears twitch as the two other men came into view. One carried a folded length of dark iron chain, the other a short length of planking with bent nails sticking out of one edge. The first spoke again, "That ain't too polite, huh guys?". His companions muttered in agreement as the three advanced on Johnson. Not wishing to waste time, Johnson reached inside his jacket and in one fluid motion drew his pistol. The barrel was already equipped with its silencer; Johnson had learned that it saved time to keep the appendage on his weapon, and had had his shoulder holster modified to allow him to maintain a slick draw despite the added weight and length of the weapon. The advancing trio halted with their eyes fixed on the weapon, "I said beat it!" Johnson repeated calmly, aiming the pistol at arms length towards the leader. Panicked, the first of his companions dropped his chain and turned to run back down the alley into the growing twilight. The leader and his remaining companion held their ground, but even in the low light Johnson noticed their sickly pallor was sheened from the sweats of withdrawal. To emphasise his threat, Johnson swiftly aimed the barrel low, and fired a shot. The projectile rebounded at the remaining man's feet. He jumped as the bullet bounced and grazed his leg. Dropping his weapon he fell to his side clutching at his shin, the leader turned to look at his companion and this was all the opening Johnson needed. Quicker than a panther he rushed forward and struck the man in his temple with the base of the pistol, rendering him unconscious before his limp body hit the ground. Johnson turned his gaze and noted the last assailant scrambling to pick himself up and limp away. Satisfied, he returned his weapon to the holster under his jacket. A half hour passed, Johnson waited patiently in the darkening alley, the growing shadows mingling with his black suit jacket and pants; making it easy for him to hide without the need for any other cover. The sun had all but set, the street lights dotting both sides of the roadway were starting to flicker to life as evening fell on the city. Jake finally emerged from the building wearing faded jeans, a grimy off-white wife-beater, and scuffed heavy work-boots. Johnson noted the half smoked cigar in the edge of his jaw as he watched. The man carried himself with an air of confidence, much like some of the other men he had seen his employer associate with; he began to understand what his boss saw in Jake. A further ten minutes went by after Jake had turned off the street; Johnson wanted to be sure he would not be interrupted should Jake return unexpectedly. Stepping from the shadows into the light cast by the street lamps, Johnson crossed the road to enter the apartment building. The interior was dimly lit, the chequered tiles of the floor; originally laid black and white, were a mix of browns and black from a lapse in maintenance. An overweight, aged clerk sat behind the front desk listening to the radio; the atmosphere reeked of stale cigarette smoke and filth. Johnson approached and the clerk started at seeing such a well dressed man entering the premises. Johnson calmly asked the man, "The guy who just left, the one who came in earlier with the gym bag. Which apartment is he living in?". The clerk retorted in an accent that clearly hailed from Eastern Europe, "Got a badge?". Johnson smirked at the man's attitude; tilting his head to the side with a questioning look in his eyes, he pulled his jacket open to reveal the holstered pistol he was carrying. The clerk's eyes darted from the weapon to Johnson's face, his posture shifted betraying his alarm, "If its Jake you're after, leave me outta it, 4-D, top floor, end of the hall on the left," Letting his jacket fall back in place Johnson's hand reached inside as if reaching for the weapon. The clerk panicked, "Hey mister, what're you doin'?" he stood up sharply, pushing his chair back as he pressed himself against the wall. Johnson's hand emerged holding not a weapon, but another metallic object holding folded bills. His smile did little to calm the clerk as he unclipped the bills and tossed the cash on the counter, "Easy old timer". Gesturing for the man's silence with the finger of one hand, and reminding him of the pistol with the other, Johnson turned towards the stairwell leading to the floors above. --- Jake knocked back his second beer, and finished his cock-and-bull story about how he hid from the police and escaped out of a back window. With no-one absent from their usual group, it was clear the police had not approached any of them, making the story all that much easier to believe. Jake had entered the bar reeking of cigar smoke and had only recently dumped the butt in the table's ashtray. Zack had the nerve to insist Jake should share his spoils with him, as he had been there too, but Jake had shot him down; reminding him he was there as an observer and had bolted once the deed was done. The evening was filled with boring conversation and drinking, though Jake deliberately paced himself so as to avoid a repeat of the last night he was out with the group. He need not have concerned himself; the others too seemed conservative in their consumption. As time passed Jake became increasingly uncomfortable among the group and announced he was going for some air. To his surprise Zack chose to tag along with him as he left the tap room, entering the beer garden at the back of the venue. The exterior was less crowded that the interior; the beer garden was surrounded by a high wall, with only the back exit of the bar leading into it and a fire-safety door in a back corner; barely visible under the creeping vines of some plant which had clearly not been trimmed in some time. The various tables and benches were all but empty save for a few patrons seated close to the back entrance of the bar. "So Jacob," Zack used his proper name which meant he wanted something, "you were pretty good at getting the door open the other night, you looking for some action?" "From you Zack? I'd sooner take it up the ass from an AIDS infested monkey," "Thought that was your regular Sunday mornings Jakey boy," Zack shot at him with a look in his eyes that made Jake see red. Jake lunged at Zack taking him by surprise. His balled fist landed squarely in Zack's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. The sudden outburst startled the few patrons lingering in the beer garden; two rose quickly from their seats and moved briskly back inside. Zack huffed to catch his breath, clutching at his midriff, he gasped, "What... the... fuck... man?!". Jake's knee connected with Zack's face, knocking him over, onto his back. Planting his work boot on Zack's chest, Jake glared down at him, "Don't fuck with me Zack! I was lucky the other night, and you're lucky tonight. Cuss me again and I'll make what I did to that guy the other night look like love-making. Get me!" Jake rested his full weight on his right foot, Zack hissed as he struggled to breathe under the pressure. As Jake took the weight off his foot, Zack tried to lift himself by his hands. Feeling the opposing force against the sole of his boot, Jake re-applied the pressure, "Did I say you could move pussy?" Taking his last cigar from his back pocket, Jake bit the end and spat the tobacco over Zack. With the cigar held firmly between his teeth he slowly moved his foot to the ground and went down to his knee. "Now be a good boy and light this for me," he held out the lighter to Zack with menacing eyes. Zack reached up to take hold of the lighter Jake held between his thumb and finger, his hand trembling slightly from the recent rush of pain; Jake's eyes fixed on him as Zack clicked the lighter. The blue flame erupted from the yellow metallic cylinder. Angling the flame at the tip of the cigar, the end of the brown cylinder was rotated until it became a bright, flaring mix of red and orange. With a nod from Jake, Zack released the trigger and the flame vanished, Jake took several short puffs before taking a full toke on the cigar. Snatching the lighter from Zack he exhaled a thick cloud of blue cigar haze directly in Zack's face; causing his eyes to water and making him cough profusely. Back on both feet, Jake looked down at the man, "Now get inside, bring me another beer, and I'll call it even". Stepping away, Jake moved over beside one of the bench tables in a corner of the garden; leaning against the wall to enjoy the cigar. He ensured he was facing the entrance, denying Zack an opportunity to jump him; if he was stupid enough to consider retaliation. Scratching at the crotch of his pants, he felt his slightly stiffened member pressing against the wall of fabric; the violence and power had excited him. Several minutes passed before he saw Zack returning with a beer bottle in hand. As he neared Jake noted the uneasy look on the man's face as he held the bottle out at arms length, seemingly trying to stay as far from Jake as possible. Given what Jake had done to him, he was not altogether surprised by the change in behaviour, but knowing as he did that Zack was the devious-type, he did not snatch the bottle from him. Instead, he removed the cigar from his mouth and blew the stream of smoke towards Zack, "You look like you need that more than I do. Go ahead Zack... have a drink". Zack's expression flickered with worry; which was all the proof that Jake needed to know he was up to something. "You deaf boy! I said drink!" the last word was accompanied by that same look which promised violence. Zack still hesitated as Jake replaced the cigar in his jaw. Zack lips twitched as he was about to speak, but Jake was not in the mood the listen to any attempt them man might make to placate him; Jake darted forward catching the bottle in one hand and clamping his other around Zack's throat just below the jaw. Sweeping the man up in a swinging motion, Jake turned carrying Zack like a rag doll as he stepped back the way he had moved, slamming him against the wall. Applying pressure to the Adam's apple he growled, "Open your mouth, pussy!" jerking his knee in threat of a further beating. Zack choked and whimpered as he opened his mouth, with his other hand wrapped around Zack's hand and the bottle, Jake forced the open neck to the man's open mouth. Jake smelled the stink and the warmth of the liquid as it gurgled out of the opening. Zack was unable to swallow due to Jake's grip on his neck; his coughing caused the fluid to fly from his mouth in small drops and jumps. It was not long before the bottle was empty and Zack reeked of urine, forcing the bottle out of Zack's hand, the glass clinked against the paved ground as it rolled away. Jets of smoke escaped the corner's of his lips as Jake took hold of Zack's throat with both hands; leaning down so the ash of the cigar was barely an inch from the man's face. Acting on pure alpha instinct, Jake pressed harder until Zack's eyes began to roll back, and his tongue stuck out as he choked on spittle and the left over piss; with little care Jake touched the ash lump against the pink mass of Zack's slightly swollen tongue. The sudden contact of the hot ash jerked Zack to lucidity, and what little air was still in the man's lungs was expelled in a muffled whimper of pain; a plea for mercy from the giant. As the ash broke off, Jake slid one hand up forcing Zack's tongue back into his mouth and covering it. Releasing Zack's throat, Jake brought his other hand to pinch of the man's nose. Smoke continue to drift downwards from his his lips he growled around the cigar, "Swallow it you little bitch!" Zack squirmed and writhed, trapped between the wall and Jake's immense bulk; desperate for air and to be relieved of the horrible sensation in his mouth. Jake did not release him until he saw Zack's Adam's apple ripple multiple times, when he was sure he had been obeyed, he released his grip on Zack's nose take take the cigar from his jaw. The sound of Zack's deep inhale was like a pig in heat, Jake felt his cock fully erect and ready to burst out of his jeans, but he knew this was not the place to rape the man in his grasp. Instead he pulled on his cigar exhaling the stream slowly towards Zack's nose; forcing him to breathe in the smoke. Zack whimpered like a small child as the smoke stung his nostrils, coughing and spluttering into Jake's hand still holding his mouth. Jake felt the wet of slimy spit in his palm and this irked him. Taking his soiled hand away, and using his free hand, he levered Zack from the wall, spun him around and forced him face first back to the wall. Pressing his body against Zack's he made sure Zack could feel his hard prick pressing through their clothes, "Now you be a good girl and don't fuckin move until I leave," Zack seemed to have mustered some of his courage to retort, "Fuck you!" Jake slapped the back of Zack's head forcing it to collide with the wall again, "Watch your mouth bitch! Do you need stronger rinse!", Jake ground the head of his cock against Zack's left buttock to emphasise the threat. Zack bit his lip holding back tears of rage and to stop himself from further angering Jake, he shivered with fear at what Jake may do next. Jake kept his clean hand on the back of Zack's neck, squeezing to deter him from retaliation, as he trailed the fingers of his other hand down the man's back seductively. When he reached the waist, he prised his first few fingers past the tight waistband causing Zack to jump in alarm. "Don't you move pretty boy!" Jake applied extra pressure to Zack's neck, keeping him pinned against the wall with the weight of his body. Jake took hold of the edge of Zack's underwear and gave a savage tug to pull it up and out. The sound of ruptured stitching and the hiss of Zack's breath filled the air as Jake freed enough of the fabric for his purpose. "Move, and I hurt you worse!", Zack's head bobbed slightly in acquiescence as Jake released his grip on the man's neck and proceeded to use the exposed, sweat dampened fabric like a wash cloth; cleaning the slimy ash-infused spit from his stained hand. When he was finished he removed his cigar and leaned in close to Zack's face, by now his cheeks were moist with the tears he had been unable to prevent from escaping. "Don't fuck with me again boy. Understand?!". Zack did not speak, screwing his eyelids closed, to protect his already stinging eyes, from the cigar smoke that was escaping from Jake's mouth; merely nodding his head with whimpered gasps of breath, which Jake found immensely satisfying. "Good girl. Now, stay. Daddy's gonna head home". Jake gave Zack one more slap to the back of the head as he stepped away, keeping his eyes fixed on the man until he had all but reached the doorway. Jake turned to enter the bar; those that had been observing parted like scattering roaches as he moved towards them. No-one seemed to call him out on what had happened, if they did he did not hear them over the music of the jukebox. Grinning round his cigar, and still horny from the altercation, Jake crossed the taproom and left without saying goodbye to the others at the booth who were still oblivious to the events in the beer garden. Stepping out onto the side-walk he adjusted the stiff appendage in his jeans; he knew he would need to beat off when he got back to his apartment.
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/ranger-dave/ranger-dave-3-4	Date: Tue, 31 Oct 2023 12:44:20 -0400 From: buddbuster Subject: Ranger Dave Series chapters 3 and 4 Ranger Dave Series: Chapter 3 Remember to donate to Nifty, without your donations this website wouldn't be possible! Description: Alaskan tourist Ray and Park Ranger Dave continue their wrestling match in the Park... will Dave be declared the winner or will Ray triumph and become the new alpha in Alaska!! Protagonists: Ray : Avid Outdoorsman traveling Alaska; 55 years; 5'6" and 190lbs Ranger Dave : Park Ranger; 60 years; 5'10" and 290lbs ---------- Chapter III and Chapter IV - written from Ranger Dave's perspective Chapter 3 -- Ranger Dave is Forced To Accept a Second Challenge I, Big Dave, slowly get back to my senses. I try to comprehend what just happened. This little punk showed up at my cabin and started mouthing off. He clearly wanted to get his ass kicked so we started brawling. Can't believe I got owned by this shrimp. I swallow and taste his cum in my mouth. Damn, he fucked my face. Not sure what he did but he made me like it too. What the hell. What came over me? I am confused. My gut is drenched in my own cum and I am hurting all over. I struggle back to my feet. I rest on all fours for a while to recover. Eventually I get up and collect my clothes. I notice that the asshole took my briefs and my iconic suspenders as his trophy. I pull my pants and shirt over my cum-drenched body and walk to my cabin holding my pants up. I wake up the next morning. I remember the last night and still can't belief I got owned like that. I am the big cheese in this park, feared and respected. Have wrestled and beat many guys. I feel humiliated by being defeated by a much smaller guy and by the fact that the taste of this guy's cum is still lingering in my mouth. I am glad nobody was around to witness the beat-down. I need to keep that to myself. God knows how nosy my ranger colleagues can be, I think, as I pull out my backup suspenders and get dressed for work in my ranger uniform. I walk into my office and start work. About an hour later I hear my colleague (fat Walt) talk to somebody outside my door. Walt's a big burly guy like me but in contrast to me, he's more fat than muscle. I have more of a bearish build with a firm belly and firm arms. Walt is flabby and has caught a lot of crap for that from me over the last few years. There is laughter and other noises next door. I can't focus with this noise so I open the door to put an end to it. As I open the door I see the fucker from last night standing there talking to Walt. I am confused and worried. What the hell is he doing here? He turns his head, looks at me and reaches his hand out. Let me introduce myself," he says, "My name is Ray". He stares deep into my eyes as he shakes my hand. "I see, Ray is the fucker name," I think to myself as I squeeze his hand hard. With shock I see that Ray is wearing the suspenders that he took from last night. My suspenders are iconic. They are wide bear pride suspenders with the words "Big Dave" written on them. I don't think there are many of those around. Both Walt and Ray are looking at me. "Damn", I think, "does Walt know that this guy owned his boss?" "Did Ray tell him about how he beat me up and owned my throat?" "Did he recognize my suspenders on the asshole?" I nervously lick my lips. "What's going on" I say, trying to sound my confident self but feel like I failed. "Not much," Walt says with a smirk on his face (why is he smirking). "This guy", he points at Ray, "has broken down with his truck on that lonely side road in the park. He wondered if you could come help him out?" "Me?", I say, "Why don't you go instead?" I swallow nervously. "Don't you remember that you told me to get that dirty shed cleaned up first?" "Yes," I respond. It is better that Ray isn't hanging around Walt for too long anyway, so I decide to agree, "Fine, I'll go". "I'll come out once I am done" Walt says with a smile. I don't like that idea at all. Who knows what is going to happen once Ray and I get into it out there. I don't want Walt to see any of it, so I say "you don't need to come out. I got this." Ray sees right through me. He likes seeing me nervous so he responds, "it's pretty deep in the dirt. Maybe Walt should join us later." He walks over to me and squeezes my biceps. "You don't look like your strong enough to pull my car out by yourself!" Walt chuckles as Ray wears a cold smile. "Walt, don't you have work to do," I sneer angrily to chase him out the door. As he walks by Ray, he grabs one of Ray's suspenders straps. "Nice suspenders, stud! Don't you usually wear this kind, boss?" "Yes," I say, "what a coincidence!" I laugh but it sounds way too nervous. I walk Ray to my truck. I am fuming inside but there are too many witnesses here and I decide to be patient. As we reach my truck, Ray surprises me with a quick move. He puts his arm around my neck and put a strangle hold on me. "Don't you try any funny business on the way out," he hisses in my ear." I have Walt's cell on speed dial and he's gonna know right away. "What do you want?" I say angrily. "We'll wrestle once more, fat boy. If you win, I'll leave you alone. If I win, which is likely," he chuckles, "you'll have to accept me as your master. You'll also have to give me a job in your shop so that I can have your throat whenever it pleases me. And remember, if you won't comply I can always Blackmail you". He shows me his phone, which has pictures of me on my knees sucking Ray's dick. Damn, I look him up and down. He looks tougher with my suspenders on. "I accept", I say. Not that I have any choice. We pull up to where his car is. As I get out of my truck, Ray reaches over and smacks my ass. I growl. I step outside and look around. There's a large meadow where Ray as cleared a square of all branches. As I look further I see a big duffle bag in one corner. I wonder what that is. "Strip down and put on these." Ray throws me pink tight high-rise wrestling trunks. I hold them up and see that there is big font writing on their front. The word "COCK SUCKER" is staring me in the face. "Fuck you, I am not gonna wear these" I say. "You better put those on or do you want me to text Walt one of those pictures?" Damn. I growl and strip down. As I pull down my white underwear I notice my dick is semi hard. Ray sees it and laugh. "Seems you are my big fat jobber bear already". I quickly pull the pink trunks on. "Let's get this over quickly", I hiss. " I am going to own your ass this time" ..... ---------- END OF PART III PART IV -- Defeated and Owned - The Ray vs Big Dave Saga Reaches Its Conclusion Ray tears open his shirt, buttons flying. My dick hardens from the great show of strength. He pulls off his pants and reveals black speedo-type trunks. He flexes and turns around to show me the back of them. "Champ" it says in big letters across his ass. I pull my pink trunks high up on my belly and say "I am going to make you eat them trunks when I am done with you, fucker". "Big talk from somebody who's breath still stinks like man cum", Ray laughs. "Let's wrestle. My dick wants more of your mouth, fat boy". He takes a pose and move closer. We circle each other in anticipation. He stares me down with a determined look trying to intimidate me. I won't let him get to me I think to myself. I am the bigger, stronger man. I'll own his ass this time. I move in closer and lunge forward trying to grab him. He anticipates the move and steps aside. He grabs my right arm and wrestles it on my back. He's got me in a hammerlock. He pushes from behind, tripping me, and I land on the ground all sprawled out. "FUCK". He grabs my legs and rolls me to my back. My legs are being spread out wide and he's ready to stomp my balls. Instinctively I reach down to protect them, yet instead he takes his heel and rams it into my wide open gut. Ooof -- I roll to the side. He gets on top of me and wraps his hands around my neck in a powerful headlock. I get rolled on my back with him under me as his legs wrap around my girthy belly for a monstrous scissor hold. He squeezes my neck and my gut hard. "That was easier than expected. You are such a pussy" he taunts me. I squeeze out a "fuck you" as I struggle to get out from his holds. His dick is growing against my back as he has me restrained. My head turns red as I try to fight him off with might. With a lot of effort, I pry his arms open and roll on my belly. I push up on all fours and then upright to my knees and pry his legs open too. I drop an elbow on his chest before I roll away and get back to my feet. I am already breathing hard. That took a lot out of me. He's up quickly and much fresher than me. With quick steps, Ray comes at me with a stretched-out fist. While I am not quite ready yet, I somehow manage to deflect most of the blow and we are wrapped in a standing wrestling fight, each trying to get each other to the ground. I am bigger but winded so he somehow manages to get behind me and lock me in a standing Nelson. His remarkably powerful arms push my head forward as his dick is grinding against my ass crack. "Like that hold?" he taunts. All I can do is groan. He pushes forward and I fall down, my face forced in the dirt with the Nelson still applied. His dick is now lodged in my butt crack, with only our trunks preventing him from fucking my ass. He tries to put a locking hold on my legs to restrain me completely. I manage to avoid that, however, and roll on my back with him under me. He has to break his hold and I throw back my head to give him some sort of reversed head-butt. Ray cries out in pain. I roll off of him and sink a couple of deep blows in his gut. I get up and pull him up by his head. "My turn now, fucker" I say breathing hard. I put the fucker in a powerful bear hug, squeezing him hard. He moans and groans. "Who's the pussy now?" I yell at him as he fights to stay in the game. He tries to play dirty tricks but I have his arms trapped to his body. He is trapped and helpless. "You give?" I yell. He groans but squeeze out a "Never, fucker". Ray is one tough guy. Not many can stand my bear hug for that long. Eventually I have to let go and drop him to the ground to recover. "It's playtime for the big ranger now," I say panting. I look down at the smaller man sprawled out underneath me. I can't believe this guy owned mighty Dave last night. I drop on his chest and put a schoolboy pin on him. I start slapping his face around. "Like that, cock sucker?" My dick is tenting in my pink trunks. I grab Ray's head and force it in my crotch. I make him take my cock for a while. Eventually, I reach behind my back and land a few blows in Ray's gut then I let my hand slip in them trunks and start jerking him off. "Remember last night? See how quickly the tide can turn, pussy?" I taunt him. He is essentially beat and he knows it. I hear moans of pleasure and pain emerge from his mouth and I get all turned on by that. Ray desperately needs to get out from under me before it's too late. He sure had this all planned out differently. "Seems you bit off more than you can chew this time, fucker?" I laugh. I know I've won. I flex over Ray's body and continue to taunt him. I lean back to get better access to his dick. This takes some of the pressure off of his arms and he manages to pull them out from under my legs. "Damn" I hiss. Ray is still trapped so he instinctively reaches for the only open target. He grabs a hold of my pecs and squeezes them hard. My eyes open wide from the pain. "Let go of my pecs bastard" I scream. He narrows his reach and starts torturing my sensitive nipples. I moan load, eyes rolling to the back of my head. "Jackpot" he yells out. "What have we here?" He laughs as he continues to torture my nips. "Seems we found your kryptonite, fat boy." I have a RAGING hard-on now from the pain and pleasure of his nip work. My nips truly are my kryptonite. "Get your fucking hands off of me," I yell in desperation. I try to get his hands away from me. I succeed with one but he manages to free that hand and land a hook to my chin. It isn't too hard but enough to roll me to my side. He follows up with a couple of chops to my throat making me reach up to protect myself. I am caught up in a coughing spill while he gets back to his feet. He pulls me up to my knees and then locks his hands on my nips again. I moan loud and throw my head back as my nips get owned bad. "You give?" he yells at me. All I can do is to shake my head. After a while of terrible torture, he suddenly rips his hands away from my nips causing even more pain. He grabs my head and pulls me up to my feet. He pretends to reach for my nips again and I instinctively reach up to protect myself. This leaves my big gut wide open and he sinks a series of deep blows into it. One, ... two, ... three, ... four, ... five. He aims well for the same spot as to soften me up and each blow sinks in deeper. I groan loud. He did some damage. I am bent over. He lifts my chin and has me look at him. "Now its MY time to play" he grows as he land a hard head butt to my forehead. I stumble back, try to stay on my feet. He grabs me by my hair and pull me toward him again. My head goes under his arm pit with his arms around my neck as he sinks another series of deep hard blows in my gut. Strong well aimed blows. My sturdy gut is breaking down as he methodically work me over. Eventually, Ray lets up and I drop to all fours -- panting, drained, and clearly hurt. He walks around me laughing. "Let's have some fun now" he says as he kicks one arm out from under me. My front collapses and he wraps his legs around my throat squeezing. My exposed ass intrigues him and he launches into a hard spanking session. I cry out in pain as my behind get's spanked like never before. He stops for a second and ask "You give, fat boy?" -- silence. "YOU GIVE?" he asks again. "Never" I squeeze out. He's spanking me some more then rolls my beaten body on its back. I have a raging hard-on and precum is staining my pink pants. "HAHAHA, you loved that spanking session didn't you"? I don't respond. It's time to put an end to this. Ray pulls his trunks off, stands over me and drop his naked ass on my face. He smothers my nose and mouth with his butt cheeks, taking my breath away. He continues to sink deep blows into my now softened and defenseless gut. "YOU GIVE?" he says. All he hears is "mmmmppffff". He lifts his ass and asks again "YOU GIVE, old man". "No" I say weakly after a pause so he drops his ass down again and holds it down on my face. My air gets less and less. Ray's fists are destroying my once so legendary gut. Just before I am about to pass out he lifts up again. I soak in air hard. "YOU GIVE, fat pussy"? he asks again. I hesitate but when his ass is about to come down again I scream out "YES, I GIVE I GIVE, please make it stop". Ray's not happy. "YOU SAID WHAT?" he yells. "I GIVE" I yell louder. He's still not happy and lands another series of hard blows in my wide open gut. I squirm -- can't take any more. "YOU SAID WHAT?" he asks again. Then it dawns on me "I give, SIR!!!" I bellow out with all the strength I have left. That did the trick. "Do you from now on accept me as your one and only MASTER"? "Yes, SIR" I yell. "Do you promise to suck my cock whenever I want you to?" "Yes, SIR" I respond. "Do you admit that I am the BIG dog now in this park and that you have obey my ever wishes?" "YES, SIR". Ray is getting up and looks down at me laughing. "Look at you, what a weak fatty you are". He pulls my pink trunks high up on my belly so that my hardon is clearly visible and the writing is easy to read - "COCK SUCKER". He grabs his phone and take pictures. I can't believe what just happened. I got beat fair and square and turned into this man's cock sucking slave. Ray walks over to his duffle bag and I hear him rummage around. He comes back holding a collar in his hand. He lifts my head and puts it around my big neck -- it barely fits -- and I hear the lock close. I am getting pulled up to my knees by the collar. "You are my dog now and you will suck my cock now!" I stare at my masters cock and suddenly want nothing more than to get fed by him. I open wide and he pushes in deep. He reaches around with his strong arms and starts plowing me hard and fast. Just as a good master would do. I suck greedily. Even before he does, I blow a massive load in my pink trunks. He blows his load deep down my throat also and I swallow it all. "Lick that cum off cleanly, dog," he orders and I do so eagerly. Ray sees that I've blown my load without his permission. "Fuck that, fat dog" he yells. He pushes me over on my back with ease and pulls my stained trunks off. "You have to pay for cuming without permission" he says and pushes the trunks into my mouth. You better soak up that cum of yours good. You won't be able to wash them trunks before your next fight. As I am laying on the ground looking up to my new master, beaten and humiliated, tasting my own cum, I hear a car pull up The End..... or is it?!?! If you like what you read and want to read more emails us some Feedback [email protected] and [email protected] Please remember to donate to nifty, without your donations this site wouldn't be possible.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/ranger-dave/ranger-dave-1	Date: Wed, 7 Jun 2023 09:41:16 -0400 From: buddbuster Subject: Ranger Dave Series: Chapter 1 Confronting Big Ranger Dave Remember to donate to Nifty, without your donations this website wouldn't be possible! Description: Alaskan tourist Ray, avid outdoorsman and wrestling fan, gets in an argument with Big Dave, burly head ranger at an Alaska National Park. In a series of confrontations, the two men try to determine who is the alpha male. Chapter 1 describes the first confrontation between the two men, leading into a brawl near the rangers cabin. Protagonists: Ray : Avid Outdoorsman traveling Alaska; 55 years; 5'6" and 190lbs Ranger Dave : Park Ranger; 60 years; 5'10" ---------- PART I - written from Ray's perspective I am an alpha male that has always loved the outdoors and loves to stray from big groups. One my trips I have often encountered other alphas that were trying to get in my way. At 5'6'' and 190lbs many don't see me as a threat but I know my moves and I have never backed down from a challenge. This story is about a recent trip to Alaska and a serious alpha confrontation that I faced while there. I was in Alaska to see some of the National Parks. I was with a travel group and needed to get away from people. At one of the stops, I decided to wander away and go off the beaten path. I walked and walked and walked. After some time I came across a ranger station. As I walk up to the place the door opens and a big burly guy in a green ranger pants and light brown ranger shirt emerges. "What are you doing all the way out here?" he asked brusquely. "Are you another one of them dumb fuck tourists that lost his way?" I look him up and down. He is about 5'10" and must be around 290lbs. He has a big firm gut and wears his pants on his belly. A set of broad suspenders are holding the pants in place. They have stripes in different shades of brown with the words "Big Dave" printed on top of it. He has a big chest and big arms and looks like he knows how to handle himself in a confrontation. I notice that he has short stubby legs and a long torso, probably making him slower than other guys his size. He has a clean-shaven face that is probably quite handsome on a day when he is not quite that angry. Due to the print on his suspenders, I assume his name is Dave, so I squint at him and say, "Well, Ranger Dave, is this how you greet strangers around here? Are all Alaskans that rude or is it just you that's an asshole?" For a moment, he is speechless then he says, "get the fuck off my lands before I lose myself. Who the hell do you think you are, Short Round? Come on my lands and tell me what to do?" His face turn red in anger. Clearly, he is not used to being confronted, especially by a smaller man like me. Unfortunately for him, I am not one to back down either so I say "I'll leave whenever I want. If you don't like it why don't you put your money where your big mouth is and try to make me, fat boy?" I laugh. He is enraged even more and in his rage, he makes a mistake. He walks up to me and gives me a good angry shove. "What the hell, fat boy, nobody shoves me and lives to brag about it" I yell in an angry voice. "Do this again and I am going to kick your fat ass!" "That's it", he yells back, "you want to rassle? Come on, Short Round, say yes. I am going to enjoy twisting your small body and flatten you." He is gushing out of his mouth in anger. We have already decided that fists will fly and get ready for a confrontation. Ranger Dave pushes his suspenders off his shoulders and takes his shirt off revealing his ample gut, his big pecs and arms! He flexes and says "last chance to run, Short Round". I spit in front of his feet and pull off my parka and shirt myself. While I think of myself as strong and tough, In comparison to the big man I seem small. So Dave laughs at me and taunts me "oh, I will love working you over, shrimp!" "Shut up and fight fat boy" I respond and wave him toward me. We are ready to get physical. He rushes toward me but, as expected, he is slow. I avoid his fist and instead land a couple of jabs in his gut. "Ooooff", he grunts, but I don't think I did much damage. I try to land a fist to his chin but Dave catches it, pulls me toward him and puts me in a crushing bear hug. His massive pecs pressed against me while his arms squeeze hard and I gasped for air. He increases the pressure and is inflicting a lot of pain as he wraps his massive arms tightly around my back! "I'm gonna break your back, boy" he growls as he chuckles snidely. I have to think fast as the pain increases! I wrestle one of my arms free from his grip and reach down to grab his crotch. I squeeze hard causing big Dave to cry out in pain. "FUCK", he screams, as he has to release the hold. I drop to the ground, soaking in much needed air. "So, you like grabbing other men's crotches, boy??!!" "I will love teaching a cock sucker like you a good solid lesson!" He takes off his boots and his uniform pants revealing big white briefs! I am still on the ground recovering and he reaches down and strips me off my boots and jeans. At that point, I was down to my briefs that were showing a significant bulge already! "It seems the shrimpy cock sucker likes what he sees," big Dave taunts and laughs. He stands over me and poses. "I will kill you from grabbing my crotch" he growls! I am at big risk of being mauled by this big man and have to think fast. He pulls me up by my head and clenches his fist. As he pulls back to take a swing at me, I quickly send a hard elbow into his side. I lean in hard, hitting him as hard as I can. This catches him by surprise and the force of the blow throws him off balance. I use the moment of weakness to push him over and he falls to the ground. I act quickly, grab his massive legs and roll him on his back. I grab one of his legs and bend it sideways behind his other leg, then I fall backwards. He is secured in a vicious leg lock! He cries out in pain with his eyes wide open. Clearly, he had no idea I had wrestled before! He growls and moans as I twist his legs even more! "Get off of me, fucker" he cries out. I sense desperation and shock in his voice. He is struggling hard to get out of my hold. He slowly tries to crawl away and I start to lose my footing. In response, I released the leg lock and immediately put his head between my muscular legs! I squeezed his neck in a figure 4 headscissors! "How do you like that you fat pussy?" I asked laughing. As he struggles to get his head out of the hold, he finds himself facing my bulging briefs! I grab him by the back of his head and force him deep into my crotch. He is being smothered and deprived of air! "You like sniffing my cock, don't you? Who is the cock sucker now?" I ask tauntingly! I can't believe that I got this big fucker restrained. As my cock grows in his face, I can feel his fight weakening. Have my holds taken a lot out of him or does he just like this position, I wonder. "You give, fucker?" I ask and hope he says no. I love playing with my prey. He moans and mumbles in my crotch. "What? I can't understand you. You clearly have too much fun smelling my crotch". I let go of his head. "Fuck you," he moans. I send a couple of fists in his gut leaving him winded. Then I get up and put a foot on his chest. Posing over him I ask "you got enough yet, fat boy?" "Kiss my ass" he responds weakly. Good idea I think and drop down on him again. I put reverse headscissors on him and now have his face meet my cotton-covered ass! "Eat my ass you big fat pussy," I taunt as I smother him good. His nose in buried in between my ass cheeks, taking his breath away. Just as I start rubbing my ass back and forth on his face, I notice a raging hard-on in Ranger Dave's briefs. If you like what you read and want to read more emails us some Feedback [email protected] and [email protected] Please remember to donate to nifty, without your donations this site wouldn't be possible.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/ranger-dave/ranger-dave-5	Date: Sun, 12 Nov 2023 15:46:48 -0500 From: buddbuster Subject: Ranger Dave Chapter 5 Ranger Dave Series: Chapter 5 Remember to donate to Nifty, without your donations this website wouldn't be possible! Description: Its been a few months since rays triumph over Ranger Dave. Rays trip has ended and Ranger Dave now faces a beefy Colombian bear in a "winner takes loser" wrestling match. The two big bears go after each other hard in a three-round brawl, until one of them emerges on top. Round1 : "In for a Hairy Surprise" -------------------------------------------------- RANGER DAVE: -------------------------------------------------- With a satisfied groan, Walt climbs off from Ranger Dave's broad back. "Oh yes," he thinks to himself, "Owning the burly Ranger's delicious behind will never get old." Walt looks down at the big man beneath him. At 5'10" and 320lbs, Ranger Dave is a mountain of a man. His broad hairy back and his massive chest and arms are a remarkable sight. Yet despite the ranger's strength and size, it is Walt that is the alpha among them. "I can't believe this guy is all mine," Walt thinks as he zips up his pants. "You better don't forget about Father Oso at 3:30 today." "You know what I'll do to you if you miss another fight." Walt growls as he smacks the ranger on his naked ass and walks away. Dave remains draped over the picnic table for a little while longer. Located on the side of a little used hiking trail, this table has become a favorite spot for Walt to play. Dave reaches down to pull his underpants up over his ass and belly and rolls onto his back. He squints into the sunlight as he tries to remember how he, the proud head ranger of this Alaskan national park, has gotten into this situation. It has been a few months since Ranger Dave was surprisingly defeated by the 310lbs 6'00" Walt in a "winner owns looser" wrestling match. The big ranger was outmuscled and dominated, and was forced to submit to the better man. In the two weeks after, Walt bested Dave 4 more times, cementing his dominance and turning the mighty head ranger into his property. A couple of months of continued domination later, Walt began to look for something new to keep his fascination with Dave alive. It was an offer from an older tourist named James that gave Walt an idea: James had lost the interest and admiration of his wife Marla and offered Walt $200 if he could wrestle and beat big Dave in front of his woman. Walt was intrigued by the offer and accepted. Within two weeks, a match was arranged. The wrestling encounter was to take place in an open meadow in Dave's national park. James was interested in wrestling Dave in his ranger uniform, so Walt arranged a casual meeting of Dave with James and his wife in that spot. A verbal argument was staged that led to a more and more physical exchange, until the two men were attacking each other in a no-holds-barred brawl. After a short period of back-and-forth wrestling, James took more and more control of the bigger man, delivering an increasingly one-sided beat down. A growing group of casual hikers watched in amazement as the mighty ranger was humiliated by the smaller man. Once defeated, the ranger surrendered unconditionally, and was ordered to his knees to service the victorious James. Marla was beside herself with pride and the two walked off for a long night of sexual ecstasy. The word on Dave's surprising defeat spread fast and more men lined up to prove themselves against the mighty ranger. Many men paid extra to guarantee their victory over the big ranger. Walt made sure that these men got what they paid for. They were able to "outmuscle", beat, and pin the bigger man, sometimes even beating him in public. On the other extreme, some men paid to receive a one-sided beat down by the burly lawman. Many of these customers requested to be defeated in the big man's bearhug. Not all of the matches had pre-determined outcomes. Some challengers were brave enough to face the big man in real bouts. As expected, the mighty ranger won most of these fights. Outstanding wins included a 1-on-2 win over two young cocky bodybuilders who wanted to show the old fat man who is boss. The two gave Dave a mighty fight but ended up defeated and humiliated. Dave also celebrated a win against an older powerlifter from California, whose superior strength was not enough to overcome the burly lawman. Opposite to these wins stand some surprising defeats. Particularly humiliating was a defeat at the hands of a chubby leather bear from Anchorage. In a public match, the leather bear not only beat but also collared our mighty hero to prove himself the alpha. Walt loved his newfound wrestling business. As the word of the big wrester for hire spread, Walt made money hand over fist. In addition to all the financial gain, Walt just could not get enough of seeing the big ranger in the ring. It played into some of Walt's most secret sexual fantasies. -------------------------------------------------- FATHER OSO: -------------------------------------------------- Father Gustavo is a catholic priest in a small South American community. He is an older hairy Latino bear with a beefy to chubby build, broad shoulders, big chest, and prominent gut. His hairy arms and chest and his thick gray mustache earned him the nickname "Father Oso" among his local community. At 62, 5'8" and 275lbs, his big frame nearly equals that of our mighty ranger. Secretly gay, Father Gustavo has always been attracted to other burly and masculine men. Especially the idea of wrestling with other big bears and chubs has been one of his particular desires. At age 48, he finally gave in to this side of his personality, and he started to participate in private wrestling parties. After an initial series of defeats, he met an experienced Colombian wrestler who slowly trained Father Oso until he became the formidable fighter he is today. It was two months ago that Father Oso first heard of the mighty Ranger in the far away North. He saw pictures of Dave's impressive physique and decided to travel to Alaska to issue a challenge to the big American. He intensified his training and by the time he arrived in Alaska, he was ready and determined to make this big Alaskan man his own. He paid the fee for an unbiased fight with the hope to take the burly ranger down. -------------------------------------------------- ARRANGING A WRESTLING MATCH: -------------------------------------------------- From the moment Walt laid his eyes on Father Oso, he knew that this would be an epic fight. Like Ranger Dave, Oso is a big strong beefy man with lots of wrestling experience. Both are real men with all the testosterone and sex appeal that goes with it. Therefore, he decided to advertise the event broadly with the goal to attract a large crowd of betting men and a large potential for financial profit. A sizeable crowd had already gathered as Father Oso and Dave arrived at the scene. Walt is standing in the ring, dressed in his referee uniform. He is animating the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to today's "winner takes loser" wrestling fight. The winner will be determined by pin fall. The match will be fought in three-rounds and two falls need to be earned for the win. Both opponents are big beefy men with lots of wrestling matches under their extensive belts." "Let me introduce to you in the right corner the challenger: At 5'8" and 275 beefy pounds, please give it up to Father Oso, wrestling champion from South America. He is the undisputed champion of his region with a 2019 fighting record of 8-0." With raised arms, Father Oso walks toward the ring. Dressed in black dress pants, black clerical shirt and white clerical collar he struts through the crowd. His clothes fits tight, revealing his massive body and impressive arms. Once in the ring, he poses for the crowd and tears open his shirt. The crowd goes nuts at the sight of his burly body, covered in a thick forest of salt and pepper hair. Father Oso's pants come off, revealing black vintage trunks and black wrestling boots. He flexes, showing of his bearish bulky frame. "In the left corner, please welcome your local champion. At 5'10" and 320 pounds, Ranger Dave is a mountain of ferocious meat! He is the local hero in the park with a 2019 fighting record of 9-2." Dave raises his fists and stretches out his belly as he is wading through the crowd. He is dressed in his a-bit-too-tight ranger uniform and is wearing his trademark bear pride suspenders. Once in the ring, Dave takes off his shirt and uniform revealing green vintage trunks worn on his massive belly. The bear pride suspenders clipped to his trunks and brown wrestling boots complete the outfit. "Ladies and Gentlemen, please place your bets while our contenders warm up for the fight". Despite Ranger Dave's bigger size, the more compact hairy physique of the cleric and his undefeated wrestling record has Father Oso as a narrow favorite, with more of the audience putting bets on him as the victor. -------------------------------------------------- ROUND-1: -------------------------------------------------- "And fight," referee Walt barks to mark the beginning of the event. The crowd goes wild as the two contenders approach each other. Dave tries to tie Father Oso up in a bearhug, but Oso grabs a hold of Dave's right arm and wrestles it to his back. With a hammerlock applied, Oso's arm goes around Dave's neck, bending the bigger man backward as his arm gets pushed up. Dave groans in pain and frustration. Dave tenses up his considerable muscles and starts to break free, so Oso pushes Dave forward and drives his face into the turnbuckle. "OOOOFFFF". Oso turns the stunned Ranger around and pushes him into the corner. He drives his shoulder into Dave's gut -- once ... twice ... three times. Dave bends over so Oso puts his arm around Dave's neck, takes two steps back and DDTs the big ranger's head full force into the canvas. Father Oso is getting off to a lightning-fast start. He skillfully animates the crowd. With the swollen chest of a champion, he walks around the ring, firing up his fans. After this brief celebration, Oso's quickly directs his attention back at Dave. He rolls the big ranger on his back and covers him for the pin. Walt goes down for the count: "ONE ... TWO ..." - Dave manages to kick out just in time. The now angry big Ranger rolls away and tries to get back to his feet, but Father Oso is faster. He pulls Ranger Dave into a sitting position and applies a Surfboard hold. Oso's knee grinds into Dave's back while he pulls hard on the ranger's massive arms. The fans see the agony in Dave's face as Oso continues his domination. Oso switches to a chinlock hold before throwing Dave on his back and applying a couple of body splashes. After the second splash, he hooks Dave's leg and covers the bigger man for another pin. Walt is quickly down for the count: "ONE ..., TWO ...." The big ranger kicks out one more time. Oso gets up and fires up the crowd. He flexes his muscles and puts his big foot onto Dave's chest. Cheered on by the audience, he lifts Dave's legs and spreads them apart. Ignoring the vicious protests of a panicking ranger, he raises his heel and sinks it hard into Dave's unprotected crotch. "OOOFFFFF ..." that hurt. Dave is in a great deal of pain. He rolls away from Father Oso in an attempt to protect himself. He knows he has been manhandled so far and needs to recover fast. He grabs hold of the ropes and pulls himself to his feet, but as he turns around, Oso is already there and hammers him into the ropes with a clothesline. Dave is almost thrown out of the ring and can barely hang on. Oso takes advantage of Dave's wide-open gut and quickly sinks a couple of fists deep into his lower abdomen. "AARRG". He gets Dave to buckle. He flexes for the crowd that is now fully on Father Oso's side. He lifts the Ranger's chin and stares in his eyes. "You call yourself an hombre, gordito? You fight like una mujer!" With that, he wraps his arms around the big ranger's girthy midsection and squeezes him in a vicious bearhug. Dave is trapped against the sweaty furry body of the South American preacher. Oso's fists dig into the ranger's spine as his hairy body rubs against Dave's sensitive nipples. Oso hears Dave moan more in pleasure than in pain. After a bit more squeezing and rubbing, he notices a rapidly growing hard-on in Dave's trunks. Oso puts his mouth next to Dave's ear and whispers with hot breath, "Gordito, it seems you enjoy feeling the power of a real Hombre." "Fuck you" Dave responds in frustration. Oso increases the pressure and Dave nearly reaches his breaking point. The big ranger needs to move fast if he wants to avoid quick defeat. He manages to get his arm between him and Oso and pushes as hard as he can to break Oso's hold. Both men struggle until Father Oso has to let go. Dave drives the burly cleric back with a few punches to the gut and pecs and then whips Oso into the ropes. The preacher bounces back and is greeted with a massive clothesline that sends him to the canvas. Dave tries to follow up with a body splash but Oso manages to roll away just in time. Both men get back to their feet. They glare at each other from the distance. Drenched in sweat, their chests are heaving as they suck in much needed air. The two bulls study each other, trying to anticipate the other man's move. Suddenly, they rush toward each other and lock up in a test of strength. With both hands locked up, each is trying to force the other to his knees. With their arms stretched out wide, they struggle belly to belly, chest to chest, and pec to pec. Rivers of sweat are running down between them as they struggle for dominance. After a long while of grunting and groaning, Father Oso manages to moves their arms over their heads. He doubles down his efforts as he senses weakness in his opponent. "Damn ... NOOOO ..." Dave exclaims as Oso is slowly but inevitably beginning to gain the upper hand. Inevitably, the big ranger is pushed downward, until his right knee hits the canvas. The crowd celebrates as their new hero continues to break down the ranger. A knee to Dave's gut ends this test of strength with Oso as the winner. Ranger Dave bends over from the kick to his abdomen. His face is pulled tightly into Oso's hairy chest. The preacher wraps his arms around the ranger's head, trapping his face between mountains of furry pecs. Dave is struggling for air. His arms are flailing about as he desperately tries to break free. To a wave of cheers, Oso acts out this scene for the audience until another kick to the ranger's gut sends the big lawman down to all fours. To entertain the crowd and humiliate the ranger further, Oso sits on Dave's back as if riding him backwards. He first rubs then spanks the big ranger's exposed ass. Then he reaches between Dave's legs for a vicious cock grab. The ranger yelps, and grunts, and swears. A desperate Dave is trying to get away but Oso now has the upper hand. He traps Dave's head in between his legs as he is signaling an upcoming piledriver. The crowd cheers as the heavyset man is lifted until his body is inverted in Father Oso's hold. Then Oso drops into a kneeling position, driving Ranger Dave head-first into the mat. ... Dave drops to his back like an empty sack of potatoes. With the world around him turning into a blur, he lays motionless with his arms and legs spread out wide. His sweat drenched trunks reveal a raging hard-on as Father Oso puts his boot on the Ranger's chest and Walt begins the count: "ONE ... TWO ... TH ...". Oso lifts his foot to stop the count. He wants to enjoy this more. Oso struts across the ring getting the crowd all fired up. They watch Dave trying to get off the canvas ... and fail. They know who is the heel in this match and it is not their ranger. Playing with the crowd, Father Oso walks over to the fallen lawman until he stands over him with his back facing Dave's head. He bends over and wiggles his ass, signaling what is to come. To excited hooting and hollering, Oso pulls down his trunks, spanks his hairy cheeks a couple of times, and then drops his naked hairy ass on the ranger's face. A frenetic audience is chanting "Oso!! Oso!! Oso!!" as their big-bellied lawman is trapped in the humiliating pin. Walt pauses for a while. He likes Oso to enjoy this moment as long as possible. Eventually he goes down to the canvas to start the count: "ONE, ..." the crowd cheers, "TWO, ..." a desperate Dave starts struggling mightily, "... THREE!!!!!!!" Oso has dominated and won the first round of this match in humiliating fashion. But, he is not quite done yet. To the excitement of his fans, he remains in position, and starts rubbing his ass over Ranger Dave's trapped face. "Oh yes, gordito, lick mi culo. Lick that hairy ass." he taunts. Dave is trapped and has to let it happen. In fact, the sight and the feeling of the strong preacher's hairy ass is getting to the big lawman. He is fighting his sexual arousal, but as Oso also grabs a hold of his sensitive nipples, he cannot stop himself any longer. An audible moan escapes his mouth. "Oh yes, mi gordo sumiso maricón, I got you now" Oso groans. He lets go of Dave's right nipple and slips his paw into Ranger Dave's trunks. The feeling of the preacher's rough hands around his cock is instantly overwhelming. Dave's moans are now audible to the whole audience. His back arches up as he starts thrusting himself toward the preacher's fist. The men in the audience are beside themselves. Eventually, Walt steps in and pulls the two protagonists apart. "Enough for now. We still have two more rounds to go". ROUND 1: FATHER OSO WINS! FOR NOW....... If you like what you read and want to read more emails us some Feedback [email protected] and [email protected] Please remember to donate to nifty, without your donations this site wouldn't be possible.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/brotherly-games/brotherly-games-4.html	Brotherly Games Chapter 4 Hey there! Please do not forget to make a donation to Nifty for the amazing platform they provide for both readers and writers. Thank you to all those who supported me throughout the writing of this serie. Brotherly Games is about to have a sequel called "Louis�; To know more about it, find us on https://habsbourg-publications.com/ If you wish to contact me, you may do so by E-mail: [email protected] Or follow me on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/habsbourg.publications/ I would also like to thank Max Potter for taking his time collaborating with me on this book. You can read his stories on: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#maxpotter You can already get the full book here: https://www.mybestseller.co.uk/site/userwebsite/index/id/v.dehabsbourg The book exists in E-book and Printed version, go and get it! Chapitre 4 "Don't you think it's a little over the top?" I asked Jean-Baptiste hesitantly. "No, honestly it looks good on you!" He confirmed, probably tired that I kept changing my mind about what I was going to wear. I still didn't want to go to Vianney's stupid party. But since I was going anyway, I wanted to make a good impression. "Yeah, I guess you're right." I sighed unenthusiastically. "Let's go downstairs already, Tim is going to arrive soon." I suggested. Jean-Baptiste nodded and followed me in the living room. "What's up dudes?" George casually greeted us when we walked downstairs. "Fuck, Baby Henri, you look good!" My brother sneered with a mocking chuckle. Oh god, I knew this was over the top, I wanted to run back upstairs and change to a more casual outfit, but it was too late. Jean-Baptiste would literally kill me otherwise. "No one told you we were going to a party? Why are you still wearing your pyjamas?" Jean-Baptiste shot back immediately. I gave my best friend a sidelong glance that meant `don't you start!' but I could tell he didn't give a shit. If I wasn't going to defend myself then he would no matter what. "Oh no, Henri! Your girlfriend doesn't approve of my style!" My brother lamented with a fake sad tone. Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Saved by the bell, quite literally, before the 3rd World War started in the living room. "I'll get it!" I announced quickly before rushing to the main door. "Hi Henri!" Julie enthusiastically exclaimed. I stayed dumbfounded for a few seconds before regaining my composure. "Oh, hey Julie. Uh... I didn't know you were coming with us." I clumsily declared. "Can I come in?" She chuckled. Of course not, bitch, go back home at once! "Sure!" I answered with the fakest smile ever. "Hey Babe!" My brother exclaimed when he saw her. `Babe'? I know where the kitchen knives are stored, George, don't push me. Jean-Baptiste must have caught my murderous expression because he shot me a confused stare. "Are you okay?" He asked with a concerned tone. "What is this bimbo even doing here?" I fumed in a barely audible voice only JB could hear. "Oh god, I swear this house is a reality show. What other drama did I miss?" He asked me with a laugh. "Whatever." I simply answered irritated. "Isn't Nad�ge coming too?" I inquired. Jean-Baptiste rarely went anywhere without his girlfriend. "Uh... No, I'm not sure she is coming tonight anyway." JB brushed quickly. "Everything's fine between the two of you?" I inquired worriedly. He gave me a sorry look that you give someone before announcing bad news, but before he could open his mouth the doorbell rang again. "That must be Timoth�e." I declared before getting up and going to the door. Surely enough, my tall rugby man boyfriend was waiting for me in front of the house. I stood on tip toes and gave him a long kiss. "You two get a room!" George teased as he joined us in front of the house with Julie and Jean-Baptiste. "Come on, let's go! The Uber driver is already here!" My brother insisted. After some back and forth negotiation between George and the Uber driver, including the promise of a generous tip, the driver agreed to take all five of us in his car. I had to sit on Tim's lap during the ride, but I didn't mind that much. I was still rather mad at my brother for inviting the bitch, oops, I meant our lovely classmate Julie, but I didn't want to make a fuss. We were going to have plenty of fun and spend a completely drama-free evening together. Fingers crossed! My parents were pretty wealthy, but that was really nothing compared to Vianneys'. His dad owned half of the most famous brand of Southwestern France's supermarkets; he was crazy rich. The little brat lived in a large villa built on Pech David's hill flank, in the southern part of Toulouse. When the Uber driver dropped us in front of the house, Timoth�e rang at the house gate, and we waited. "Yeah?" Vianney's voice answered. "It's me." Tim announced, just before the gate opened. The five of us walked to the house and I was actually getting nervous. As much as I hated Vianney for what he did, he was my boyfriend's best friend, and a good friend of my brother too. I couldn't really afford to snub him. Tim didn't bother knocking and directly opened the main door before walking inside. I followed him and kept shooting glances around the large and luxurious mansion. It was a real modern palace. If I had a house like that, I would certainly be nervous to throw a party. Hell, I was nervous enough about throwing a party in my house as it is. "Here they are, my boys!" Vianney exclaimed joyfully. "Uh... and you too Janny!" He added. "Julie." She corrected him, vexed. I must confess I inwardly chuckled, maybe I should call her `Janny' too. "Henri! I'm so glad to see you!" Vianney told me with a wide smile. Oh, so he recognised me even without the cum plastered on my face? Whatever, moron. "Thanks for inviting me." I politely answered with a fake smile. Timoth�e poured us some drinks and the guests kept arriving. Almost all my classmates were there, along with a great deal of many other people from high school. I decided to be wiser tonight, and carefully watch my alcohol consumption. Timoth�e, on the other hand, didn't. He kept swallowing drinks after drinks, and soon enough he was really tipsy. Tim was in the mood to dance. The boy was unstoppable, I wondered where he got all that energy from. I was having a hard time following him, but he wasn't taking no for an answer, he was getting quite tactile, and I felt his hands on my butt as we danced. I shot a nervous glance around me, but no one was really paying attention. No one but George. As my boyfriend caressed me sensually, my brother gave me a death stare and I knew he wasn't amused. George walked away and disappeared. I resumed dancing with Tim, but I couldn't keep my brother out of my mind. At some point though, I badly needed to drink. I broke the embrace with Tim and told him I was going to get some water in the kitchen. After I poured myself a glass, I wondered where Jean-Baptiste had disappeared. His girlfriend wasn't here tonight after all, so maybe I should stop being a total douchebag and spend some time with him, I thought. I searched for him in the house, but he was nowhere to be found. I went outdoors, looked for him around the swimming-pool and almost gave up when, suddenly, I caught the sight of George and Julie making out by the pool. They were indecently French-kissing, my brother's hands firmly gripped on her ass. I stayed dumbfounded for a few seconds when George finally noticed me. He broke the kiss and gave me a shit eating smirk. I quickly turned and walked back inside. Fucking whore, I hated her, I don't know why, but I hated Julie, I wanted nothing else than slapping her stupid face again and again. "Where the fuck have you been!" I shouted at Jean-Baptiste as I bumped into him into the house. "I was... uh... I was just there talking and uh... what's wrong?" J-B stuttered, completely puzzled by my sudden aggressiveness. "I've been looking for you! I was worried!" I angrily answered. "Whatever!" I added before passing by him and walking back to the living room. There, I spotted Tim dancing still and hurriedly joined him. I grabbed his face in my hands and kissed him deeply. My tongue entering his open mouth and my arms squeezing him tightly. At this point I didn't give a fuck at all about what other people might think. I could have fucked Tim right and there. Anger was exhilarating me, I kept caressing my boyfriend's body as I passionately kissed and bit his lips. Timoth�e wasn't bothered by my bold behaviour in the slightest, and he was too trashed to really wonder why I was suddenly so passionate. As I kissed my boyfriend my mind was elsewhere, there was conflict in my mind. I was both trying to understand why I felt the way I felt about George and trying to push these thoughts away. I was confused, angry, tipsy, and definitely unable to think clearly. "What's up baby?" Timoth�e stuttered. He was shitfaced, Vianney was next to us and he seemed in a better condition though. "Nothing, I'm fine." I lied before snuggling against him. He oozed alcohol from his pores, and smelled like vodka. I liked his natural manly scent better to be honnest. I kissed his jawline and wrapped my arms around him, trying to empty my mind and focus on the present moment. "Babe I'm so horny, I want to fuck you!" Tim whispered loud enough for Vianney to hear. Our eyes met and Vianney looked embarrassed. I took my boyfriend's face in my hands and started making out with him. He rolled his tongue around mine and his big hands browsed my butt. "I need to use the bathroom." I stated after breaking the kiss. Tim dropped a last peck on my lips, and I walked away from the dancefloor, gently pushing my way through the thick crowd. The bathroom downstairs was busy, so I rushed upstairs, my bladder about to explode, and pushed the first bathroom door I bumped into on top of the stairs. When I walked in, my eyes widened, and my heart skipped a beat. Julie was on her knees, her lips wrapped around my brother's rock-hard cock. George's hands were pressed on the back of her head and from his slightly agape mouth escaped a loud moan. When she noticed my presence, Julie backed off from my brother's dick and I was able to catch a glimpse of its full length. I stared at my brother's cock for several long seconds and felt a rush of adrenaline jolting through my whole body. George's eyes met mine and he displayed a shit eating smirk. "What's up Baby Henri?" He asked provocatively. "Do you think we can have some privacy?" He then added. "Fuck off, you jerk!" I snapped before storming out of the bathroom and slamming the door behind me. I felt rage boiling inside of me, against my brother of course, but mainly against myself. I was his fucking brother, why was I feeling this way, what did I do to deserve being such a freak. I wanted to punch the wall until the pain from my fist could distract me from the burning fire inside of me. I was so confused, so disoriented. I felt overwhelmed, and I started crying. I rushed downstairs and I knew I needed to leave this house, I was not in my right mind, and I was in no way able to socialise. Tears began pouring down my cheeks and I breathed erratically, holding my sides with my hands and trying to calm down. "Hey, Henri!" Jean-Baptiste called me as I passed by him on my way to the house gate. "What's wrong?" He worriedly asked when he realised that I was crying. "Nothing, I'm just tired." I brushed off while sobbing. Jean-Baptiste kept looking at me expectantly and although I tried to walk away, he grabbed my shoulder and I realised he wouldn't let me go in that state. "It's just that I saw my brother with his girlfriend and... I don't know... it pissed me off." I said while trying to make sense. "Why?" My best friend asked with a confused frown. "I DON'T KNOW J-B!" I shouted with a wavy voice. "I don't know why I feel the way I feel about my brother." I added in a softer voice as my vision was blurred with tears. "Hey, look at me Henri." Jean-Baptiste called with his hands still on my shoulders. "It's okay." He said with a tender tone. "No, J-B, you don't understand..." I said as I calmed down a little. "I think I do." Jean-Baptiste told me while looking me in the eye. I looked back at him with a mixt of panic and confusion and he shot me a tender smile. "It's okay Henri." He repeated. "We'll talk about it later, okay? Now let's go home, you're sleeping at mine tonight." He declared while putting his hand on my back and gesturing me to leave the house. My best friend and I hopped into an Uber and I texted Tim that I was sick and going back home. Honestly, I felt drained of all energy, as if my meltdown had used every single fibre of my body and I was now just an empty shell. You can already get the full book here: https://www.mybestseller.co.uk/site/userwebsite/index/id/v.dehabsbourg The book exists in E-book and Printed version, go and get it! For any question, please reach out to me on this e-mail: [email protected] And follow us on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/habsbourg.publications/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/brotherly-games/brotherly-games-5.html	Brotherly Games Chapter 5 Hey there! Please do not forget to make a donation to Nifty for the amazing platform they provide for both readers and writers. Thank you to all those who supported me throughout the writing of this serie. Brotherly Games is about to have a sequel called "Louis�; To know more about it, find us on https://habsbourg-publications.com/ If you wish to contact me, you may do so by E-mail: [email protected] Or follow me on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/habsbourg.publications/ I would also like to thank Max Potter for taking his time collaborating with me on this book. You can read his stories on: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#maxpotter You can already get the full book here: https://www.mybestseller.co.uk/site/userwebsite/index/id/v.dehabsbourg The book exists in E-book and Printed version, go and get it! Chapitre 4 It was fucking freezing outside. It was Thursday afternoon, and we were the 1st of November. I was on my way to the pharmacy because we ran out of dolipranes and I had a terrible headache, but because we were the 1st of November (Public Holiday) I had to go to one of the few opened and it wasn't the nearest to say the least! "That will be 2,18� please." The pharmacist announced to me while handing me the paper bag. "Have a good day, Sir" She told me after I paid. On the way back to the house I called Jean-Baptiste to thank him for taking care of me after the party, we didn't talk at all on our way to his place, and went straight to bed, he was still sleeping when I left his place about one hour ago. I didn't feel like talking about my brother, even though I knew we eventually would have to. We chatted a bit and I finally asked him about Nad�ge. He told me he would meet his girlfriend today and that they would probably break up, so I suggested he come at my place right after to hang out and get his mind busy on something else. After coming back home I tossed the pharmacy bag on the kitchen bar and started thinking about cooking. It was only 3.30pm but I was starving. I knew what I needed, a good comforting hangover meal. Deal! I grabbed my headphones and played some loud music as I prepared two onions to chop. As I was chopping onions, what was bound to happen happened, I started tearing up. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my stomach and literally jumped from surprise. "I don't like when you cry, Baby Henri!" George sneered as he hugged me from behind. Fuck, I nearly avoided a heart attack, and I had a knife for goodness' sake! Reckless brat. I was still deeply confused about my feelings, not that they were new, but mentioning them with J-B suddenly made them real, there was no plausible deniability left for me. "Really?" I asked, rhetorically. "I'm pretty sure I remember you finding it hilarious whenever I cried when we were kids. That's mostly why I stopped." I pointed out, probably sounding a little bitter about it. "Yes, I am a monster! Bad George!" My brother declared with a fake sad voice. I rolled my eyes and sighed. He was such an asshole. "What are you preparing?" He inquired while his hands were slipping under my sweatshirt to browse my bare skin abs. "Uh... Goat cheese bolognese lasagnes." I murmured, slowly losing control, as every time my brother touched me and whispered in my ears. "Fuck, you're a keeper Henri!" He declared with a chuckle as I smiled like an idiot. "I'll have a shower upstairs, I fucking stink!" He then exclaimed before breaking up the embrace and walking out of the kitchen. I gulped painfully and closed my eyes for a second. I had to resist him, he was just toying with me, from his own confession he sought to "break my heart in little pieces". He was manipulative, and he hated my fucking guts since as long as I could remember. I had to protect myself, I had to draw a goddamn red line somewhere! I finished cooking and baked the lasagnes in the oven. I poured myself a glass of water and took it to the living room. George just finished showering and he was turning his PS4 on, wearing nothing but a towel. "Uh... it will be ready in 45 minutes." I announced shyly as I sat by his side, avoiding looking at him. "Where is this from?" I then inquired, pointing at the wine bottle on the coffee table. "Well, you cooked a nice dinner, so I thought about pairing it with a nice bottle of wine." He smirked mischievously. "Is it... from dad's wine cave?" I asked, already having strong suspicion about the answer he would give me. "He won't notice, he's got plenty." My brother shrugged nonchalantly. I sighed and grabbed the bottle before standing up, wanting to bring it back where it belonged while I still could. "You'll get us both grounded." I exclaimed as George stood up and snatched the bottle from my hands. "That would be a first for you, wouldn't it Baby Henri? Being grounded for something I did!" My brother retorted bitterly. "Not that the other way around didn't happen a shit ton of time of course!" He pointed out irritably. "George!" I lamented. "You know what? I always hated that about you!" He said, losing patience. "You're never doing what you want! You're always trying to please mom and dad, or your stupid boyfriend, or me for that matter. Grow some fucking balls Henri and make a choice of your own for once!" He snapped. Wow, that really hurts. Everything he said was true, but I was not ready to hear it. "Why are you so fucking mean to me!?" I exclaimed angrily. "I'm not mean, I'm merely stating the truth!" He retorted with an irritated tone. I quickly stood up from the couch and gave him a death stare. "You're always doing your best to make my life miserable, as if it were my fault mom and dad never loved you!" I shouted back. George's face changed, he wasn't angry anymore, he was deeply shocked. I was dumbfounded by what I just said, as if these words left someone else's mouth. George shook his head and snorted in disbelief before walking out of the living room without saying a word. I was dazed, I wanted to run after him, to apologise. Yet I couldn't come to a reasonable explanation as to why I said what I said. My brother was one of those I loved the most in this whole fucked up world, one of the few people that never gave him shit for any reason. I wanted to be his safe space, his all-time ally against all odds. And yet here we are My phone suddenly rang, getting me out of my stunned state. It was Jean-Baptiste, he had just broken up with his girlfriend and was heading to my place at the moment. I was on autopilot, I just wanted to sleep through it all. My best friend arrived shortly after his phone call and I mechanically walked to the door to open. "Hey you." He greeted me with a low voice. I gave him a hug and displayed a sorry expression. "I'm so sorry!" I lied. I mean, I wasn't really lying, of course I was sad for him; he was my best friend and I loved him. But really, I was mostly sorry about myself right now. Jean-Baptiste must have been really taken aback, especially since I rarely display my emotions publicly. "Bloody hell, you look even more sad than I am!" Jean-Baptiste pointed out with a faint smile. I chuckled and forced a smile of my own. "I made some lasagnes." I announced. "Oh man, you're really the best!" My best friend exclaimed before I eventually broke the embrace. I was a mess really. But I needed that hug, probably more than J-B did. We ate the lasagnes while Jean-Baptiste told me everything I needed to know about his breakup with Nad�ge. As any good friend would do, I sporadically concurred that she was a fucking bitch, even though she really wasn't, and otherwise just listened and nodded to whatever he was saying. Gosh, these lasagnes were something else! "So, where's your brother?" Jean-Baptiste eventually asked with a mocking smile after he finished eating. "In his room." I answered with a low sad voice. "What's wrong?" J-B immediately asked. Fuck, he was psychic or what? "Nothing, it's just... well we argued and I kind of feel like shit now." I truthfully confessed. "What did he do this time?" My best friend asked with a sigh. "Nothing really, we were arguing about something silly, and I told him really nasty shit." I painfully admitted, staring at my empty plate. "Really? What did you tell him?" He inquired. "Probably not anything terrible knowing you." He chuckled. "I told him it wasn't my fault our parents didn't love him." I explained, looking at Jean-Baptiste dead in the eye with a serious tone. He gasped and looked back at me dumbfounded, scrutinizing me and probably expecting me to announce I was just kidding. "You're really not helping right now." I commented on his overly expressive reaction with a defeated tone. "Uh... I'm sorry, it's just that..." Jean-Baptiste stuttered. "It's so savage. And nothing like you actually!" "I'm a piece of shit." I declared fatefully. J-B rolled his eyes and chuckled. "You are a fucking drama queen that's what you are!" He corrected with a smile. "Siblings fight all the time. "I know, but I don't want to be caught in that vicious circle where my brother and I would shout hurtful things at each other every time we feel upset." I explained. "I know I snapped at him because of how confused I am, and that's just unfair." "Don't be too harsh on yourself, Henri." My best friend said softly. "He knows you care, that's so obvious to anyone that would see you two together. I'm sure he will get over it." "Yeah, you're probably right." I confessed pensively with a sigh. "I just don't know what to say. I know he resents me because of how harsh our parents are to him, and I just want him to realise that I don't see him the way they do." "Just say that then, it seems like a good enough apology to me." Jean-Baptiste replied. "Henri, I know you idolise your brother, but by doing that you're putting a lot of pressure on his shoulders." He added. "Just let him know you will be here for him, that's he's not just a symbol to you, but a someone you genuinely care for no matter what." He concluded. I looked at him and realised he was right, as always. "Thank you, J-B!" I said with a timid smile. "You're always so helpful, I wonder how you do it." I chuckled truthfully. "Well, I'm just trying to see things from both your perspectives." He smiled. "I really should go, though; my parents are waiting for me." My best friend announced as I raised my eyebrows. "So soon? Are you sure you don't want to stay here?" I asked with a hopeful expression. "I'm so sorry, you came here to talk about your breakup, and we ended talking about my fucked-up life." I apologised. "Hey, Henri, I'm glad I know what the fuck is happening to you because I was actually getting worried." He told me with a faint smile. Jean-Baptiste stood up and gathered his stuff before putting back his coat. I walked him to the door, and he pulled me for a hug. "We will need to talk about what happened yesterday, don't think I forgot, I wasn't as shitfaced as you were!" He told me with a faint smile as I nervously nodded. Mechanically, I went upstairs. I walked to George's bedroom door and stayed there for a moment. I tried to gather my courage, to find the right words to apologise, but I couldn't. Talking with my best friend somehow cleared up my mind and made me realise that I blamed George for seducing me. I blamed him for taking me down a path I was dying to take anyway, how fucking stupid was that, and how fucking hypocritical too. I was still very much lost when it came to what I was willing to do with George. I was about to knock but decided otherwise. I sighed and defeatedly went to my bedroom instead. I had some homework to do and the sooner I was done with it the better. When I left my bedroom, it was already 8pm. Downstairs, I heard the television was on in the living room and I gulped, dreading to face my brother. I was getting hungry, so I went straight to the kitchen. I turned on the oven and heated the lasagnes while preparing some lettuce and vinaigrette. When everything was ready, I dressed up the plates for my brother and I and took it to the living room on a tray. I put the tray on the coffee table and sat next to George. He shot a sidelong glance at me and sighed with annoyance. The silence treatment was killing me, to be honest, but I sensed it would go better if I kept my mouth shut. My brother probably didn't want to hear my annoying voice right now, I thought. George ate a bite of lasagnes and almost instantly moaned. Well, I'm a keeper, he said so earlier after all! I watched him devour and shyly smiled at him. He was so bloody handsome! George grabbed the television remote and browsed through Netflix for a few minutes before starting a horror movie. I was always shit scared watching horror movies, George knew it, without saying a single word he was trying to get me to leave. My brother wasn't an idiot, he actually was a pretty clever guy. However, throughout our lives, he consistently underestimated how far I was willing to go for him to fucking love me back! I braced myself for a few sleepless nights and apprehendingly started watching the movie along with my brother. I quickly finished eating my lasagnes, before the movie took away my appetite. The scary scenes eventually came, and I was terrorised, to say the least. Sporadically, I would loudly gasp, or a high pitch scream would escape my mouth. Yeah, that must have been annoying, but I truly couldn't help it. George, though, was having a great time. Each of my dramatic reactions was followed by a mocking chuckle from him. At least his mood brightened up a little, I guess. One could have wondered which one was more entertaining to watch for my brother, between the movie and me. After a particularly shocking scene, I stood up and was about to go back upstairs to my bedroom, but George grabbed my wrist and stopped me. "Come on, it's almost finished." My brother encouraged me with a mocking tone. I hesitated, I didn't want to leave, especially since George explicitly asked me to stay, but deep down I was a real fucking chicken. He pulled gently on my wrist to encourage me to sit back on the couch and I obliged. He then raised his right arm and gestured to me to snuggle against him. I boyishly smiled at him and rested my head on his shoulder. My warm body was pressed against his, he rested his right hand on my stomach, and I could hear his heartbeat in my left ear. I couldn't help but think of everything that changed when it came to my brother, especially in the lights of the conversation I had with Jean-Baptiste. As my head was nested against my brother's chest, I felt it again, this overwhelming feeling of guilt that came with the thoughts that kept popping up in my head. I could hear my brother's heartbeat and was torn between wanting to leave and wanting to stay. I had wanted to share this kind of proximity with my brother since I was a boy, and now that I had it, I realised that it came with a price. It wasn't my brother's fault though, it was mine, and I needed to stop putting the blame on him. As the movie progressed, I was lost in my thoughts and started to doze off, lulled by my brother's heartbeat echoing in my ear. When I woke up, my head was resting on my brother's lap and I was curled up against him. George had his left hand in my hair, gently caressing them, and his right hand under my t-shirt laying on my stomach. The movie was over, and George was watching sport on television. I was in a trance, I felt so secure, so safe. After a few minutes, my brother noticed that I was awaked and turned off the television. He gently pushed me aside and got up. "Wait!" I exclaimed with a hoarse voice. He raised his eyebrows and looked back at me quizzically. "George I... uh... I am really sorry about what I told you earlier." I apologised shyly. My brother was staring at me with a stern face, scrutinising me. "I was angry, and confused, and I took it on you when I really shouldn't have." "Yeah." My brother concurred, his gaze still fixed on mine. "I hope you know that regardless of what Mom and Dad think, I will always be on your side George." I said with a soft but resolute voice. "I know you think we have nothing in common, but I don't believe that's true, and I hope you'll realise that there is nothing you cannot share with me." "I'm not the one who said we have nothing in common." George replied with a serious tone. "That's the parent's motto, not mine. You're the perfect little angel, excelling in whatever you do, always kind and polite, and I'm the dumb one that cannot spend one day without fucking up and ending up in trouble." "Well, I don't think that's what you are George." I stated with a timid smile. George stepped closer to me and brought our faces closer. "Of course not, and you're not as angelic as you seem, and I know that." My brother said. "I've seen your lips wrapped around your boyfriend's dick; I know you're far from the perfect cute little boy they see in you." He added, making my face flush in shame as I gulped painfully. "The difference between me and them is that I don't need to think you're perfect to care about you." My brother concluded. Before I could even realise the full extent of what he said, he kissed my forehead and walked out, heading upstairs to his bedroom. He cares about me, I though with a wide smile. When I woke up the next day, Friday 2nd of November, rain was heavily pouring over Toulouse. I actually had planned to do a bike outing with Tim and eat somewhere in a park, but apparently that wasn't going to happen. I had another idea though, I showered and got dressed in a comfy outfit before walking to my brother's bedroom. I knocked and opened the door immediately afterward. George wasn't in his bedroom, but his bathroom door was ajar, and I heard the water running. I sat on his desk chair and waited for him to finish showering. There was mostly school stuff on his desk, which reminded me that I was supposed to tutor him, but what caught my attention was a pile of drawings. I grabbed the one on top and admired it, it was amazing, did George draw that? This was seriously good! I browsed through the pile of drawing, mostly black and white portraits, until I found one that really hit me like a train. It was me; I was the boy on the drawing! The water stopped running, so I quickly snapped a picture of the drawing with my phone and did my best to put everything back where I found it. I sat on the edge of my brother's bed and waited. A few minutes later, George walked out of the bathroom, buck naked. He immediately caught sight of me, sitting on his bed, and frowned. "What the fuck are you doing here?" He inquired, annoyed. I was taken aback by his reaction and raised my eyebrow. "I... uh... Do you mind if Tim and Jean-Baptiste drop by this afternoon?" I asked, still confused about George's aggressiveness. He was so difficult to read and understand most of the time. "Ok." George accepted after a long, exasperated sigh. "But I'm inviting guys over too." He notified me. I nodded submissively. I mean, I know he wasn't asking anyway. "I can prepare some cr�pes if you want?" I sheepishly suggested. My brother chuckled lightly and smiled. "You little manipulative bitch!" He teased. That was truly the pot calling the kettle back. George could hardly lecture me about manipulating others to get whatever the fuck he wanted. "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach!" I shot back before winking. Witnessing my brother fully naked in front of me was definitely stirring the wrong kind of thoughts in me but I tried my best to supress them. "I don't know Baby Henri, I never cooked anything for you, and you seem pretty hooked." He pointed out playfully. Touch�. I stared back at him and gulped. I felt so easy to read for him, and he was so enigmatic to me. That was really unfair, I thought. "You wish!" I retorted, not wanting to sound too desperate, even though George seems to like me being desperate. "You're a poor excuse of a liar." He sneered mischievously. "Are you going to deny it after so many years whining for my attention?" Damnit! George could really be such a smartass and a show-off. One moment he was so nice and the other he bugged the shit out of me. I texted Jean-Baptiste and Timoth�e to invite them over and I headed to the kitchen to prepare the cr�pes dough. Since my brother was inviting guys over, I prepared a lot of dough, like really. I was cleaning the kitchen when the doorbell rang. I hoped my brother didn't have the guts to invite the stupid bitch over, because I was in no mood to deal with their disgusting display of affection. "Vianney! How are you?" I declared with a fake smile. "Hi Henri, thank you guys for having me over." Vianney exclaimed joyfully. Well, the pleasure is all yours Vianney because, clearly, I was having none seeing your rich-ass face at my door. I brought Vianney to the living room and shouted at George to come downstairs. A few moments later, my brother arrived, just as Vianney was in the kitchen pouring himself a glass of water. "What's the matter Baby Henri?" George asked. "Baby Henri?" Vianney repeated with a mocking tone after emerging from the kitchen. My brother jumped with surprise and turned to see that his friend was here too. "Isn't Henri like barely a year younger than you?" Vianney pointed out chuckling. "A year that makes all the difference!" My brother insisted with obvious bad faith. "Whatever!" I laughed. I headed back to the kitchen and finished cleaning before all the guests arrived. Apart from Vianney, my brother invited one of his Swimming teammates, Carl. Jean-Baptiste arrived shortly after and Timoth�e was the last one to show up. So, no Julie today, thank God! I started preparing the cr�pes as they were all playing video games in the living room. Eventually, Tim joined me in the kitchen, and he hugged me from behind, dropping wet kisses on my neck as I was cooking. "Thank you for inviting my best friend, baby!" He whispered to me sensually. I wanted to say something, but I was too busy coping with both the cooking and the arousing treatment he was giving me. Fuck Tim, why do you have to be so goddamn sexy?! "Do you think I could stay tonight, and maybe sleep here?" He asked me out of the blue. "Yes." I answered a little too quickly. Fuck, what would my brother say? I wanted to avoid another drama at all cost, but I truly wanted Tim to stay the night. It had been some time I didn't get the chance to spend a moment alone with him after all. I turned my face to look at Tim and he was displaying a boyish smile, I was melting, overwhelmed by his cuteness. "I can't wait baby; you're driving me crazy!" My boyfriend declared as his hand slipped inside my trousers and squeezed my bare ass. "Oh god, right in front of my salad?" Vianney exclaimed with a faked dramatic voice as he walked in the kitchen, laughing at his own joke. People laughing at their own jokes, good lord... Tim took his hand out of my trousers and kissed me in the neck tenderly. My cr�pes were ready so the three of us went back to the living room where my brother, Carl and Jean-Baptiste were playing a video game. They all cheered up when they noticed the cr�pes were ready and they paused their video game. The afternoon was great. We ate like pigs, played board games together, and even watched a movie. Everyone was in a great mood, me included. Carl, my future swimming teammate, was often shooting me quick glances. George had most likely told him he was going to train me, and I could tell Carl was gauging me. He was otherwise rather private. I was already intimidated enough as it was, and he wasn't really helping me relax by scrutinizing me so shamelessly. Fuck, two weeks from now and I would be beginning my swimming practice. That's going to be something. Around dinner time, everyone took off. Everyone but Timoth�e, who stayed. When my brother eventually would realise Tim was staying the night, he would be very upset at me. Therefore, as the manipulative baby brother he taught me to become, I tried to smother his anger. I asked Tim to wait for me in the living room and headed to George's bedroom. "Yeah?" He nonchalantly answered as I knocked on his door. "We were about to head to the supermarket. What would you like to eat tonight?" I inquired with a shy voice. My brother turned on his rolling desk chair and shot me a glance that meant only one thing; he was getting none of it. "We?" He repeated. "So, your little boyfriend is staying for dinner?" "Uh... well, yeah and... uh... I thought that... uh... maybe he could stay the night?" I hesitantly said, almost asking my brother's permission in my intonation. George raised his eyebrow and gestured to me to come to him. I obliged and walked to his desk chair. He took both of my hands in his and brought them to his face before kissing them. "My sweet baby brother." He began between kisses. "Do you remember what I told you the last time you invited Tim over?" He asked calmly, but I knew he was fuming inside. "That you didn't want me to take him to my room?" I guessed with a frail voice. My brother stood up and he was now facing me. He took my face in his hands and locked his eyes in mine. "And I suppose you understood why that is?" He scolded me with a stern face. "If this loser fucks my baby brother in this house, while I'm here..." George threatened. "He won't, I promise." I mumbled weakly. George scrutinized me and sighed. "Fine." He eventually exclaimed. "Go get your boyfriend's dick, but you know the rules. I trust you Henri." He warned me with a smirk, even though I knew he was dead serious. "You still haven't told me what you wanted for dinner." I pointed out with a chuckle. "Do you think you could cook granny's risotto?" He asked with a boyish expression. I nodded with a smile, relishing on the power food was giving me on him. He thought he was too smart to fall into my traps, but I knew better. George handed me our parents credit card and I rushed out of my brother's bedroom and downstairs where Tim awaited me. I grabbed a coat and we headed to the supermarket together. While I picked everything I needed for my risotto, as well as some needed groceries, Tim wrecked the candy and biscuit shelf and grabbed pretty much everything and anything that his parents otherwise wouldn't let him buy. He was really a kid; a tall, super stock, and smocking hot kid. Does it mean I was his daddy? I hope not. As we were heading back to my place, it started raining again. Tim and I immediately started to run, and as I was apparently too slow, he took my shopping bag. He managed to reach the house porch before me anyway, but the whole operation had been rather useless since we both were soaking wet. Water dripping from our chins and hair. I rushed to store the groceries in the kitchen and once I was done Tim and I headed to my bedroom. I undressed fully, even my underwear was wet, and once I was buck naked, I started undressing my boyfriend. "I have no changes." Tim lamented. I gave him a shit eating grin and kneeled in front of him. "You can take some of mine." I told him with a mischievous smile. "But for now, I really just want to undress you." I added. "Fuck, Henri..." Tim moaned as I was unbuttoning his jeans savagely. I hooked his waistband and roughly pulled his jeans to his thigh. Tim took his sweatshirt off and tossed it on the floor along with my clothes. Eagerly, I kissed the bulge stretching his underwear. I took his massive dick out and, in one go, I opened my mouth and swallowed a large part of his dick. Tim moaned and I furiously jerked his shaft as I was rubbing my tongue all over his cockhead. I was naked, on my knees, servicing my boyfriend. I fucking loved it! Worshiping his cock was something I enjoyed tremendously, but right now I had to be quick. I blew his cock at a fast pace. My right hand was furiously wanking the base of his massive dick and my left hand was rubbing his balls and scrotum. "You fucking slut!" Tim grunted. "You're such a good little fag, slurping on a real man's cock!" He added lustfully. "I'm going to give you what you want, fucking faggot!" He announced in a hoarse voice. Seconds later, his cum was filling my mouth and I eagerly swallowed as his load splattered my throat and palate. I stood up and put myself on tiptoes to kiss Tim, the taste of his own cum very much present on my lips and breath. We made out for a few minutes, his hands gripping and squeezing my butt cheeks. "Let's get you some clothes!" I then exclaimed. Tim looked back at me, puzzled. I grabbed dry sweatpants and t-shirt and got dressed. Tim was looking at me expectantly, naked in my bedroom, probably waiting for me to give him some dry clothes too. I browsed my wardrobe and threw my largest sweatpants and sweaters at him, but even those were far too small for him, he looked like he was wearing kid size, it was kind of ridiculous. I then had an idea and I tossed him a dry towel and opened my bedroom door. "Follow me!" I instructed him. He frowned and scrutinized me, but he obliged nonetheless, after wrapping the towel around his waist. "Yeah?" George answered after I knocked on his door. I grabbed Tim's hand and pulled him inside of my brother's bedroom with me. George's eyes grew wide, and he watched me quizzically. "What the fuck?" He eventually declared with confusion. "Uh... Our clothes are soaking wet because it rained when we came back from the supermarket." I explained with a fake shy voice. "Tim tried some of my clothes, but they are really too small for him." I then explained, shooting a sidelong glance at my boyfriend that seemed completely dazzled. "Could you please lend Tim some clothes before we wash his?" I then implored. George shot me a glance that meant `you've got to be kidding me!'. "Yeah, I'm sorry dude." Tim apologised with embarrassment. "I didn't think about taking a change with me." He sighed. My brother could be an asshole sometimes, but he was an asshole with manners. So I was pretty sure he would accept to lend Tim some of his clothes. To say that this wasn't exactly pleasing him, however, would be an understatement. He got up from his chair and opened his large wardrobe. I, for example, never got to see this wardrobe opened in my entire life, and I lived here. George browsed through his clothes for a few minutes and picked a sweater and some grey sweatpants. He then handed them to Tim that blushed and thanked him shyly. "Do you have underwear too, by any chance?" I inquired. George shot me an offended glance and I knew he wasn't amused. "What? His underwear is wet too!" I justified. "Well then go grab some of dad's then." My brother replied with a stern face. He wasn't going to give in. I followed George's advice and took a brief in my father's drawer. My brother's sweatpants were a little tight on Tim, but that only outlined his fat cock and muscled ass better, therefore I loved it. My brother's scent was all over my boyfriend now, and it honestly drove my mind to an even higher level of confusion. I closed my eyes and hugged Timoth�e, but my nose was smelling George. Tim was so strong, I loved when he squeezed my body in his arms until I couldn't move at all. I didn't feel trapped in the way others might, I felt secured and safe in a strong man's arms. Tim being so much stronger than I was absolutely didn't bother me, it turned me on. "I love you Henri." Tim murmured before kissing my forehead. "Me too." I answered with a tender smile. "Are you hungry?" I asked. "I'm fucking starving." Tim retorted with a chuckle. "Me too, actually." I confessed. "I'm going to cook before my brother decides to kill and eat us both." I announced smiling at my boyfriend. He nodded and eventually broke off the embrace, subsequently freeing me. Tim and I headed to the kitchen. I started my risotto and my boyfriend watched me cooking. We chatted while I prepared dinner and he kissed me in the neck and hugged me from behind. Fuck, he was so hot. I did my best to stay focused though, as my granny's risotto required some skill to make. Once it was ready, I sent Tim to fetch George from his bedroom and the two of them came back downstairs together a few minutes later. Dinner was nice, both George and Timoth�e devoured their meal as only athletes can, and I was pretty happy about my risotto. I didn't speak much during dinner, as I wanted Tim and George to bond as much as possible on their own, and simply observed them with the spark of hope that they might get along after all. After dinner George went back to his bedroom and I stayed with Tim in the living room to watch an episode of The Crown. I almost fell asleep during the episode as I was pretty whacked, but I managed to stay awake despite Tim's strong arms lulling me to sleep. "Let's go to bed. I'm actually exhausted!" I declared with a faint smile. Tim nodded and lifted me with his arm under my butt. I giggled like a little boy. "Okay, I'm not -that- exhausted, I still can walk!" I pointed out laughing. Tim flashed me his pearly white teeth and carried me upstairs, ignoring my pleads to be dropped. Timoth�e opened my bedroom door and roughly threw me on the mattress on my stomach. He jumped on the bed and climbed on top of me. I tried to move but Tim immediately pinned my hands on the bed, preventing me from moving. "Don't move, little faggot." Tim warned me with a mischievous voice. "Let your man take care of you." I sighed of anticipation, sensing my arousal grow up in my at record speed. My boyfriend yanked my sweatpants off me in a swift move and almost tore down my underwear in the process of removing them. After giving him a little help to remove my t-shirt I was lying buck naked on my stomach in front of him. Tim spread my legs and I felt my tight pink hole being exposed to him. "Baby, wait, I..." I began just before feeling his tongue plunge in my virgin hole. Gosh, that felt so good! Tim was rimming me like a lunatic, rubbing his tongue everywhere. I felt a wave of pleasure browsing through me. I was rock-hard and my cock was pressed against the mattress. Tim was giving me so much pleasure with his tongue, I can barely imagine what his monstrous cock would feel like. Tim straightened up and I felt his cockhead pressing against my well lubed hole. Fuck, no, that couldn't happen. "Baby no." I said, pushing Tim's thigh away with my hand. He didn't seem to care though, and kept pressing, my hole threatened to let his fat dick inside at any moment now. And that's not what I wanted. "No! Tim, No. My brother, I... no, my brother..." I pleaded, not making any sense for my boyfriend. "Your brother what?" Tim snapped angrily. "What about him now?" He insisted, far from his usual sweet gentle tone. He was intimidating me, I wasn't feeling that safe anymore. "My brother is... My brother will hear us!" I quickly came up with an excuse as to why I brought my brother up as Tim was about to take my cherry. "Who cares?" Tim shot back defensively. As quickly as I could, I turned on my back and straightened up. I looked at my boyfriend, he seemed upset. I was breathing heavily; my heart was beating fast. Didn't he care at all that I said no? I was genuinely uncomfortable now. We stared at one another, silently, for a few seconds. "Whatever." Tim eventually said, clearly frustrated I wasn't going to let him fuck me. He rolled on the side, back to me, and covered himself with the blanket. I pretexted wanting to drink a glass of water and walked out of my bedroom. I sat on the kitchen table contemplating what kind of game I was playing at. I loved Tim, and I wanted to have sex with him, so why did I obey my brother's instructions not to, just because his ego couldn't stand his baby brother being fucked while he was under the same roof. At the same time however, I had desired for George to grow this kind of territoriality over me for a long time, and I felt the same towards him. I couldn't stand seeing my brother with a girl, and he couldn't stand seeing me with a guy, surely that was normal for siblings to be uncomfortable around each other's dates, right? But I'm not sure it was just about being uncomfortable though, it certainly wasn't for me. I sighed and decided to head back to bed. When I went back to my bedroom Tim was snoring, fast asleep in my bed. I slipped on my bed and snuggled against him, spooning him. He kind of awoke and turned to face me. He opened his big strong arms and I crawled against his torso. With his eyes still closed he kissed my hair and forehead tenderly as I my hands were resting on the back of his neck. "I love you Tim. I'm sorry." I apologised, not really knowing why. Perhaps just because I felt I disappointed him. "I'm crazy about you Henri." My boyfriend murmured in a hoarse voice. I closed my eyes and felt safe again. Yes, this was my boyfriend. Gentle, kind, considerate and tender. I was crazy about him too. I drifted to sleep peacefully, feeling protected and cared for. You can already get the full book here: https://www.mybestseller.co.uk/site/userwebsite/index/id/v.dehabsbourg The book exists in E-book and Printed version, go and get it! For any question, please reach out to me on this e-mail: [email protected] And follow us on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/habsbourg.publications/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/brotherly-games/brotherly-games-2	Date: Fri, 12 Apr 2024 20:03:02 +0000 From: [email protected] Subject: Brotherly Games // Chapter 2 Hey there! Please do not forget to make a donation to Nifty for the amazing platform they provide for both readers and writers. If you wish to contact me, you may do so by E-mail: [email protected] Or follow me on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/habsbourg.publications/ I would also like to thank Max Potter for taking his time collaborating with me on this book. You can read his stories on: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#maxpotter Chapitre 2 "So, tell us more about your boyfriend." My mom asked out of the blue as we were having dinner with my parents and George after a cold rainy day. "Well, he is in our class with George." I started explaining after a moment of awkward silence. I was not even sure he was my boyfriend any longer. "He is actually very smart, we bonded mostly by doing homework together!" I said as I caught my brother pout. Yeah, George was not a very studious teenager and according to him people like Tim and I were plain boring. "Oh really? That's great isn't it Philippe?" My mother invited my father to participate in the discussion even though he seemed uneasy. "Is he doing any sport?" He eventually asked. I chuckled, my father was always so leaned on sport and I knew he was a bit disappointed I wasn't doing any. "Oh yeah! Actually, he is playing rugby. I'm going to watch his match Saturday afternoon with Jean-Baptiste." I answered. My parents looked at one another with a satisfactory grin. "That sounds like fun!" My father exclaimed. "I would love to see a rugby match." I caught my brother's offended expression even though he tried his best to keep his composure. My parents would never come to his swimming competitions even though George was super talented and won some impressive championships. "Perhaps another time dad. I think I should ask him first or he is going to freak out!" I declined with a chuckle. "He already met me; he probably does not really want to meet you, in case you are just as crazy." George mumbled with a hint of dark humour. My parents frowned and looked at each other, unamused. "Have you presented your apologies to this young man, George?" My father then asked. And there we are, they had to find some way to blame George for something. "Timoth�e is the one who should apologise to George." I declared with a stern face. Mom, Dad and George turned to me with utter confusion. "He was the one that started it, George's reaction was legitimate." I added. My parents were lost, and I even thought I saw some guilt on their faces. George was on cloud nine and displayed a satisfactory smile. "Let's just all move on from that story anyway." My brother declared with fake magnanimity. Well, that certainly shut my parent's mouths, and I couldn't help but feel some sense of pride defending George in front of them. Mom quickly changed topics and we finished eating while doing some small talk. After dinner we watched television together and after 10pm I felt tired, so I walked upstairs to my bedroom. Before I could open my door, I sensed my arm being roughly grabbed and George pulled me to him in the corridor. My body was, once again, pressed against his and my heartbeat was speeding up. "Good job, Baby Henri. Too bad you didn't finish your explanation and tell them why exactly I was mad at your loser boyfriend." He teased me. I winced in pain, my ribs once again hurting, and I just looked my brother in the eye, trying to understand what was going on between us two. "Good night, George." I eventually told him with a soft tone, as he wasn't letting me go. "Good night, Baby Henri." He answered me as he finally released my arm from his grip. "Oh, one last thing; if the parents go to see any of your little boyfriend's matches, I swear to god I'll kill him." He said before disappearing in his bedroom. Once I had closed my own door behind me, I sighed heavily and thought about how much my life went from normal to absolutely fucked up. Yet I wasn't sure I wanted my normal life anymore. Maybe I liked the fucked-up relationship with my brother better than the silence treatment he usually gave me. I still didn't make sense of it, my brother never seemed to give a shit about me, and he seemed suddenly so... territorial somehow. I took off my clothes and threw myself over the mattress. I was definitely tired, but I realised I was still too upset to sleep. My hand found its way to my cock and I closed my eyes, picturing the things that would help me cum. I tried to have neutral thoughts, somehow, but my mind kept coming back to Timoth�e. He was so handsome, he was so tall, he would so easily overpower me. Imagining losing my virginity to his massive cock was both terrifying and arousing, but as much as I tried to convince myself that he was an asshole, I couldn't stop picturing him forcing my head up and down his shaft. Eventually, I stopped resisting and pictured us together, having the roughest sex and loving it. I came all over my chest and some even reached my neck and chin. I sighed and meticulously whipped the cum off me before throwing the cum-rag by the side of my bed. In no time I was fast asleep, lulled by the rain pouring all over my windows. When I woke up the next morning the weather was still shit. The sun was not up yet, and the rain was still pouring heavily over Toulouse. Mom was going to our high school to meet the director, probably about George, but she did not specify it. At least George and I wouldn't have to walk under the rain to the bus stop. The trip to the school was dead silent, Mom was probably thinking about the appointment and my brother must have been a little nervous about a possible sanction. We parked in the street and the three of us ran to the school. Once we were sheltered inside, I immediately noticed that Timoth�e was there. Our eyes met and he walked to me. "Hey Henri!" He said when he was close enough. "Listen, I..." He started saying, probably oblivious to the fact that the woman standing next to me was my mother, but she immediately made the link and a wide smile spread on her face. "Oh, hello!" Mom greeted him warmly while extending her hand. Timoth�e was taken aback, and I could read the obvious confusion on his face. "I'm Henri's mother! And I assume you to be Timoth�e?" She continued. I could tell that my brother was mad, and he turned before walking away from us. "Hello, Madame De Montpensier." Timoth�e eventually answered after he came back to his senses. "Nice to meet you!" "Pleasure is mine, my husband and I were anxious to finally meet you!" She declared. She was definitely over the top, I thought. It hadn't been a week since I dated Tim and she felt the need to talk about it like he was my fianc�. "Well I should get going!" She declared after an awkward silence between Tim, Mom and I. She walked away and Tim and I were finally alone. I giggled after a moment of silence, noticing the visible embarrassment on Tim's face, unsure if he did something wrong or not. I came to the conclusion last night that I didn't actually want to break up with Tim over the leaking of our sextape, but I still wanted him to know how pissed I was. He smiled at me and was about to say something, but I just walked to the classroom before he had the chance. I sat and Timoth�e was about to sit by my side when George forestalled him and took his place. Tim was dumbfounded and seemed irritated to say the least, he shot a glance at me, but I didn't say anything. "Yes, Timy?" My brother asked provocatively, playing dumb. "Pff!" My boyfriend simply answered before finding another spot to sit. I remembered the first day at the high school, when George picked the furthest spot possible to sit. Now he was sitting next to me, and I was savouring my little victory. I knew he was only doing so only to piss Timoth�e off, but I didn't care. The rest of the class was uneventful, and we were ready to go to the next one when our teacher halted both George and me. "Can I speak to you both before you head to your next class?" She told us. We waited for everyone to leave the classroom by her desk and she closed the door. "So, George, you failed last year, and your grades are still rather low." She began. I was not sure why I was supposed to be there as it was none of my business. "Yes, I know. Sorry, I will work harder." George apologised, deeply embarrassed to be put in such a position in front of me. "And you, Henri, you are probably the best student in the class." She then said. "Well, that's no competition now, is it?" I shot back, irritated that she fuelled our already unhealthy brotherly rivalry. She was obviously surprised at my impudence, but she regained her composure. "No, it's not a competition. However, for you George, the high school does have tutoring programs with either senior students or very studious ones of your grade. Since you two are brothers, I wondered if you wanted to be tutored by Henri?" She proposed. I was taken aback and so was George. "Henri, you would get some bonus points from it. And you, George, well you would probably have the opportunity to do better!" She further explained after a moment of silence. My brother shot a glance at me, expecting me to say something. "If that's what you want, I'm in." I told my brother. I could tell he was hesitant . Failing the first trimester would probably mean bad news for him, the risk of getting our parents mad and being grounded, even losing the opportunity to be part of the swimming team. But accepting my help was probably something particularly humiliating in his opinion. "This is an official school program, so I need both of you to agree so we can sign the papers. You have two hours of mandatory work per week at the school library, and since you two live together I encourage further study at home." The teacher explained. "George, refusing a tutoring program in your situation is not recommended and would certainly not play in your favour for the next classroom council." "Fine!" He reluctantly agreed. "I will get the papers to the headmaster by tomorrow, you two will sign them before your lunch break." She announced. "Thank you, professor!" I said before following my brother that was storming out of the classroom. I caught up to him in the now empty corridors. I followed him and we eventually arrived at our next class, twenty minutes late. "Well! Where have you two been!" Our teacher asked, annoyed. "Mrs Simeon wanted to talk to us." I simply explained with a faint smile. The teacher shook his head disapprovingly but gestured to take our seats. Tim glared at my brother and I suspiciously as we passed by him. I was distracted during the rest of the morning and I welcomed the lunch break as an opportunity to take my mind off this whole situation with George. "What did Mrs Simeon want to talk to you about?" Jean-Baptiste eventually asked as we were eating lunch with Nad�ge. "She just wanted me to tutor my brother to improve his grades" I truthfully said, hoping that would not provoke any further questions. "And you're going to do it?" Jean-Baptiste asked, barely hiding his true feelings about it. "Sure, this will get me bonus points as well" I answered. "I'm not sure your brother deserves it, after what he did to you!" Nad�ge exclaimed. I was seething inside, I had enough. Without even finishing my lunch I stood up and walked out of the cafeteria furiously without saying anything to either my best friend or his girlfriend. � By 7pm, dinner was in the oven, and I was still alone in the house. I started cleaning the kitchen while the dinner was cooking when suddenly someone rang at the door and I walked to the hall to get it. "Oh, hey there! Aren't you supposed to have rugby practice tonight?" I asked, a little confused at seeing Tim after opening the door. "Yes, we were, but the field turned into a swimming pool because of the rain so we will train tomorrow instead!" Tim answered. "Can I talk to you, please?" He pleaded with puppy eyes. I simply nodded and invited him to come inside. "Henri, Babe, I am so sorry about what happened, I swear to you that I had no idea Vianney would show the video to anyone." "Tim! You didn't have any rights to show it to Vianney in the first place!" I protested energetically. "But if it was just that, I wouldn't care that much, really." I specified as Tim looked very uncomfortable and guilty. "My own brother saw me with a dick in my mouth, and trust me that's not the way I wanted him to find out about me being gay!" I lectured as Tim looked down and stared at his feet. "Tim, you are my boyfriend, we need to be able to trust each other. Can I trust you from now on?" I asked with a serious tone. "Does it mean that...?" My boyfriend asked as a smile appeared on his face. "What? You thought I would dump you?" I teased with a smile of my own. "You won't get rid of me so easily." I concluded as Tim displayed a boyish joy. He pulled me for a kiss and I wrapped my arms around his muscled back as we made out. What was supposed to be a quick peck on the lips turned into a passionate make out session. "I am sorry about what happened baby." He whispered with a guilty expression. "I swear I will never let you down again." He apologised. I dropped wet kisses all over his neck and he rolled his eyes in pleasure. Playfully, I bit his earlobes and he moaned, his hands caressed my lower back and even adventured to my firm ass. I backed off a little and locked my eyes in his. "You are so handsome!" I simply declared, mesmerised by how much he turned me on. "Does it mean I am forgiven?" He playfully asked as he roughly squeezed my butt cheeks. "Depends, I like the way you try to apologise, I think I want you to keep going!" I teased with a smirk. He smiled back at me and pressed his lips against mine. He gently pressed me against the entrance hall's wall and his body pinned mine against the hard stone. I winced a little as my ribs hurt but I certainly did not want him to stop. I could feel his hardening bulge against my stomach. He was driving me crazy with lust. His scent, his muscled body, his enormous dick, I loved it all. With my right hand, I started rubbing his crotch and he grunted animalistically. "Shouldn't we go to your bedroom baby?" My boyfriend suggested with a low hoarse voice. "Yeah, that's a brilliant idea Timy!" A voice declared next to us. I jumped with surprise and quickly turned my head to realise my brother was standing in the hall, watching us with a fake smile that poorly dissimulated his anger. "I am terribly sorry to interrupt. The door was ajar and, you know, this happens to be my fucking house too." "I'll see you tomorrow Tim." I eventually told Timoth�e as he looked back at me incredulous to be sent away like that. I watched him with pleading eyes, doing my best to avoid another fight. He gave in and sighed before walking out of the house. "Yeah, see you tomorrow baby!" My brother provocatively said before slamming the door behind him. "You could try to make an effort with him." I lamented weakly after a few seconds of awkward silence during which George and I stared at one another. George threateningly walked to me until his body pinned mine at the exact same spot Tim's body did a few minutes earlier. I have no idea why, but I closed my eyes and gulped. He was intimidating me; I sensed his deep anger even without having to look at him. I felt his warm breath on my face. The palm of his right hand caressed my left cheek as his fingertips rubbed my temple. "If only you knew how much energy it took me not to crush his pathetic skull against that wall when I saw him standing here, then you wouldn't underestimate how much effort I am already doing." George explained with a low but incredibly serious tone. "Now go wash your face, I can smell his scent on you." He commanded me. Without thinking, I obeyed and walked to the bathroom to rinse my hands and face. As I watched my own reflection on the mirror, I wondered what the fuck was happening to me. My parents came back home shortly after and I announced to them that I cooked dinner. They were thrilled and we all sat around the table as I brought them the main dish. I caught George's boyish expression as he realised that I prepared his favourite meal, and I smiled like an idiot while sitting. "Thank you, son! That looks delicious." Dad complimented me before serving us generous portions. "Bon app�tit!" Mom told us as we all began to eat. "How was your day, boys?" Dad asked joyfully. "It was fine, thanks, what about yours?" I answered as George was visibly too busy devouring his meal to even notice someone asked him a question. "Actually, George, I had met with your headmaster this morning." Mom declared. I closed my eyes and sighed. If they ruined the dinner I had prepared especially for George I swear to god I might just smite them. George looked at my mother anxiously and stopped chewing his mouthful. "You won't get expelled, or even sanctioned for what happened... uh... well you know what I'm talking about" My mom stuttered painfully. George seemed relieved, and so was I, even though I kept my composure. "However, he told me they wanted you to start a tutoring program as soon as possible for your grades." She added with a lecturing tone. "Henri is going to tutor me. We settled that with our classroom's directress today." George said casually. This was nothing like him, openly admitting to our parents that I was going to help him with something and make me look like the `good guy'. "In exchange he asked me to train him to be part of the swimming team." He added with a smirk. Well, that was new. Even under torture I'm not quite sure I would have agreed to anything like this, I hated sport with passion. I glared at my brother with disbelief and annoyance. "Henri?!" Dad exclaimed, incapable of hiding his joy. "I had no idea you wanted to be a swimmer!" He declared with a triumphant smile. Yeah, me neither dad, I thought. I simply smiled politely, cursing my brother in my head for trapping me like this. George took all the attention away from him and conveniently moved it to me. "That's great!" Mom concurred. George was displaying his evilest smile to me. Well, I was fucked. "Yes, but not until my ribs are fully healed of course!" I eventually declared, hoping to at least grant myself a few weeks before George tried to drown me. "How long would that be?" Dad inquired. "Four weeks, at least." I announced. My parents nodded and George rolled his eyes, disappointed that his evil plan would have to wait for at least a month. At last everyone was in a good mood, and we finished dinner like a real family. After dinner we watched a movie together. At some point during the movie George announced that he was going to sleep, and ten minutes later I followed him. I went straight to his bedroom and knocked quickly before entering. I closed the door behind me and turned to face him. He was lying on his bed, wearing only his navy-blue brief underwear, scrolling on his phone. I stared at him for several seconds, mesmerised by his defined body. I rarely, if ever, saw his full body. Gosh, he was gorgeous. I knew he was athletic of course, but I suppose I never truly realised he was such a Greek God. "What is it, Baby Henri?" He asked, getting me back to earth. He used that nickname to demean me, but the truth is I liked it. I made sure I didn't let him know because I'm sure he would have stopped otherwise. "George, I don't want to be a swimmer. Do you know how much I suck at sports?" I lamented while sitting on the edge of his bed. "How cute, you think I want to actually make a swimmer out of you. I can't wait to see you being terrible at it, that's the whole point. Oh, I will love being the one to smile condescendingly at you as you lose competition after competition." He explained with a mischievous smile. Ok, so now that made much more sense to me. George wanted to prove once and for all that he was way better than me at something. It was probably rather pointless, as I think anybody could have guessed that I was no match for George athletically speaking. "What if I actually end up being good at it?" I provocatively asked with a chuckle. Once again, George was taken aback by the fact that I was not mad at him even though he tried his best to infuriate me. The truth was that I really did not want to be part of the swimming team, I hated sport. I could bear losing the competitions but training twice a week was out of the question. I hoped that provoking him would somehow convince him to drop the idea altogether. "Don't worry, if you're any good at it, which I seriously doubt, I will just stop training you and you'll sit on the bench by the pool waiting for the practice to finish." He answered casually. I rolled my eyes and sighed. "And if you win any competition, we will play a game that I dubbed: `Let's see if Baby Henri can hold his breath under the water for a whole hour'." He added before chuckling to his own joke. "Now get out!" George eventually commanded, exasperated. I complied and walked out of his bedroom. When I got out of George's room I bumped into my father. He looked at me quizzically and he frowned. "Is everything alright?" He asked, scrutinising me. "Yeah! I just said goodnight to George !" I lied quickly. Dad raised his eyebrow in surprise. Yeah, it didn't sound convincing, but you know, I just answered on the spot. "Well, goodnight too then." He answered with a laugh. I smiled back at him and leaned to kiss him on the cheek. � Most of the time, being French was great. It meant I could wander in the old paved alleys and buy the best pastry in the world for a quick breakfast, enjoy a sweet worriless life under the sunny sky of southwestern France without having to be nervous about my future. Today, however, being French meant the buses were on strike. George and I were standing at the bus stop when we found out there was no bus to wait for anyway. My teenage mind, far away from socio-economic issues, simply cursed the bus drivers. George seemed unphased, being late for school was not really something he would have cared about anyway. Our parents were already off to work when we left the house earlier this morning, it meant that we were on our own. "I guess we will have to walk!" I eventually lamented, resigned about the 20ish minutes walking distance to Ozenne high school. (I know, first world problems) "No fucking way!" George shot back, annoyed. I rolled my eyes and gave him a look. "Let's see if we can find a City-Bike first!" He then suggested, understanding I was not going to ditch class. "Ok." I simply mumbled, I hated cycling, but that was probably our fastest option anyway. We walked to the closest Vel`Toulouse Station to find out that there was only one available bike left. "Let's take this one!" George exclaimed. I glared at him, wondering if he could count up to two or if he just wanted to leave me right there and take the bike for himself. "Come on, you'll just sit on the front iron-basket." He specified. "Are you for real! You're going to get us killed!" I refused categorically. "Come on, we'll be late!" He insisted with a smirk. "Why aren't you the one sitting on the front basket then?" I retorqued, knowing this was a trap. "Because you hate cycling!" He argued while sighing. "That's not true." I lied faint-heartedly. "Come on. I still remember how much you cried when you were eight years old and Dad taught you how to ride a bike." He laughed. "That was hilarious." He added, obviously replaying the scene that I only vaguely remembered. "That was a long time ago." I mumbled, vexed. "I mean, you haven't changed a bit Baby Henri. I could hardly tell the difference!" He teased while grabbing the bike. "You wish!" I shot back as I was trying to find the best angle to sit on the front basket. He locked his eyes in mine and smiled. "Come on! Let's go, we don't have all day!" He rushed me to sit on the bike. The position was very uncomfortable, and the iron basket was squaring my butt-cheeks. "You'll have to find another position cause I can't see shit like that!" George complained. "Lean on me so I can see the road!" He instructed. I leaned and my back was now pressed against his chest. Our two faces were millimetres from one another as his left cheek was almost rubbing against my right one. I could very well smell his perfume as if it were mine. His hands were on mine as I was clenching on the handlebar except his fingers were resting on the brakes. I couldn't tell you why, but in that intimate position, I once again felt confused and somehow anxious. "That's much better!" My brother casually declared. As if this was no big deal. Well, it was a big deal for me anyway. George must have interpreted my sudden confusion for nervousness because he tried his best to be gentle and avoid abrupt movements. "Relax, Baby Henri. You can trust me; I won't get us killed." He told me. I turned my eyes from the road and looked him dead in the eyes. "I trust you." I declared with a faint smile. I wanted to believe I was clutching at the handlebar so hard because I was nervous, because I hated cycling, because I was stressed about being late. But inwardly I knew that George was the reason. I couldn't describe the way I felt around him, both incredibly safe and at the same time I sensed the perilousness of something else. Something wrong, something that I was in no way supposed to feel. Somehow, despite George's numerous attempts to get me killed on the trip, we arrived at the school safe and sound. We were only five minutes late when we reached the classroom and I immediately noticed that we were not the only ones that the bus strike inconvenienced. Timoth�e had left my usual spot empty next to him so I sat by his side. "Hey baby! I hope I didn't cause too much trouble between you and your brother yesterday." Timoth�e whispered with a cocky smile. "Don't worry, he has seen worse than that. Thanks to your best friend Vianney." I reminded him. He glanced at me for a few seconds before realising I was just teasing him and laughed. "Quiet!" The teacher scolded with a stern face. We exchanged complicit looks with Timoth�e and refocused on our lesson. "I beg your pardon?" Jean Baptiste exclaimed in disbelief as we were eating lunch. "You are going to train to be part of the swimming team?" He repeated incredulously. "Yeah!" I confirmed in a chuckle. "I wanted to give it a try, and George volunteered to train me!" I lied. "That's... strange?" Jean-Baptiste answered. "I don't know, that doesn't sound like your brother at all." "You know, he's changed somehow." I explained pensively. "He talked to me more these past days than the three past years combined." I pointed out, conveniently leaving out the part where some of these interactions were more aggressive and territorial than what my explanation suggested. "Are you sure it's not a trap to drown you at least?" J-B joked with a smirk. Well, no, to be fair I wasn't entirely sure the whole point of George's operation wasn't to drown me. "What are you doing for Halloween?" I changed the topic quickly. "Duh... We are going to Vianney's big party, what are you talking about?" He answered me like I was an absolute idiot. "I don't know if I'm going, especially after what he did to me!" I shot back, slightly irritated by the condescending answer. "What?" Jean-Baptiste asked me with a baffled expression. "Is there something I don't know?" He wondered. And then it struck me. "Oh my god! I totally forgot to tell you!" I exclaimed in front of my best friend's growing confusion. "What? What happened?" He asked impatiently. "Well, I told you about the fact that Timoth�e recorded me giving him a blowjob." I started shyly. He nodded expectantly, encouraging me to go straight to the point. "Timoth�e sent the video to Vianney. And Vianney showed it to George." I promptly declared. Jean-Baptiste's mouth dropped open in utter shock and I giggled witnessing his astonishment. "That's why George was mad at Timoth�e actually." I added. "Well, in a million years, I never thought I would agree with your brother, but here we are!" J-B eventually snapped. "What the fuck! Why would he even do such a thing! Oh boy, I liked him until now." "Relax, I moved on, he apologised." I tried to reassure him. He looked back at me like I was crazy. "Henri, that's a red flag there! You have been dating for a week, and he already exposed your sextapes without your consent, to your own brother god dammit! He outed you to a family member in the most twisted way possible!" Jean-Baptiste enumerated, infuriated with my nonchalance. "Vianney did it, not Timoth�e!" I pointed out. "Which is why I'm not sure I want to go to his party." "Good lord, Henri, you are far too kind and forgiving for your own good!" He eventually exclaimed with disbelief. I chuckled and he gave me a death stare. My best friend and my brother fighting on the same side is something I never thought I'd witness. Jean-Baptiste knew me better than I knew myself. He dropped the matter. I could be a very submissive person, but gosh I could be stubborn too. The afternoon was shorter than expected. Because of the strike, one of my professors could not make it to the school and therefore George and I were on our way by 3pm after signing the tutoring papers. It was finally autumn vacation which meant ten days without school! When I reached home Timoth�e called me on the phone and I ran to my bedroom to pick up. After all, I didn't want to annoy George considering how little he thought of my boyfriend. "Allo?" I answered. "Hey baby! Do you miss me?" He playfully asked at the other end of the phone. "Oh yeah, terribly!" I lamented. "It has been 20 hellish minutes since I left you at school! How can I even live without you for so long!" I sarcastically said before bursting into laughter. "Well, worry no more because your man has a solution for everything!" He announced joyfully. I cringed a little hearing him calling himself `My man' but I'm not sure why. "I have the house for myself until late in the evening, my parents will be at my sister's handball match tonight!" He declared. "And how am I supposed to reach your house without buses?" I asked with a chuckle. Going and coming back from school had been difficult enough. Timoth�e lived in Saint Cyprien, a neighbourhood built on the other side of the Garonne river. "I will pick you up in half an hour if that's okay for you?" He proposed. I still failed to understand what he meant. Timoth�e was 15, driving a car was not permitted until 18 in France. "I hope you won't get too scared on my little scooter!" He then added. Wait, what? Timoth�e had a scooter now? I'm quite sure I knew he took the subway to go to school. Also, you would have to be deluded to think I wouldn't freak out on a scooter considering how scared I was riding bikes! "I don't know if my parents would allow it, Tim!" I tried to escape. "My brother might rat on me!" I lied. George would never do that, even when we were pretty much not talking, even when he was mad at me, he was simply not that kind of person. "Ok, let me come to your place and we'll see how it goes ok?" He wheedled . I wanted to decline, but I didn't want to sound like I was avoiding him, especially after yesterday's incident. "Sure! See you in a moment then!" I simply answered, a bit nervously perhaps. He hung up and then I wondered if I should warn my brother. In normal circumstances I wouldn't, our house was fairly big so having guests was not an issue at all. But I knew he hated Timoth�e with passion. Anxiously, I went back downstairs, and George was playing videogames on the television. He must have noticed my nervousness because he gave me a sidelong glance. He was focused on his game though and I waited for him to finish his round. At some point however he just paused the game and sighed. "What?" He asked, exasperated. "Well, uh... I just wanted to let you know that Timoth�e is on his way and we are going to hang around here a little bit." I shyly announced while blushing slightly. At that point, I just waited for George's wrath to unfold on me. Surprisingly though, he simply nodded. "Okay Baby Henri." He eventually answered. I was a little confused by his chill reaction but relieved too. I was about to go back upstairs but he grabbed my arm and roughly pulled me to him. I tripped and fell on his lap. "If you bring the loser to your bedroom, I swear to god I'm going to obliviate your door with my fists, and drag his sorry ass out of this house buck naked." George threatened. "There is no way I'm letting this motherfucker stick his dick in my baby brother while I'm sitting in the same fucking house, understood?" He added with a tone that made me shiver with fear. "Yes." I mumbled weakly. Fuck, I should shout at him to fuck off, I should resist, say that I don't need his permission for anything. If he were anyone else I would. As a matter of fact, if I wanted to I would, but the truth was I didn't. "You know you have to obey me, always." He stated, pushing his luck with me. "Yes." I admitted. I gulped painfully and eventually I dared looking at George after avoiding eye contact this whole time. When our eyes met, he displayed a satisfactory smile. I had been waiting for George to be a part of my life for most of my childhood and up until now, I had been witnessing older brothers or sisters being protective of their siblings with envy, and even though it felt wrong and weird to give George the kind of control he was now clearly seeking, a part of me wanted to give it to him while the other part was simply too weak to resist. "Perhaps you're not that stupid after all." He sneered before pushing me away. "Get ready for your boyfriend." He said before resuming his video game. I almost ran back upstairs. I rushed to the bathroom and once the door was closed behind me, I sighed heavily. What the fuck was happening to me? I felt like crying. I cursed myself, I sought to understand what the fuck was wrong with me. I just couldn't process everything; my brain was overwhelmed, and I couldn't think clearly. I caught up my breath and jumped in the shower, Timoth�e would be shortly here so I had to make it quick. "Hey baby!" Timoth�e greeted me. He was wearing his Rugby outfit, I completely forgot that he was supposed to train the day before and couldn't because of the rain, so they rescheduled it this evening. "Hey there!" I greeted him back. "When does your training begin? "6pm!" He announced after giving me a peck on the lips. "So, we don't have that much time actually!" Timoth�e pointed out. He took me in his arms and loudly breathed my scent in. "Do you mind if we chill in your bedroom?" He whispered in my ear as I rested my head on his muscled torso. "Maybe later, ok?" I lied. "George is going out soon, and I wanted to wait for him to leave." I lied again. George was going nowhere as far as I knew, and I doubted he would have left me alone in the house with Tim after the little speech he gave me. "Sure." Timoth�e sighed with disgruntlement. I frowned and locked my eyes in his. "You're not dating me just to get off, now are you?" I snapped, disappointed by his attitude. Tim's face flushed and his eyes grew wide like a deer caught in headlights. "No, No! Baby, I'm sorry that's not what I meant. Gosh I'm sorry!" He profusely apologised before kissing me all over the face. I felt like a hypocrite, if it weren't for my brother, I would have taken him straight to my bedroom and I knew it. And there I was, playing the prudish boyfriend on someone else's command. I took Tim in the living room and we sat on the couch. I turned the television on, and we picked a movie. I snuggled against his body and he caressed my forearm nonchalantly. I felt so good, and I didn't realise I was about to fall asleep just like that. Tim kissed my hair from time to time. My face was resting on his pec. I heard his heartbeat and sensed his pulse. This was so relaxing. Slowly, I drifted and eventually closed my eyes before falling asleep. "Baby?" Timoth�e murmured in my ear. I grunted softly and opened my eyes. I had no idea how long I had been sleeping. "I need to go Baby, I am going to be late for practice otherwise." Timoth�e explained tenderly while caressing my hair. I smiled at him and nodded. Painfully I straightened up and I immediately saw his deformed bulge obscenely stretching his jeans. "Oh, Tim, I'm sorry. I was tired and I fell asleep. I didn't mean to..." I started explaining, realising he had come to visit me but I actually slept the whole time he was here. "Hey! Hey, baby, don't apologise." He interrupted me. He pulled me for a kiss and dropped several pecks on my lips. "It was great! You sleeping on my lap was so sweet really! I just got a little excited, that's it." He chuckled. I smiled and gave him a final kiss before getting up. I walked him to the door and before he could open the door, I pressed my lips against his. He wrapped his arms around my back, and I was on tip toes to be able to reach his height. He was so strong, he smelled so nice, and I don't mean his perfume. "I love you." I declared without even thinking about it. I was shocked to say the least and I opened my eyes to gauge his reaction. He was on cloud nine and his arms wrapped my body with so much strength I had the impression he would crush my bones. "I love you too Henri! I love you so much!" He answered tenderly. We started fully making out and I could feel his rock-hard cock pressed against my stomach when the main door suddenly opened right in front of us. Timoth�e quickly broke the embrace. My hair was tousled, my face flushed, the surrounding of my mouth wet with my boyfriend's saliva and Tim was displaying an enormous erection. That is the sight my father caught when he opened the door. I could tell he was shocked, actually he was dazed. Dad's eyes rapidly scrutinised us both. I don't record ever seeing him being so embarrassed, he blushed and his face was bright red. "Hey Dad!" I eventually said, gathering my courage. "Uh... Hi Son, I... uh... I didn't know you were home." He answered, trying to explain his surprise clumsily. "Hi uh...?" He then said, turning to Timoth�e and offering him his hand to be shaken. "I'm Timoth�e, Sir." My boyfriend answered. He was paler than snow and I had the impression he was about to faint. "Oh! Yeah... Of course, the Rugby player!" Dad said, pretty much stating the obvious since Tim was wearing his full rugby outfit. "Well good luck for tomorrow's match!" He added as I sensed he was getting over his first sight embarrassment. Tim smiled back at him and grabbed his helmet. "Oh, that scooter is yours?" Dad then asked. "Yes Sir, I should get going since I have training tonight." My boyfriend explained, still very much unsettled. "Good luck Tim, I'll see you tomorrow!" I told him with a faint smile. "Bye Henri. Nice to meet you, Sir." He softly said before storming out of the house. Dad closed the door behind him and ruffled my hair. "He seems like a nice boy!" He eventually concluded, smiling at me before kissing my forehead. "But please promise me you will never ride that scooter, or anyone's for that matter!" He added with a stern look. "Yes, Dad." I answered, chuckling. He gave me a look and insistently stared at me. "I swear!" I then added. "Now go tell your brother to get ready for his swimming practice because we are having dinner before he goes." I nodded and hurriedly went upstairs to George's bedroom. I knocked and waited for my brother to allow me to walk in. He was wearing his sweatpants and was otherwise shirtless. "What's up Baby Henri." He asked casually. "Dad wants you to get ready for swimming practice because we are going to have dinner soon." I explained. He seemed unphased and nodded. "Is that all?" He inquired with a fake haughty tone. "Yes, Sir!" I played along with an amused smile. "Good!" He concluded while gesturing for me to leave. "Oh, before you go." He added throwing me a pair of boxer briefs that were lying on the floor. "Can you put that in the laundry basket?" He instructed. I caught them in the air with a disapproving look. But then my expression changed when I realised the underwear was covered in a wet and sticky white substance. I considered throwing them back to my brother, but I didn't. I played dumb and simply nodded, trying not to act suspicious and just walked out of his room as if nothing happened. Hesitantly, I started walking. I stopped in front of the laundry room, my respiration was heavy, my heart was beating fast. Then, I started walking away from the laundry room's door and went to my bedroom instead, his briefs still firmly clenched in my hand. I opened my door, my fists clinging on the cum-covered briefs and immediately walked into my bedroom. I leaned on the door and sighed. I brought the underwear to my nose and started feeling lightheaded. I was mostly lost, confused, disoriented. The briefs smelled familiar, I could definitely tell my brother's scent, but it was still somehow different. This particular scent I had never smelled on him. My head was dizzy, and my temple was beating furiously. I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out to taste it. It was still somehow warm. I knew how taboo this all was, I felt ashamed beyond measure, I felt like a freak, but I kept doing it. I kept lapping my brother's cum from his dirty underwear. I hadn't come to his room to steal them; he gave them to me. I reached for my cock and took it out of my jeans. With my right hand I was pressing George's grey cum-covered briefs against my nose and mouth and with my left hand I was furiously beating off. I came in no time and jizzed like a racehorse all over the hardwood floor. My vision was blurry, and I slid down the door until I sat on the floor. I tossed the briefs aside and cried like a baby, cursing myself for being such a pervert. I would never be able to look George in the eye again, I thought. _______________________________ You can already get the full book here : https://www.mybestseller.co.uk/site/userwebsite/index/id/v.dehabsbourg The book exist in E-book and Printed version, go and get it! For any question please reach me on this e-mail : [email protected] And follow us on Instagram : https://www.instagram.com/habsbourg.publications/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/brotherly-games/brotherly-games-3	Date: Fri, 26 Apr 2024 21:49:19 +0000 From: Valentin De Habsbourg Subject: Brotherly Games // 3rd Chapter Hey there! Please do not forget to make a donation to Nifty for the amazing platform they provide for both readers and writers. If you wish to contact me, you may do so by E-mail: [email protected] Or follow me on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/habsbourg.publications/ I would also like to thank Max Potter for taking his time collaborating with me on this book. You can read his stories on: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#maxpotter Chapitre 3 When I woke up the next day, Saturday morning, I was feeling slightly nauseous and groggy. It was already late, around 10am, so I quickly showered and dressed for the day to begin. I went downstairs to have breakfast and Dad was there. He was reading a book in the living room and smiled at me when he noticed I finally awoke. "Morning champion!" Dad said, closing his book and gently tossing it on the coffee table. "Hi Dad!" I answered, forcing a shy smile. "Isn't Mom here?" I inquired. "No, it's just you and I today." He announced as I began plunging my spoon in the cereal bowl I just prepared in the kitchen. "Do you have anything planned?" He questioned while rubbing my back with the palm of his hand. "I need to go to Timoth�e's match tonight but apart from that no I don't think so." I managed to answer with a mouthful of milk and cereals. "Well, as a matter of fact I have some spare time today, and I was thinking we could, you know, go downtown together and get you some swimming gear?" Dad joyfully proposed. "I still have quite some time before I start my training Dad!" I retorted unenthusiastically. I was still clearly not thrilled about the swimming lessons my brother was forcing me to take. "Oh, I see. Yeah... I suppose you're right. I guess it would be better for you to go with George anyway." Dad mumbled with a sad tone that broke my heart. I could tell he wanted to be the one to take me shopping for my gear. He seemed so happy that I was finally taking interest in sport, even though I really wasn't. I couldn't decently take that away from him. "I mean, I would really like to go with you!" I pleaded, mostly out of guilt. "But you know, you work so much, I just thought you would like to rest instead. I don't want to inconvenience you during your day off!" I explained. Dad's smile grew wide and he seemed ecstatic. Phew, I should get an Oscar for best actor really! But at least it worked, and Dad bought my little `son of the year' tirade. "You are so sweet Henri! Do not worry though, I really wanted to take you downtown today!" He declared tenderly. "And then we can have lunch somewhere if you like." He proposed. Okay, who are you and what have you done with my father? I don't even recall the last time he suggested to take me out, so I was actually getting excited. I quickly finished my breakfast and went back to my room to get ready to go out. We took the car and drove to `Jeanne d'Arc' where we parked. Our first stop was the `Intersport' shop. Dad was in a great mood. He never was the most caring father to George, but he took enough interest in his swimming to know what I needed. I, on the other hand, was ignorant. Each time Dad picked something from the shelves I gave him an interrogative look and he would briefly explain what purpose they served. Once he filled our cart with all kind of brand-new torture devices, we headed to the speedo section. I was not ashamed of my body, not in any way. But the prospect of wearing a tiny speedo in front of a whole audience including classmates, friends and family was truly dreadful. Oh my god, I was becoming modest by the minute just looking at them on the shelf. And Dad was just scrutinizing me as I was making my decision. My face was flushed and I kind of wanted to run away from the store and hide, so I picked a plain black speedo of my size and thought we'd be done with it, but my father protested. "Wait! I think it's best if you have more than one. You can pick a few actually, I think your brother has at least five or six." Dad pointed out. He picked a bright white and blue speedo that was far more revealing than the one I already had in the cart. I frowned and gave him a look. "Dad! Look at these, they are far too... you know... inappropriate." I complained. He laughed and looked at me condescendingly. "Henri! You have no reason to be prudish, you are a handsome teenager. Besides, I'm sure you won't need to ask twice for your boyfriend to come to the races if you were these!" He exclaimed with a chuckle. "Dad!" I lamented. My face flushed; I was embarrassed beyond measure. He took more colourful and revealing speedos and threw them in the cart. I was truly mortified, but my father was having a blast. "Ok, I think we are good! Let's go to the fitting room now!" He eventually said. I reluctantly followed him, he gave me the speedos and I pulled the curtains to have some privacy. I looked at my reflexion in the mirror as I undressed. Being naked in a public place kind of aroused me and I could feel my dick chubing up. I looked for the black speedo I picked but I couldn't find it. I tried a white and red instead, it was incredibly revealing, and the outline of my dick was clearly visible, even more now since I was half hard. However, the size was right. It was just meant to be that indecent. Out of the blue, I started picturing George wearing one of these. He was clearly not ashamed of his body, quite the contrary, and why would he? My cock was now getting fully hard and I felt sick to the stomach that such thoughts would cross my mind. "So? How is it?" Dad asked from the other side of the curtain. "Good, that's the right size!" I quickly answered. "Come out and show me!" He asked insistently. That was out of the question, I would get arrested for indecent exposure the moment I would get out of this fitting room! "Uh... No, that's fine really." I declined shyly, unable to explain why I wouldn't go out. Dad was having none of it, he pulled the curtain and walked in the fitting room. "Dad!" I complained loudly, blushing. "Oh, I see!" He laughed, catching a glimpse of my stretched bulge before I covered it with my hands. "Well, at least you like it!" Dad added before bursting into laugher. I was truly mortified and my face was a nice shade of crimson now. "Well, get changed I'll wait for you at the checkout." He then told me. "How many do we purchase?" I wondered. "All of them." He declared before walking out. Initially I was nervous but then Dad managed to make it sound like it was no big deal. I was still conflicted about the speedos but I think I liked them deep down. I shot one last glance at my reflexion in the mirror. Dad was right, Timoth�e would most likely be willing to come to my competitions if I were wearing them. They made me look kind of slutty. I took it off and quickly got dressed. After Dad paid, we walked out of the store and I thanked him profusely for coming with me and paying for everything. It was almost noon, and therefore we walked to the Capitole Square and ate at the `Bibent' restaurant. My father and I had a great time. He was a fun and easy-going person to be around. After lunch we had a walk and enjoyed the sunny afternoon downtown. We went back home around 4pm and Mom was there too. I showed her all the gear Dad bought me and she had the kindness to pretend that she cared even though I knew she had no interest in sport whatsoever. Jean-Baptiste arrived at 6pm at my house and I showed him my new speedos. We joked together about how revealing they would be. I told him about the fitting room incident, and we laughed some more. Soon enough, it was time for us to head to the Stadium for the rugby match. Throughout the afternoon, George was nowhere to be seen. He must have been wandering around somewhere downtown with some friend, or maybe with a girl. That last thought made me cringe. I was somehow relieved that I didn't bump into him after what happened. The Rugby match was a triumphant victory for Timoth�e and his team. I was ecstatic, this was my first match and I was having the time of my life. The general overexcitement got me in the mood. Timoth�e was a beast on the field. Gosh, this boy's got sex-appeal; he was focusing on nothing but the game. I couldn't help but admire his muscled body, his aggressiveness as a player, his natural charisma and overall manliness. I was beaming with pride and, quite frankly, watching him play strengthened my determination to give him whatever he wanted. And yes, I mean sex. After the match, Timoth�e proposed to grab a beer with his team. Really, he meant a great deal of many beers. Jean-Baptiste wasn't really a party animal, so he only stayed for a few drinks and took off. Now I was stuck with a bunch of drunken rugby men (I know, wet dream becoming reality), but Tim made me feel safe. At this point, the whole high school already knew I was dating him, thanks to my brother's magic punch. I was feeling like Princess Peach from Mario surrounded by Bowser's buddies, they were so hunky, and I was so... average. They were super fun to be around though and I was having a great time. I was not able to follow their beer consumption pace, but I sure tried, and therefore at some point I was shitfaced, like for real. I'm sure it must have been a quite pathetic sight, but Tim was keeping his composure, he was taller and stronger, and obviously more used to drinking than I was. I was getting more and more aroused, helped by my drunken state, and became very tactile. "Let's go home baby!" Tim suggested around midnight. "Already? But we are having so much fun!" I answered with difficulty. I was feeling so hot and my head was spinning, but I didn't have so much fun since... Well, I don't know, I'm only fifteen after all. "I'm a bit tired, and I wanted to spend some time with you before going to sleep!" He said with a smirk. "Oooh! You go Tim! Go get some!" One of his teammates shouted before everyone joined cheering him up and teasing him. If I were in a normal condition, I probably would have been a little uncomfortable that our sex life was displayed with so little modesty, but I wasn't. I eagerly followed Tim with a shit eating smirk and, despite my father's command, jumped behind him on the scooter. My intoxicated state helped me relax, but I was still nervous about riding a scooter. However, I trusted my boyfriend. I wrapped my arms around his stomach and firmly held on him. Who knew how beautiful Toulouse could be at night on a tiny scooter? The ride was short, and barely fifteen minutes later Tim parked his scooter in his building's underground garage. He couldn't keep his hands off me in the elevator. He kissed my neck, my hair, my cheeks, but avoided my lips. Perhaps my breath smelled too much like alcohol, I thought. He held me in his arms and caressed my lower back and my butt. When we exited the elevator, he took his apartment-keys out of his pocket. He gestured to me to be silent and himself avoided any noise. His sister and parents must have been fast asleep. They probably had no idea I would be sleeping at their place; I felt a little shameful thinking about seeing them the next morning and risking them getting mad at me, especially since they haven't even met me yet. The drunken boyfriend that secretly sleeps in their house uninvited. Tim led me to his bedroom walking on tip toes and I followed him up the stairs, doing my very best to keep my balance and being discreet. I guess I managed since we reached the bedroom without being intercepted, we even heard Tim's stepdad snore when we passed by his parents' room. My boyfriend closed the door behind him and undressed in no time. He then helped me and almost ripped my sweatshirt open before roughly pulling my jeans and briefs down to my ankles. He supported me while I stepped out of them, and finally I stood buck naked in front of him. Tim displayed a satisfied grin as he scrutinised my body. He lifted me from the floor, his arm just under my butt, and took me to his bed. I liked when he displayed his strength and, somehow, the fact that he could overpower me so easily was more turning me on than intimidating me. I guess that, despite his roughness, I trusted him and felt safe around him. He laid me on my back and came on top of me. Tim's wet kisses on my neck quickly turned into licking, his tongue browsed my jawline and playfully bit my ears the way I did with his a few days earlier. I was still feeling tipsy but also terribly horny. I dug my fingertips in his shoulders as he drove me crazy with his tongue, his hot breath on my wet skin making me shiver. In a bold move, I pushed him aside and climbed on top of him. I placed his rock-hard cock against my ass and humped him, making his large shaft slid between my crack. I felt his manhood rubbing against my tight virgin hole and I moaned louder than I meant to. Tim placed his hand on my mouth to silence me and chuckled slightly. I blushed thinking about his parents overhearing us, but my cock was still fully erect. I leaned on him and plunged my tongue in his mouth. I bit his lower lip as my cock stabbed his developed abs. I wanted to give him as much pleasure as he was giving me, I wanted to surrender myself fully to him, I wanted him to own me. I dropped one last tender kiss on his lips and then slowly made my way to his crotch, licking and kissing his jaw, neck, nipples, and abs along the way. I grabbed his cock and aimed it at my mouth before swallowing half of it. His cockhead was painfully stretching the entrance of my throat and making me gag. I sucked and blew him as fast as I could, and Tim was covering his own mouth to suppress his groans. I fondled his ball-sack and suddenly I wanted to have them both in my mouth. They were massive, but I sure tried. I smelled the manly scent emanating from them and it drove me crazy with lust. Tim showered after his match earlier, but I could still recognise my boyfriend's body odour, I loved it, he was mine. I licked his balls one by one and Tim ruffled my hair to encourage me. I took his hand and kissed the palm before resuming my ball-licking. I swallowed one whole and held it in my mouth, scrutinising Timoth�e's reaction. I was fairly new to sex, but eager to learn. He seemed to enjoy the treatment, so I tried to fit the other one in my mouth. They were big, really, they were far bigger than mine. After several attempts, I gave up and put his dick back in my mouth. He gently pressed my head for me to keep going further. I tried to deepthroat him, but I was gagging and making too much noise to his taste. He pulled me off his cock and straightened up. His hand still grabbing a fistful of my hair, he kissed me, and we made out frantically. Tim was so passionate when he kissed my mouth, I was out of breath quickly. He broke the kiss and smiled at me tenderly. His hand reached for my cock and I felt a jolt of pleasure as his fingertips touched my hard shaft. His other hand covered my mouth to smother my moans. I was shaking, Timoth�e was driving me crazy. I wanted to please him, but he decided otherwise, he would be the one to give me pleasure now, and I had no say in the matter. I loved it. He wanked me, slowly first but increasing his pace steadily. He moved closer to me until his chest was pressed against mine. His hand was the only layer separating our two mouths, his eyes staring at mine. Fuck, I loved him. I grabbed his hand and took it off my mouth. "I love you." I murmured to him. He smirked at me and his eyes were still locked on mine. He brought two of his fingers to my mouth and I licked them. I knew what he had in mind, so I wetted them meticulously. He took his fingers off my mouth and replaced them with his lips while his hand went behind my back, down to my butt. We made out as one of his hands was wanking my cock and the other was searching for my tight hole. He eventually found it and rubbed his lubricated fingers against my hole. Gently, he pressed it and made it slide in. I had a burst of surprise when his index penetrated me and my eyes grew wide. I was getting dangerously close; my body was jolting, and I was sweating. Tim increased his pace, both wanking my cock and finger-fucking my hole. He pushed a second finger inside of me and I was instantly sent over the edge. My whole body spasmed and my cock erupted in his hand. I send ropes of cum directly on his stomach, dripping on his crotch and on his thighs. I tried my best to suppress my moans, but I was still louder than I should have. Tim didn't mind and he was displaying a triumphant smile. "Please fuck me." I begged, catching up my breath. Timoth�e chuckled and gave me an amazed look. "No, baby, you won't enjoy it as much now that you came." He told me. "Besides, you are a little drunk. You should sleep!" He added with a tender smile. "But, you haven't cum!" I protested, louder than planned. "Quiet baby!" He pleaded with a worried face. "That's okay, I had a great time, trust me. Did you like it?" He asked with a concerned expression. I leaned and placed my mouth millimetres from his left ear. "Yes, I did. That's why you are going to let your boyfriend thank you the way he knows best!" I whispered authoritatively. Timoth�e turned to face me and smirked widely. He put his hand behind his head and fell back on the mattress, lying on his back expectantly. First things first, I began lapping my own cum from his stomach. It tasted salty, but less strong than George's cum. What the fuck did I just think? Oh my god, I was a lost cause. I chased the thought from my head and refocused on my boyfriend, the only man I was allowed to say such things about. Dutifully, I cleaned his stomach, and then his thighs. I then proceeded to clean up his cock from my cum. I browsed my tongue along the thick shaft, and when I was pleased enough with the result, I resumed sucking his dick. This time, I took my time. I rolled my tongue around his cockhead and inside his urethra. I nursed the tip like a bottle, for I wanted milk! My hands were wanking the base and caressing his balls. I relaxed my jaw and swallowed half of his dick until his cock was reaching the back of my throat, then I slowly pushed further and managed to get his head in my throat. I couldn't breathe anymore but I didn't panic and went down on his cock. Slowly, I reached the bottom and my nose was pressing against his pubes. I was running out of air, so I pulled back and took a deep breath. Timoth�e was glancing at me, he was amazed. I made it; I swallowed his whole meat! I smiled like an idiot and went back to work on his dick. I wanted to make him proud to have me in his life. I wanted to prove I was worthy of being such a man's boyfriend. Fuck! I wanted him to fuck me senseless. I sucked his cock and my eagerness must have exhilarated him for he was having more and more difficulties to suppress his groans. After ten minutes of this treatment, I increased my pace and felt that Tim was about to cum. I looked at him dead in the eye and eventually he noticed and locked his eyes on mine too. His face was twisted by pleasure and suddenly, my palate was plastered with cum. My boyfriend shot a huge quantity and I dutifully swallowed it all. I kept sucking until he grabbed my hair and pulled me off his cock. I smiled at him and crawled to his side on the bed. He opened his left arm and I snuggled against his upper chest as he kissed my hair. I was not as drunk anymore, but I was exhausted. I fell asleep in no time, safe and sound in my boyfriend's arms. The next morning, when I woke up, Timoth�e was spooning me and kissing my neck. His hand was caressing my stomach and I stirred slightly. "Good morning baby!" He whispered in my ear. I grunted as sole response and turned my face to encourage him to kiss my pretty lips. He got the message and obliged. I supposed my hangover breath wasn't the most pleasant, so I gave him shy pecks and smiled. "My head is going to explode!" I lamented with a hoarse voice. He giggled and got off the bed. He slipped in some black briefs and I admired his half naked body in total awe. "I'm going to grab you a Doliprane." He announced with a teasing smirk. I straightened up and sat on the edge of the bed. Then I wrapped my hands around his back and pulled him closer. "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you yesterday baby, I'm not used to drinking that much!" I apologised before kissing his abs tenderly. "What on earth are you talking about?" He inquired with a chuckle. "You know what? Why don't you get dressed so we can have breakfast downstairs?" He suggested. I nodded, not entirely convinced that I didn't make a poor impression on his teammates, and nervous about meeting his family so hungover. I stood up and got dressed in my previous evening clothes that smelled like cigarettes and alcohol. I was so fucking ashamed! I understood why Tim didn't want to take the risk of bringing me back to my place last night, intoxicated and riding a scooter furthermore. My parents would certainly not have been amused. I asked Tim to borrow one of his jumpers to put over my sweatshirt and smother the cigarette smell. I rinsed my face in the bathroom and fixed my hair. When I reached what I deemed to be an acceptable level of appropriateness for a Sunday morning I exited the bathroom and Tim scrutinised me. "You look like the perfect son in law, Babe!" He said before laughing. I gave him a look and he laughed some more. "Stop it! Asshole!" I shot back half-jokingly. He gestured for me to follow him and we both went downstairs. When we walked in the kitchen, everyone was already sitting around the dining table. Tim's mom, stepdad, and sister. "Oh my god! Is that Henri the Great?" Tim's sister exclaimed dramatically. "Lou! I already told you not to call him like that!" Their mother scolded. "You know your brother wants us to call him `Henri the Magnificent'!" She added before everyone around the table started giggling frantically. "Henri the Terrible!" The stepdad eventually added, intensifying their laugher to the point they were almost crying. Well, that was embarrassing. And I thought Tim's encounters with my parents were weird, this was something else. His face flushed, and he looked genuinely sorry. "Don't pay attention to us Henri! It's just that Timy wouldn't shut up about you for the past two months now!" His mother explained, slowly regaining her composure, and drying up her tears. "Mom!" Tim lamented. We both sat along the table and had a copious breakfast. Tim's family was great, they were all super kind and laid back. Teasing was the national sport in this home, they all made fun of one another at some point. Tim kept shooting me anxious glances periodically, but I was having a blast. I wish my family were like this instead of being so uptight. After being presented with a best-of of my boyfriend's most embarrassing life anecdotes by his whole family, in front of an abashed Tim, I announced I had to go back to my house. Tim's parents wanted me to stay for lunch, but I was still rather hungover and had no intention to puke all over their dining table. Anyway, it would probably give Tim a chance to put some lotion on, after being roasted for two straight hours. "I will drive you to your place Baby!" Tim proposed. "No, don't worry, I will take the subway." I declined with a smile. He nodded defeatedly and brought me back to the main door. He was uncommonly silent and seemed a bit down. I stood on tiptoes and kissed him tenderly on the lips. "Thank you so much for last night. I really loved it!" I said softly. "I love you Henri!" He answered before wrapping his arms around my back and holding me tight against him. He kissed my forehead and I let out a deep sigh, feeling safe and secured. "I'm sorry about my family" He then added with a concerned expression. I chuckled and Tim shot a confused glance at me. "Well, you know my brother, I can't really say shit about your family!" I shot back, trying to cheer him up. "True!" He conceded with a laugher. "When am I seeing your cute face again?" I asked sheepishly as Tim broke the embrace. "Wednesday, at Vianney's Halloween party." He answered. I frowned and gave him a look. "I mean, you are coming with me, right?" He anxiously added. "Baby! After what he did?" I exclaimed, irritated that he was actually considering it. "I don't know, your brother is the one who would have the best reason to hate him and he is still coming!" Tim told me, trying to convince me but instead fuelling my anger. "Uh? My brother is the one who's been the most wronged according to you?" I snapped. "As far as I remember it was me who's been outed and exposed to a family member!" "Baby, I..." Tim began. "I'm not coming, period." I concluded authoritatively. My boyfriend was looking back at me with pleading eyes but didn't argue further. I sighed and closed my eyes, I hated being a drama queen, but I had to stand firm from time to time. If Vianney wanted me to forgive him he would have to be a man enough to apologise. Still, I had an amazing time with Tim the previous evening, and I had no intention to ruin it. I guess I also wanted to keep my mind off what happened with my brother on Friday night. I was desperate to get rid of every inappropriate thought when it came to George, and Tim made that possible, to an extent. I opened my eyes and my boyfriend was still staring at me, looking like a kid that had just been scolded. I grabbed his flank and pulled him to me, I leaned and kissed him all over the neck and jawline. "I love you Tim." I declared softly. "I can't wait for you to take my cherry!" I boldly confessed. Tim's eyes widened and a large grin spread on his face. "You should go, before I fuck your ass here and now!" He jokingly threatened. I chuckled and kissed his lips one more time before leaving. It was almost noon when I arrived home. Lunch was almost ready, but I desperately needed to shower and get changed. I fucking stank! I threw my cigarette-smelling clothes in the hamper and grabbed a clean towel before getting in the shower. It felt so nice, the warm water eliminating all the incriminating evidence of unreasonable behaviour. My parents were not strict per se, but getting shit-faced, considering I was only 15 years old, was a big fucking no. Also, weirdly, this time I wasn't just worried about what my parents would think. George had been taking some initiatives recently, and he hated my boyfriend's guts. I had no intention to give him more reasons to blame him for `perverting' me and putting me in dangerous situations. I chuckled like an idiot, alone in the shower, thinking about that; George playing the big brother concerned about my safety, even though he barely acknowledged my existence a few weeks earlier. And yet, what have I done to stop him? Yeah, nothing at all, I was such an idiot... Showered, teeth brushed, and clothes changed I went back upstairs just in time for lunch to be served. My parents and my brother were already sitting around the table and I took place beside my brother. Mom had prepared us duck breast with apple chutney and caramelised onions. I don't know if that was because I was hungover, but I thought it was delicious beyond measure. I was smiling and moaning the whole lunch through, and everyone shot me judgmental glances from time to time, to say I didn't give a shit would be an understatement. "Henri, honey, I washed your new speedos yesterday, they are folded in the laundry room." Mom declared casually as we finished our Tarte Tatin. My brother frowned and shot confused stares at mom and me. "You have been shopping for Speedos, uh?" George asked me with a smirk. "I knew you were as excited as I am for your training to begin!" He pointed out sarcastically, even though my parents wouldn't pick the sarcastic part, of course. "Oh yeah! I took him yesterday!" Dad explained with a wide smile. "Henri, why don't you show your new coach what we bought!" He added enthusiastically. "Sure!" I accepted, displaying my most convincing fake smile. George followed me upstairs and forestalled me in the laundry room to grab my speedos. He then took them to my bedroom and closed the door after me with an evil smirk. Great, what other devilish plan had he came up with this time? "Where's the rest of your gears?" George asked. I opened my drawer and threw everything dad bought me over my bed. My brother sat on the edge of the bed and started gauging them. "George, I..." I began saying. "Why don't you call me `coach' instead, I like it. You never called me any nicknames!" He interrupted me with a grin. "Well, I was probably trying not to end up with a black eye!" I pointed out, chuckling. George frowned and got up. He stood right in front of me and looked at me dead in the eye with a stern face. "I never meant to punch you in the first place, and you know it!" My brother said defensively. "I don't care that half the school believes that I'm the kind of asshole that would do that. However, you, my own brother, thinking I would do such a thing, it's seriously fucked up." "I'm sorry George, I was just joking." I apologised with a soft tone after a moment of silence during which my brother never broke the intense stare he was giving me. "No you were not." He answered with a serious tone. "George, that's not what I think of you at all." I reassured him with a barely audible whisper. "Really? Then why are you pressed against the wall like a cornered prey?" He pointed out, making me realise I had backed off from him. Then, someone knocked at the bedroom door, getting me out of my stupor. "Yes?" I answered with a low pitch voice before clearing up my throat. The door opened and Dad walked in the room. "So, George, what do you think about your brother's gear?" He inquired joyfully. "Maybe he'll need better swimming goggles once he starts the competitions, but I guess they'll do the trick for the training." George casually declared. "I'm sure that will be enough for learning the basics!" He added before shooting me a mocking glance. "Well, with a coach like you I'm not really worried!" Dad said with a smile. "Thanks dad!" My brother answered with a wide smile. I could tell he was proud and that he wasn't faking it. Our father gave him so little credit and encouragement, he obviously treasured it when it happened. Later in the afternoon, our parents announced my brother and I that they would go back to Japan for the week, in order to finish their aborted business trip. I was a little anxious to be left alone with George to be frank. So much had changed since he punched me at school. What frightened me the most was the possibility that everything went back to normal since George wouldn't have any reason to play pretend in front of the parents. I'm not sure I could bear to be ignored by my brother any longer, not since he gave me a taste of what his care could feel like. George seemed unphased by their upcoming departure, it was very much business as usual after all. They were more often away than not in the first place. "Henri, with your father we were wondering; do you think Timoth�e would be available for dinner tonight or lunch tomorrow?" Mom inquired with a shy tone. "It's just, you know, we would be reassured if we met him before we leave." She specified. George raised his eyebrow and his eyes grew wide. He shook his head disapprovingly but kept silent. "I can ask him if you want." I submissively answered. I shot an anxious glance at George, but he avoided eye contact. Fuck it, I had every right to present my boyfriend to my family anyway! George would get over it, I don't remember ever having a word to say in any of his girlfriend choices in the past either. And god knows I hated them with passion. I went back to my bedroom and immediately texted Tim to know if he was up to it. He thought I was pranking him at first, and he asked if George would be here, which made me chuckle I must say, but eventually accepted to be there for lunch tomorrow. I announced Mom and she immediately asked me for a list of his allergies and dislikes. After several back and forth texts with Tim I told her anything she needed to know and went back to my bedroom. During dinner George announced that he wouldn't be here for lunch because he had to work on a school project with our classmates. Dad laughed condescendingly and kindly reminded him that this was a holiday week and that he'd had plenty of time to work on his project. Request denied. He was fuming but knew there was no point in arguing. After dinner we watched some television together with our parents and George. After a while though, our parents went back upstairs to pack for their trip and get a good rest. I prepared myself some tea before walking back upstairs in my bedroom and call it a day. When I walked past the living room though, my brother was playing some video games. I hesitated for a few seconds and eventually I decided to sit on the couch next to him. I liked watching him play video games, it was somehow relaxing me. It was like watching a movie, but he was the hero. I peacefully sipped on my tea, with a comfy blanket over me, enjoying Sunday night's mood. "You want to play?" George eventually asked me after he died in the game. I was a bit startled as my brother never allowed me to use his PS4 before. "No, I like watching you better." I stated, matter-of-factly. "Whatever." He chuckled, amused by my answer. We were quite different in that matter. My brother was a natural leader, charismatic and self-confident, and I was more comfortable being a follower. George and I stayed up rather late actually, therefore, when I woke up the next morning, it was already 10am. As usual, I showered, brushed my teeth, got dressed and went downstairs. "Too late for breakfast!" Mom warned with a smirk. "The kitchen is busy now." She added. She was already preparing lunch and when I saw the kitchen I gasped in shock. Mom definitely had a habit of being over the top, but this was reaching a whole different level now. There was enough food for at least ten people. I wasn't going to complain though since she prepared my favourite meal. "Can I help you?" I offered enthusiastically, I liked to cook, and Mom was a real chef. "Actually, you can!" She chuckled. "Can you wake your brother up? It's almost 11am for goodness sake!" "Uh... yeah, ok." I shyly answered before going back upstairs. I gently knocked on George's door, but nothing happened. After a few seconds I opened the door and slowly walked in his bedroom. The whole room was impregnated with my brother's scent. There was no doubt that a teenager had slept in here, but I honestly didn't mind. I sat on the edge of his bed and took a moment to observe my sleeping brother. He looked so peaceful, so serene, so bloody handsome too! I delicately put my hand on his shoulder and shook it slightly. "George?" I called softly. "George, it's time to wake up!" I whispered. He groaned, disgruntled, and stirred. His sleepy eyes opened slowly and met mine. I smiled tenderly at him and he stretched loudly. "What's up, Baby Henri?" He asked with a hoarse voice. "You want me to be ready for your loser of a boyfriend's arrival?" He added with a smirk. "What must I do for you to like him?" I asked with a faint smile. "Just dump his ass already." He shot back playfully. I rolled my eyes and was about to stand up, but he grabbed my hand. "You won't even give me a morning kiss?" He pleaded with a fake sad voice. I sighed, pretending I was irritated, which both George and I knew wasn't the case, and leaned to kiss his right cheek. He roughly pulled my arm and made me fall over him. He flipped me over and was now on top of me. George kissed me all over the face, on my cheeks, forehead, nose, and jawline while tickling me. Because of the tickling, I laughed and fought to get him off me, but he was much stronger. "You smell so nice!" He commented after sniffing my neck. "And you stink!" I shot back playfully. He kissed me one more time on the nose and slipped out of bed. I got up too and his eyes immediately went down on my crotch. My cock was rock-hard and indecently bulging my jeans. "See, you don't even need a boyfriend anyway!" He sneered. I rushed outside of his bedroom, ashamed and confused, my heart beating fast and my stomach knotted. "Hey baby!" Timoth�e greeted me as I opened the main door. It was noon, and my boyfriend was right on time. I displayed a broad smile and we kissed. I brought him to the living room where my parents greeted him warmly, and my brother greeted him not so warmly. Lunch went smoothly. My parents harassed Tim with questions, but he managed to answer every single one of them without too much difficulty. George was mostly silent and at least I guess I was happy he wasn't too obvious about his irritation. Overall, it was a great success. We had leftovers of my favourite meals for tonight too! What more could I ask for? After lunch we settled in the couches and had some coffee until it was time for my parents to leave for the airport. George went back upstairs to his room and I stayed in the living room with Tim. "How was it?" I inquired anxiously. "Great! Your parents are really nice!" Tim declared with a smile. "And your brother was nicer than usual." He added with a laugher. "Sorry." I lamented with a deep sigh. "He is still mad at you about the sextape." I explained. "Well, I understand, really." Tim answered. "I just don't know what to do to make things better." "Maybe you should apologise?" I suggested shyly, not wanting to start another argument. Tim looked back at me with a baffled expression. "You think so?" He wondered, looking a bit anxious. "Uh... you don't have to. But maybe he would appreciate it?" I continued, knowing quite well that George would love the power trip of Timoth�e apologising. Still, I also knew that my brother didn't hate Tim just because of the sextape, but also for the mere fact of being my boyfriend. "Now?" Tim asked with a hint of warry in his voice. "I mean, why not? I can walk you to his bedroom and I'll stay outside." I said with a timid voice. Reluctantly, Tim followed me upstairs and we stopped in front of my brother's bedroom. I stood on the side so I wouldn't be seen from inside and encouraged Tim to knock. "What?" George answered from the other side. Tim sighed and opened the door. "Hey dude." Timoth�e said nervously. "Something's wrong with Henri?" My brother inquired suspiciously. "No, no, everything's fine." Tim promptly answered. "Listen, about what happened last week. I wanted to apologise. I understand why you reacted the way you did, I fucked up." He apologised. "Henri asked you to apologise?" George questioned. "Yes." Tim confessed after a long silence. Shit, he should have lied! "Tim, I have nothing against you. But I swear to god that if you ever disrespect my brother again..." My brother threatened. "I won't. I swear." Timoth�e promised. "Fine." George said. "I'll join you guys downstair in a few." He concluded. Several seconds later, my boyfriend walked out of his room and closed the door behind him. I smiled like an idiot and as soon as the door closed, I kissed him tenderly. I was so happy this drama was eventually coming to an end. "Thank you so much baby!" I told Tim when we reached the living room. "That means so much to me!" We turned the television on and browsed through Netflix to find something to watch. We just launched a movie when George joined us downstairs. My brother sat next to me and I was between Timoth�e and George. I fell asleep somewhere during the movie and when I woke up, I was snuggled against Tim and he was caressing my hair. Not long before 8pm, Tim announced he had to go back home since his parents awaited him for dinner. I goofily got off him and rubbed my eyes after the sound nap I just had. "See you Wednesday I suppose?" George asked my boyfriend casually. "Uh... no, Henri wasn't really up to it." Tim answered shyly. "Oh, ok, well see you soon anyway." George simply said with a faint smile. I walked my boyfriend to the door, and I kissed him goodbye before giving him a short hug. "You are coming to Vianney's party Wednesday." My brother declared when I came back into the living room. "What? No, I'm not! He is an asshole!" I shot back angrily. "If you were that mad at Timoth�e you should be even more at Vianney!" I pointed out. George laughed and looked at me like I was an absolute idiot. I stared back at him with utter confusion. "Baby Henri, you are so sweet." He said condescendingly. "Now, if I remember well, you are supposed to obey me when the parents are travelling, right?" He asked. "Right?" He insisted after a moment of silence. "Yes." I admitted in a whisper. "Good, then text your stupid boyfriend that you changed your mind and that you're going to Vianney's party." My brother commanded calmly. I gulped and took my phone out of my pocket before obeying George and texting Tim. "Is it done?" George questioned. "Yes." I answered submissively. _______________________________ You can already get the full book here : https://www.mybestseller.co.uk/site/userwebsite/index/id/v.dehabsbourg The book exist in E-book and Printed version, go and get it! For any question please reach me on this e-mail : [email protected] And follow us on Instagram : https://www.instagram.com/habsbourg.publications/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/steve-becoming-a-scally-slave	Date: Thu, 17 Oct 2024 16:17:53 +0000 (UTC) From: SiskoinAK Subject: Steve becomes a scally slave chapter 1 Gay Authoritarian Chad, a horny 18-year-old Scally lad, loved to bully preppy lads like Steve. Chad was dressed in a Nike tracksuit, which was stained with piss and cum from his little brother. Steve, a 22-year-old preppy lad, was dressed in a polo shirt and khaki pants. "Hey, preppy boy," Chad sneered, grabbing Steve's collar. "You're coming home with me." Steve's heart raced as Chad dragged him to his council house. He had heard rumors about Chad and his little brother, but he never thought he would be their next victim. Chad shoved Steve into his bedroom and closed the door behind them. "Take off your clothes," Chad demanded. Steve hesitated, but Chad's glare made him strip down to his boxers. Chad laughed and tossed Steve a pair of his little brother's piss and cum-crusted boxers. "Put these on." Steve's face turned red as he put on the stained underwear. Chad then made him wear his little brother's tracksuit and smelly trainers, turning him into a scally lad. Chad pushed Steve onto the bed and climbed on top of him. Steve's heart pounded in his chest as Chad unbuttoned his tracksuit pants and pulled out his hard cock. "Please, don't," Steve whimpered, but Chad ignored him. He roughly grabbed Steve's head and forced his cock down his throat. Steve gagged and tears streamed down his face, but Chad didn't stop. Chad then flipped Steve over and pushed his legs apart. Steve's heart raced as Chad positioned his cock at his entrance. "Please, don't," Steve whimpered again, but Chad didn't listen. He thrust his hips forward and took Steve's virginity. Steve cried out in pain as Chad pounded into him. Chad didn't care; he just wanted to satisfy his kinky sexual needs. He grabbed Steve's hips and pulled him closer, making Steve take every inch of him. After what felt like an eternity, Chad finally came inside Steve. He pulled out and collapsed on the bed next to Steve, who was still sobbing. Chad's little brother then walked in and smirked at Steve. "Looks like you had fun with my big bro," he said, pulling down his pants and showing Steve his hard cock. Steve's eyes widened as Chad's little brother climbed onto the bed and pushed his cock inside him. Steve cried out in pain as the little brother pounded into him, but Chad just watched and laughed. "Welcome to the family, preppy boy," Chad said, lighting a cigarette. "You're one of us now." Steve couldn't believe what was happening. He had never felt so humiliated and violated in his life. But as Chad's little brother came inside him, Steve realized that he had no choice but to submit to their kinky sexual needs. And so, Steve became Chad and his little brother's personal Scally slut, serving their every sexual need. He hated every minute of it, but he couldn't escape. He was trapped in their world, and he would have to endure their kinky sexual desires for as long as they wanted him.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/brotherly-games/brotherly-games-1.html	Brotherly Games Chapter 1 Hey there! Please do not forget to make a donation to Nifty for the amazing platform they provide for both readers and writers. Thank you to all those who supported me throughout the writing of this serie. Brotherly Games is about to have a sequel called "Louis�; To know more about it, find us on https://habsbourg-publications.com/ If you wish to contact me, you may do so by E-mail: [email protected] Or follow me on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/habsbourg.publications/ I would also like to thank Max Potter for taking his time collaborating with me on this book. You can read his stories on: http://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#maxpotter Chapitre 1 As far as I remember, my older brother George always was kind of an asshole to me. Not the mean kind that will literally bully you or beat you, but even though he knew I adored him he pretty much always ignored me. At some point, however, you just roll with it. My brother and I were not close, period. I don't exactly know why I adored him; we were always so different from one another. Sure, he had some amazing qualities, he was very self-confident, determined and smart, he was a very talented swimmer that won countless championships he always knew what to say to get his way with others even when he majorly fucked up. George knew how to be persuasive; he was a very seductive young man, and he used his charm to get out of bad situations. But he also had some big flaws; he was manipulative, arrogant and careless with other people's feelings. To me he was even cruel, he always made a point of ignoring me, of shooting me glances full of contempt and mockery, of excluding me of his life altogether when I was asking nothing more than some kind of acknowledgement. In the end I just loved him despite his flaws because he was my brother. George was just punishing me. Our parents were almost never home, they were running a successful business and they thought parenting was only providing material comfort. When we were kids and I fucked up, George was often blamed for `not taking care of me' even though he was only one year older. Our parents were protective of me, and George felt neglected, therefore he came to resent me somehow. I know, it is hardly my fault my parents failed him, but here we are anyway. I am Henri De Montpensier, a 15-year-old French teenager living in Toulouse, Southwestern France. I've known I was gay since I was around 10 years old. I slowly came out to everyone during middle school, everyone except my brother and parents. To my classmates and friends this was absolutely no big deal, and soon enough the whole school must have known it but did not care. George and I were not attending the same middle school since he had a better opportunity for swimming in another establishment, but we ended up in the same high school. Actually, being the lazy ass and distracted student he is, George failed his first high school year and we even ended up in the same class. He set the tone from the very first day though by sitting the further away from me as he could. Great, my own brother was snubbing me in front of my friends, I thought, but I was expecting it anyway. Ozenne high school was a fairly big establishment with more than a thousand students, and my bad luck made me end up in the same fucking class as George. However, another classmate caught my attention; Timoth�e. Timoth�e was a smoking-hot teenager. Rugby player, tall, fit and athletic, he was also super friendly and funny. He sat next to me from the very first day and since that we became great friends. Friendship, however, was not really what he was after. By the end of September Timoth�e and I were flirting. And one night of October he invited me to his place when his parents were away. "You are a bit early" He pointed out with a smirk after opening the main door. "Come in!" "Thank you!" I answered shyly. "Yeah... I know, sorry I overestimated the time it would take for me to come." I explained while scratching the back of my head. "No problem!" Timoth�e reassured me. "I was about to go to the supermarket to get something to eat for tonight! Or maybe we can order something?" He proposed, flashing his pearly white teeth to me. "We can order in yes! That way you don't have to cook!" I approved with a faint smile. He pointed at the couch to invite me to sit and I immediately noticed the large collection of video games displayed by the television. "Oh my god! These are yours?" I exclaimed a little bit more enthusiastically than I wanted. Tim laughed and sat on the couch as well. "Yeah, my sister and my collection." He answered. "Well, you are lucky to have a sibling to share with!" I lamented. Timoth�e seemed surprised and raised his eyebrows. "Isn't George your twin brother or something?" He asked with genuine confusion. "He is my brother yes, not my twin though. But he would never share any of his belongings with me, not in a million years." I explained with a chuckle. "Well, that sucks!" Tim concluded. "Pizza?" He proposed while opening UberEats on his smartphone. "Sure!" I said while nodding. "So, what game would you like to play?" Timoth�e asked me while getting up to get the CD's. "Which one is your favourite?" I responded, not knowing any of the games he had. "Hmm... This one!" He eventually declared picking one. He turned his PS4 on and put the game in it. He grabbed two controllers and gave me one before sitting by me on the couch. "Uh... Well, I think you'll have to explain to me how to play because I don't know how to do shit really!" I laughed. "Oh sweet! I hope you're not a sore loser then!" He teased while getting closer to me. His hands touched mine as he explained the commands and I felt a shiver as his fingertips touched the back of my hand. His body heat next to me was turning me on and I know he felt the sexual tension growing up between us, but he didn't say anything. We started playing as expected, I kept humiliating myself by losing. I was feeling good though and we laughed and teased one another until our pizza eventually arrived. Gosh, Timoth�e was a savage when he ate! I knew Rugby men usually had quite the appetite, but this was something else. We played while we ate, really while I ate and while he devoured, and I was getting better at it. I won one round, almost, but I was getting tired of playing PS4. I think he felt it and he suggested we stop. I was honestly expecting to chat a little and go back home, but Timoth�e came closer to me on the couch and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. I had a direct sight on his hairy armpits and the manly scent emanating from it was driving me crazy with lust. I did my best to keep my composure though and repressed my need to jump on his lap. Timoth�e, on the other hand, was not trying to repress his urges and soon he became more and more tactile. Eventually, I could not hold it anymore. I looked at him dead in the eye and I leaned my face closer to his. My lips encountered his and my hand pressed the back of his head to pull him closer. His tongue entered my slightly agape mouth, and we started making out passionately. I could taste the hot pizza sauce on his lips, but I could not have cared less. I was lost in a trance and instinctively I climbed on his lap. His hands gripped my firm ass and caressed my jeans. I was moaning as Timoth�e was driving me fucking crazy. Suddenly, he stood up while his hand lifted me by the ass, and he carried me upstairs to his room. He slammed my body against the mattress, and I was lying on my back in front of him. Mesmerised by the sight of my partner taking his shirt off and exposing his muscled torso to me. He kept his shorts on and climbed on the bed. "Fuck! You are so sexy Henri!" He told me with lustful eyes. He peeled my T-shirt off my back and leaned his intimidating body over mine to kiss me again. My hands browsed his back and muscular ass. Expectantly my other hand reached for his bulge when suddenly I felt it. What the fuck! How big was this monster anyway? Tim caught my widening eyes and my dazzled expression and grinned widely. He straightened up and pulled down his shorts. His black briefs were obscenely stretched, and I was genuinely scared by the girth and length of it. I reached for it, and it was rock-hard. Curiosity took over and I pulled his underwear down to reveal an absolutely massive cock. I was about to say something, but I did not get the chance. Tim gripped my hair roughly and pressed his dick at the entrance of my mouth. I opened and he forced his cockhead inside of me. The taste was intoxicating, I eagerly sucked and rubbed my tongue around the head while Tim moaned and grunted. He pushed his dick further in my mouth and I gagged. He did not stop though and pressed my head further down until his cockhead slipped inside of my throat. I frantically tapped his thigh and he let go of my head. I backed off and caught up my breath, but he forced his cock back in my mouth. I was willing to please him, but I must admit he was savage. I felt like his personal fleshlight as I was going up and down on his fat dick. My gagging and choking noises seemed to exhilarate him. At some point Timoth�e yanked me off his dick and grabbed me by the shoulder to take me off the bed. He made me kneel on the floor, in front of him, and wanked his cock furiously. "Look at me!" He told me lustfully. I looked back submissively, and he grinned. He stopped wanking and searched for something in his shorts. He pulled out his smartphone and started filming, pointing the phone right it at me. He resumed jerking off as I leaned to lick his balls. His breath was becoming erratic, and he moaned louder. He grabbed me by the hair and forced me to look at the camera. "Suck my cock whore!" He commanded. I obeyed and meticulously I took care of his massive cock while I licked the tip of his dick. "Open wide fag!" He told me. His balls flexed and suddenly, a thick rope of cum splattered my face. And then another, and another. After the 6th or 7th rope of cum landing in either my mouth, cheeks, nose or even opened eyes, it stopped. "Oh my god you're so sexy baby!" He said. He ended the video and took a few pictures of my cum-covered face. "Did you like it?" He asked nervously. I pointed at my rock-hard dick and we both laughed. "Do you want me to take care of that?" He then proposed. I smiled mischievously and raised my eyebrows. "What do you suggest?" I asked playfully. He smiled back at me and unbuttoned my jeans. I pulled them down and he grabbed cock. With one of his fingers, he wiped the cum away from my face and spread his load all over his fingers before grabbing my dick and he started wanking it. The feeling was great, and I was pretty much in heaven already, but then he reached for my hole with his other hand, and he rubbed his fingertips around my smooth pucker, pressing against the entrance but never actually going inside. I rested my head against his shoulder, and I felt his warm breath on my ear and neck. "It feels so nice, please keep going!" I pleaded while he fastened his pace. It took me only a few minutes before reaching the edge and shoot my load all over his hairy thigh while moaning "Fuck, fuck! Oh fuck!" "I think we both need a shower." He announced with a smirk before kissing me. I nodded, still catching up my breath, and we headed to the bathroom. That night I slept at Timoth�e's place, and we cuddled all night. Occasionally he would kiss me in the middle of the night, and I would smile happily. When I woke up the next morning I was snuggled against his warm naked body. Tim was snoring slightly, and I took the chance to browse my hand over his muscles. At some point I was so turned on that I started caressing his cock and I felt it grow under my palm. Driven by lust, I leaned on his body and kissed my way from his abs to his quickly hardening dick. I opened my mouth and started sucking. I wanted Timoth�e to wake up to the feeling of the best blowjob ever. I dedicated the greatest care into sucking his cock and pleasing him. Timoth�e started moving and slowly woke up. His hand went through my hair and gently caressed my head, letting me manage the blowjob unlike the previous evening when he rough face-fucked me. Our eyes met and I stared at him submissively with a good length of his cock in my mouth. I took his cock out of my mouth and kissed his balls one after the other. Slowly, the kisses turned into licking, and eventually swallowing. He grabbed his cock and rubbed it all over my face while I took care of his big balls, spreading his scent all over my skin. I loved it and I decided to dare something else. I kissed his balls lower, and lower until I was kissing his scrotum, but I kept going lower and finally Timoth�e understood what I was after. He spread his muscled legs and exposed his slightly hairy hole. I pressed my mouth over his tight pucker and stuck out my tongue. I was in a trance, his scent was even manlier than the previous evening, his body odour was intoxicating beyond measure, and I was frantically lapping his hole like it was an ice cream. I penetrated him with my tongue and Timoth�e grunted loudly. "Babe! Keep going please, oh fuck you are so good!" He exclaimed while I rimmed his ass like a lunatic. He stroked his cock in the meantime, and I felt he was getting close. When his moaning betrayed his incoming orgasm, I pulled my face out from his butt-cheeks and resumed sucking his fat cock. A few minutes later, his warm cum shot directly in my mouth and flooded my throat. I could taste it right from the tap and I eagerly swallowed everything. When I was done swallowing, I opened my mouth wide for him to check I did my duty as any good whore would. I felt so proud to be his sex-toy. This was better than anything I had expected so far. "Was this your first time with a guy?" He asked me out of the blue. I blushed, embarrassed by the question, and nodded yes. "Sweet!" He declared with an evil smile. "I want to be the one to take your cherry!" "Oh yeah?" I asked playfully. "You are quite big Timoth�e, are you sure you don't want me to practice first?" I added with a smile. He stared at me with confusion and started frowning, obviously not amused. "What?!" He shot back irritated. "Fuck no! I don't share my boyfriend with anyone!" He said. My eyes opened wide, and I must have looked shocked because the irritation from his face turned into apprehension and obvious nervousness. "I mean, we are together, right?" Timoth�e asked me with a soft tone. "Uh... Ok, yes. Yes!" I confirmed before laughing. Timoth�e stared at me with confusion and probably feeling a little insecure, but I crawled to his face and kissed him all over the chest, neck, jawline, and mouth. "You will be my first in all kinds of ways!" I pointed out between kisses. "Mmh, baby I could fuck your perfect ass just right now!" He declared. Timoth�e must have caught my worried expression because he immediately added "There is no hurry, I want our first time to be perfect, just like you!" I smiled at him, and we made out in his bed for quite some time. I loved his scent, I loved his features, his kindness, his roughness, his innocence, and his mischievousness, he was truly the best boyfriend I could hope for. I felt so privileged. On the subway ride home, I smiled happily thinking about Timoth�e. Thinking about my boyfriend. And I was already picturing all the fun we would have together. My parents lived in a very large house by the `Jardin des Plantes'. I knew they were in Japan for the next 10 days for a business trip, so I expected to be alone when I arrived. I pushed the main door and immediately heard a feminine voice. I walked into the living-room and bumped into George and Julie, a classmate of ours, sitting on the couch and watching a movie. "Oh! Hey Henri!" Julie greeted me with a smile. "Hey!" I answered politely. George did not even acknowledge my presence and I went straight upstairs to my room. Fucking hell! I cursed in my head. I always had hated with passion all the people revolving around my brother. Before today I liked Julie, she was a decent girl, but now I was jealous. Why were all these people deemed worthy of George's friendliness and not me? I hated them, even if they were blameless. I almost forgot I was supposed to be beaming about having a boyfriend. But everything I had in mind now was this stupid ass whore giggling around my brother downstairs. FUCK! The rest of the weekend went smoothly. I went to the cinema with my best friend Jean-Baptiste, and we hung around downtown. I told him everything about my evening with Timoth�e and the following morning and he was ecstatic. He kept asking me for embarrassing details and, obviously, I was happy to oblige. Sunday evening, Timoth�e dropped by my place uninvited, I was taken aback but the surprise was quickly dissipated and replaced by excitation. I invited him inside and cooked for him. My parents were so often away that I mastered the art of cooking for myself from a very young age. I also cooked for my brother even though we never ate together when we had the house for ourselves. I would just put his plate in the fridge and by the next day it would be gone. I cherished this little ritual; it made me feel connected to him in some kind of way. I know, it is pathetic when your closer interaction with your sibling is a meal left in the fridge for him to eat later. But hey, that's my life! Timoth�e's appreciation of my homemade chicken and cheese meatballs was less discreet than George's. Actually, I wholeheartedly laughed witnessing him devouring them like a madman, barely taking any time to breath. We chatted for a while, and he was really affectionate. "Thank you so much baby! Those were some seriously delicious meatballs!" Timoth�e concluded after his plate was totally empty. He grabbed my arm and pulled me to him, he leaned over my face and his lips kissed mine. We had just broken the embrace when my brother walked in. I think the three of us were equally surprised and saying I was embarrassed would be an understatement. Technically, George didn't catch us kissing. Our body language, however, was unequivocal and my brother must have known immediately something happened between us. I was a nervous wreck; I never came out to my brother, and I had no idea what he would say. "Hey George!" Timoth�e eventually greeted him. "What's up Tim?" George answered casually, walking to the fridge. "I just dropped by to check on Henri for our Literature class presentation tomorrow!" Timoth�e lied. "Sure!" My brother said, unbothered, while opening the fridge door. He grabbed the still warm plate of meatballs I left him and shot a quick glance at me. "Oh! This is some seriously good shit! Henri is a real chef, you're lucky, dude!" My boyfriend enthusiastically told my brother pointing at the plate he just grabbed. "Looks pretty good, yeah." George answered friendlily. "See you tomorrow dude." "See ya" Tim told him as he walked out of the kitchen with his plate. I was melting, my brother just indirectly complimented me. It might not look like a lot, but these kinds of things just didn't happen, and I was inwardly beaming. I kept my composure as Timoth�e would not have understood why I was reacting like that. "Well! I better get going before my parents freak out!" My boyfriend said. I nodded with a wide smile, and he leaned in for another passionate kiss. "See you tomorrow babe!" He told me before leaving. When I woke up the next day, Monday 23rd of October, I felt like this was just another regular school day. I went to my bathroom and took a shower, brushed my teeth and sprayed some perfume on my neck. I got dressed and prepared my backpack. I went downstairs and George was already waiting for me in the living room. I had my headphones on, and we headed to the bus station without exchanging a single word, as usual. We exited the bus at `Esquirol' and walked to Ozenne high school. I parted with my brother in front of the school and met Jean-Baptiste and a few of my other friends and we chatted a bit before the class began. The whole morning was uneventful. Timoth�e was sitting next to me, but he was cautious not to touch me or give me inappropriate attention that might raise suspicion, not that anyone would have cared anyway. I had lunch with Jean-Baptiste, and we had a great time, as always. I was disappointed he was not in my class but at least we had lunch together every day. After lunch we decided to head to the courtyard and chill outside for a bit before the classes started. "It was you right? You fucking piece of shit!" I heard the unmistakable voice of my brother shout. I increased the pace and walked in the corridor. George and Timoth�e were facing one another, and my brother looked furious. "I know it was you, admit it you fucking coward!" George threatened while pushing Timoth�e. "What's happening?" I asked anxiously, standing next to Timoth�e. "You stay out of this you fucking idiot!" George shouted at me angrily. "Dude! Chill out, Henri's got nothing to do with it okay!" Timoth�e shot back immediately. I was about to speak to calm things down, and also understanding what the actual fuck was happening, but my brother just lost it. "You don't get to tell me shit about how I speak to my brother!" George screamed at the top of his lungs. "George please!" I pleaded trying to calm him down. "WHAT?" He screamed back at me. "You are going to defend your asshole of a boyfriend?" He said before pushing me roughly. Witnessing that Timoth�e was ready to jump on him and George was equally willing to fight. "No! NO!" I screamed putting myself in the middle. George raised his fist and threw his best punch. I am not sure I was meant to be the one to be punched but I honestly don't remember much after that. Apparently, the punch sent me directly on the staircase and I roughly fell on the stairs. I was unconscious by the time I reached the lower floor and two of my ribs were broken. Jean-Baptiste told me that there was a moment of silence before Timoth�e rushed downstairs to check on me. My brother stayed dumbfounded standing in the middle of the corridor and was found there when the security arrived a few seconds later. I woke up at the hospital a few hours later. Jean-Baptiste was by my side, looking at me when I opened my eyes. "Hey, Henri, how are you feeling?" He asked me anxiously. I was confused, it took several seconds for me to fully remember everything that happened and why I was there. "Where is my brother?" I immediately questioned with a dry mouth and hoarse voice. "He is being questioned along with Timoth�e at the high school." J-B explained with a low voice. "Questioned by whom?" I interrogated. "The police as well as the school administration." He told me with a serious expression. "I hope this asshole will get expelled!" He added. "Oh gosh! I'm having a rough headache J-B!" I said while rubbing my temple. "I knew your brother was a jerk, but this is seriously fucked up Henri!" Jean-Baptiste eventually said with a stern face. "He didn't mean it!" I defended him, hardly believing it myself. J-B was about to say something but at the last moment he refrained and just sighed instead. "Well, I should get going. I will drop by tomorrow morning, before your parents arrive." He said with a faint smile. "My parents are in Japan right now; I doubt they will drop by tomorrow!" I answered with a chuckle. Jean-Baptiste rolled his eyes and gave me a condescending look. "One of their sons sent the other to the hospital unconscious. I was there when the doctors called them, they will be here by tomorrow!" He explained. "Oh, ok. Thank you for warning me." I answered, astonished. He smiled at me and walked out of the room. I was still processing the news; it was very unlike my parents to cancel business trips. I was feeling super guilty, and I was apprehending their return, they would be very mad at my brother, and I. Inwardly I was bracing myself for when the shit would hit the fan. The rest of the evening was plain boring. The hospital conducted check-ups on me to verify that everything was okay since I had been unconscious, and they kept me to sleep there for observation. I was super tired anyway, so I slept like a baby. When I woke up the next morning, I was brought to yet another battery of medical exams and then Jean-Baptiste arrived with some lunch for us both. We ate in my hospital room, and he stayed with me until it was time for him to go back to school. After he left, I had a nap and when I woke up my parents were walking in the room. "How are you darling?" My mother asked me while she sat by the side of the bed. My father stood on the other side and was looking down at me. He seemed a little embarrassed and I was wondering why, but apart from that they definitely did not seem to be mad at me, which was a surprise honestly. "I am fine, they were just making sure I was alright, but I have nothing wrong really!" I reassured them with a wide smile. "Well, you have two broken ribs son!" My father told me while ruffling my hair gently. "And you were unconscious, that is not nothing." He added. My mother shook her head and now seemed angry. "I still cannot believe how George could do such a thing!" She declared furiously. "It was an accident mom! Really that's no big deal, you shouldn't have changed your plans for that!" I immediately answered. "Henri, well... uh... the school told us what happened." My mother said, embarrassed. For my part I had no idea what she meant, and I looked back at them, puzzled. "Son, we love you just the same. It doesn't matter to us that you're gay." My father then declared with a faint smile. My eyes grew wide in shock, and I straightened up in my bed. "What? How did you...? Wait, what? What does it have to do with any of this?" I asked, totally confused, and lost. "Don't worry about it darling. Your father and I have decided to put George in a boarding school, we won't allow him to bully you because of who you are." My mom announced with a concerned expression. I was scandalised and I gasped in shock. "Mom! You must believe me, they lied. That's not what happened! George was fighting with someone, and I just tried to separate them. He punched me but he meant to punch the other guy, that had nothing to do with me! Please! Please don't do that!" I pleaded with tears building up and a shaky voice. "Henri, your brother was not fighting `someone'." My father corrected while giving me a look. "Ok! Yeah, he was fighting with my boyfriend, so what? I had nothing to do with it!" I explained. My parents were having none of it, and I felt that the situation was getting out of hand. If George were sent to a boarding school because of me, I would never, ever, forgive myself. I started sobbing and crying like a baby. "Please! Don't send him away. He is all I have, I love him. I swear it was an accident. Please you cannot do that. I beg you, I would do anything, anything you want!" I implored them while tears flooded my eyes and blurred my vision. I never cried in front of my parents before and was rarely displaying my emotions, but this was too much to handle for me. My parents seemed deeply moved and glanced at one another. My father took my hand in his tenderly and squeezed it. "Ok Henri, but you must let us know if he hurts you, in any way, ok?" My father said softly. I nodded while trying to stop from crying "Thank you, dad! Thank you so much!" I managed to whisper between two sobs. I gathered my stuff, and I came back home with my parents. George was still at school, so it was just the three of us. I took a long shower and changed into comfy sweatpants to chill in the living-room. my parents ate something quickly and went straight to bed. It was super early, but the jetlag and the improvised international flight must have wrecked them. By 6pm they were upstairs in their room, and I was watching television. Around 7.30pm I was hungry, so I went to the kitchen and started preparing dinner. I was almost done when I heard the main door opening. My brother was home, and I was very anxious to see him after what happened. Deep down I was not absolutely sure it was an accident. After all, my brother hated my guts and never really tried to pretend otherwise. Perhaps that's what he meant to do, to punch me in the face, to put me into a coma. I heard my brother turn on his PS4 in the living room and I grew a little anxious about seeing him, but in the same time I didn't want to avoid him. I prepared a plate for each of us and walked in the living room. "Hi!" I greeted my brother with a soft tone. "Is there some for me?" He asked casually, pointing at the plates I was carrying. "Sure." I confirmed. To be honest I was not expecting much, but his casual behaviour, like nothing happened, hurt me like hell. I felt like I was garbage for him, like I could die, and he would barely notice or care. He sure knew how to make me feel like I was nothing. The feeling kind of overwhelmed me and I had to know. I tried to suppress the question from my head, but it just kept popping in my head. "Did you mean it?" I eventually asked, staring at the television, and avoiding eye contact. "No." George simply declared after a long pause. "You need a better boyfriend." He then said. "What?" I exclaimed with incredulity. "Your boyfriend is a douchebag; you should dump his ass." He continued without turning his eyes from the television. He was still not apologising; he was not even looking sorry about anything. And now he was insulting my boyfriend for no reason whatsoever. I wanted to scream, I wanted to ask him why he was treating me like shit every goddamn time. "Like you would care anyway!" I snapped before quickly getting up and walking to my room. Before I could even leave the living-room George caught up with me and grabbed me by the arm. He pinned me against the wall, and I winced with pain as my broken ribs hurt like hell. "I care! I care more than you think!" My brother whispered angrily. My face was twisted in pain, and I was so angry I did not even process what he just told me. "Why do you hate me!?" I shouted. He quickly covered my mouth with his right hand and brought his face millimetres from mine. "You're always so perfect, Henri." George spit out with contempt. "No wonder you are Mom and Dad's favourite. Henri never lets you down, he never gets bad grades, he never misbehaves or do or say anything inappropriate, Henri is a fucking saint, is he not?" He added with resentment. "You've always made my life miserable, forcing me to justify why I wasn't like my `holier than thou' baby brother, forcing me to endure the glances of pity the parents give me when they realise, I will never be like their precious prodigious boy, secretly wishing you were an only child." My brother enumerated between his gritted teeth. "But don't say I don't care, because I do." George took his hand off my mouth and walked out without saying anything else. I was stunned, barely processing everything he just told me. Mechanically, I went upstairs to my bedroom. I kept repeating the words he said in my head, "Don't say I don't care, because I do." I was trying to make sense of it. I texted Timoth�e straight away to at least understand some of the things that were currently happening. Nothing made that much sense to me. The fight that broke out between Timoth�e and George, the fact that my parents then learned that I was gay and had a boyfriend, the things my brother told me. I just wanted to sleep through it and wake up in a world where none of it happened. "Hi!" I just texted Timoth�e on Facebook Messenger to see if he was available to talk. "Hey babe! How are you doing? I am so sorry I did not come to check on you at the hospital, but I thought it would not be the greatest idea with your family and stuff." He texted back. "I am fine don't worry. I'm in a little pain with my ribs but I'm mostly okay." I answered. "Are you coming back to school tomorrow?" He asked. "Yes! I wanted to ask you something though. Why were you and my brother arguing in the corridor?" I decided to interrogate straight-forwardly. I waited for several minutes but I did not get an answer even though the message was `seen'. "Babe, I am so sorry..." He eventually texted back. "What? Tell me what happened Tim!" I kept pressing, a bad feeling growing inside of me. "He saw the sextape I made of you the other day and just lost it." Tim eventually explained. "Timoth�e! What the fuck?!" I wrote angrily. "Tell me you haven't done that to me, OMG!" Was everyone going fucking nuts? My brother, my boyfriends, my parents, was there anyone in their right mind for goodness' sake! "Henri, I am so sorry. It was an accident. I was so excited that I showed it to my best friend Vianney. This fucking idiot is friends with your brother too and I really don't know why but he showed him the video!" He explained. I hadn't known Timoth�e for a long time, but I still trusted him. I felt so betrayed and disgusted by his behaviour. Showing this video to his `best friend', what sort of best friend would show the sextape to his boyfriend's brother anyway? This was a seriously fucked up thing to do. "Baby? I am so sorry I swear! Please forgive me!" Timoth�e texted. I ignored him and turned off my phone. I had too many social interactions for the time being. I was going to do my homework, read a little and then go straight to bed. I woke up the next morning only to find out that I was still rather pissed at everything that happened. I took a quick shower and got everything ready for school. When I went downstairs to eat breakfast, I overheard my parents talking but they interrupted themselves as soon as they heard me coming down. "Hey!" I greeted them while walking in. They were not alone actually; they were talking to George. I strongly suspected that they were lecturing him from the face he made and the tense atmosphere. "Hi darling, did you sleep well?" My mother asked. "Yeah, fine thanks. George, are you ready? I'm just grabbing something to eat, and we can go." I suggested. It was a little early to leave but I wanted to help him get out of this situation. I was still feeling guilty that my parents were so mad at him and blamed him for cancelling their business trip. George shot a glance at our parents to seek for their approval to leave and my father nodded. My mother sighed and seemed irritated and frustrated but she didn't say anything else. My brother followed me in the kitchen, and we grabbed something to eat before heading to the bus station. He was silent and was back to his usual self. Like nothing happened the previous day, like he didn't tell me that "He cared". I must admit I was twisted between the comfort of pretending everything was back to normal and the envy to explore whatever my brother meant the day before. I would leave that choice up to him anyway, as I was too nervous around him to press the matter. When we reached the high school Jean-Baptiste was already in front with his girlfriend Nad�ge. They both glanced at George with an accusatory expression before my brother and I parted, and I joined my best friend. "I expected your brother to be expelled for at least a week, if not definitively!" Nad�ge exclaimed. "Don't be like that, my parents give him enough shit as it is." I answered with a little irritation. J-B rolled his eyes but didn't say anything. He knew I had a difficult relationship with my brother and that always made him angry that I would let George treat me like that without firing back. But Jean-Baptiste genuinely loved me as a friend, and he respected my decision not to hate my brother. We changed topics and chatted and laughed as usual. Okay laughing was not a great idea considering my broken ribs, but Jean-Baptiste was actually a very funny and joyful guy. I was so happy to have him in my life. After the bell rang, I went directly to my classroom, and everyone was staring at me. To be precise everyone was staring at George, Timoth�e and I, as we were the protagonist of the big fight that everyone gossiped about. Timoth�e sat by my side as usual, but I pretty much ignored him. I was still very angry and felt betrayed that he allowed me to be outed to my family in this wicked way. He tried to get my attention on several occasions during classes, but I wouldn't budge. From the corner of my eye, I noticed that George was occasionally shooting glances at us and seemed irritated, to say the least. The rest of the day was uneventful and at 5.30pm George and I were on our way back home. Silent bus trip as usual and when we got off the bus it started raining quite heavily. We ran back home, and I found out that running with broken ribs was actually very painful. George and I went directly upstairs to change into dry clothes but as I were putting some sweatpants on my brother walked into my bedroom. I froze and started breathing heavily, I knew something was up. He walked to me slowly and my face flushed. To hide my embarrassment, I turned my back on him and grabbed a T-Shirt to put on. He pressed his body behind mine, and I felt his warm breath in my neck. I had goosebumps, and I was feeling weak and confused about what I felt. "I have a favour to ask you" He whispered in my left ear while his arms slowly embraced my stomach. "We are going to play a little game together, but I'm sure you will love it." He told me with mischievousness in his voice. "I want the parents to believe you and I are the closest fucking brother on earth so they can finally get off my back!" He said. "Why would I do that?" I answered, trying to sound firm and threatening but poorly succeeding. "Well, because that's what you want. Because you know I don't deserve all the shit they give me because of you." He shot back with self-confidence. "Mom told me you cried when they suggested sending me into a boarding school. Is that true? Did baby Henri cry and manage to convince the parents to keep me here?" He mocked with obvious contempt in his voice. I gulped painfully. "Fuck off George!" I weakly answered but still relished on the gentle hug he was giving me. "Oh, now that's not a way to talk to your older brother, is it?" He teased before kissing my warm skin between my jawline and my left ear. My heart was beating fast, and I was disoriented as a million thoughts crossed my mind at once. "Don't pretend you won't love me to act like the most caring brother. Isn't that what you always wanted? Me to love you the way you love me?" He teased manipulatively. "Yes." I admitted in a murmur. "Good. I can't wait to break your heart in little pieces" He declared before letting go of the embrace and walking out of my room. You can already get the full book here: https://www.mybestseller.co.uk/site/userwebsite/index/id/v.dehabsbourg The book exists in E-book and Printed version, go and get it! For any question, please reach out to me on this e-mail: [email protected] And follow us on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/habsbourg.publications/
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/adoring-devin	Date: Mon, 16 Sep 2024 14:13:43 -0400 From: Gregory Gordon Subject: Adoring Devin "Adoring Devin" by Gregory Gordon [email protected] Thursday. 9:36 pm. He summons me by text: "Come." So much is packed into that one word, so many years, so much devotion, so much heartbreak, so humiliating (my friends tell me), so affirming (I tell myself). Pathetic, isn't it, that my service to Devin is still the most important part of my life despite everything good that's going on all around it. But that's the way it is. It's reached this point where a single word snakes its way through my entire body and soul. I'm being summoned at the Master's convenience. Okay, sure, I never actually call him Master except when he's really hurting me badly and I'm afraid I can bear no more. Otherwise, he's Devin and I'm "kid." He beats me whenever he wants, whenever he decides "it will do you some good," he tells me. In the midst of my cried I call him "Master"--the closest thing to a safe word I have. Things usually wind down after that. But I can never be completely sure what he'll decide when I cry out in desperation. That hasn't been happening as often as it used to. Usually he just wants me to be in some pain, but nothing too extreme. The way he sees it, I always deserve to be punished simply because I lust after his body. That's the name of the game and it always has been since school days. I won't mention our ages because I don't want this to turn into kiddie porn. But long before we discovered sex�or, rather, before he discovered sex and decided how he would demand it from me, even before we began to grew pubic hair, he was in charge. Mine started to grow in before his and that angered him. Once a week he's shave me and then punish me by thrashing my cock and balls once he's shaved me bare again. I remember how relieved I was when I saw those first few hairs appear above his gorgeous dick. He was my only friend. Somehow he managed to let everyone else know I was off limits, that I belonged to him. That suited me just fine. I've always been a terrible loner, so allowing one person to invade my space was all I could handle. When I wasn't with him I went within myself, curled up in some safe space somewhere�my flat was full of them--reading or writing or doodling or even daydreaming of what life would be like if I were a normal type of kid but always finding it dissatisfying. I couldn't comprehend how I would live if I didn't belong to Devin. And yes, I realized that even before any hair grew in. I belonged to him. I only had one God and his name was Devin. We didn't meet by accident. Devin claimed me. One day a bunch of us were lined up to go get checked out for head lice. He looked up and down the line then walked right up to me. "Come." That was all he said. And I did. We went for a long walk, getting to know one another, speaking about the kind of things young kids babble on about, him leading the way, sometimes tapping my shoulder to get me to go first when there was too much thicket. At one point we reached a grassy area and he stopped. I stopped as well, wondering what was happening. "I picked you because I could a look in your eyes that told me you were meant to have someone better than you handle things. So this is the way it's gonna be, kid. I call the shots. You do what I say. That's how things are meant to be. Understand?" I hesitate. He doesn't move. He waits for my first of many surrenders. "okay, Devin, whatever you say." And with those words I sealed my fate. "Then I'm gonna give you a little test. I want you to do something. Promise me you'll do it." "I promise, Devin. I'll do what you want me to do." "Good. Take off your sneakers and socks. I want you barefoot when you're with me." I hesitated a bit but then got down so I could untie my shoes. I stood up to take them off and my socks and it was kind of awkward. I almost lost my balance once but Devin took hold of the back of my neck and made sure I'd be okay. Not a word was said. Nothing was needed. I learned everything I needed to learn by the feel of his hand taking possession of my entire being. And there I was. Standing by Devin. Barefoot. Sneakers and socks on the ground. Devin stooped over and picked them up. He buried them in a pile of leaves by a tree. "Leave them here." We kept walking and he started talking to me about some book he'd read where the servants were kept barefoot all the time. "It's cool now, kid, me with shoes on my feet and you bare. That's how we're gonna be. Me big. You bare boy." He starts to laugh and I'm not sure whether he really means that or if he's just being silly�stupid, even. He's starting to scare me now. I stop and turn around and go back to get my stuff. He comes after me. "Hey, don't be like that. I didn't mean I don't like you. I just mean I like it that you'll go barefoot because I told you I want you to. I have all the power, kid." Then he takes his hand and starts rubbing my back while I'm still bent down to get my sneakers. "Relax, kid. I've got ya. C'mon. Leave them here. Leave the past. Come on this adventure with me. It'll be good for you, I promise." His hand is now on the back of my neck, just like he was before when I almost fell over. It sends feelings through me that I never had before. Some kind of warm wave starts at my neck where his hand is and then rolls all the way down through my body. He makes me feel wonderful. I understand that this is the way things were meant to be. We keep walking, a lot slower now because I have to be careful where I step. "Hey, I've got a plan. Whenever you're with me I'm gonna make you take something off. Only when we're alone. And you'll do it to show me your respect." Respect. Do I still respect him after everything that's happened now that we're already in our thirties and I'm just naked a lot, especially when he wants to beat me. One day we were hanging out and he told me to take my pants off. As usual, there were skid marks in my white bvds and he saw them. He teased me and told me I'd better wipe my ass better from now on. Then he took them down and spanked my bare ass a few times as punishment. From then on, he'd often check to make sure I was clean and when I wasn't, down came my underpants and the spankings got harder as time went on. Once we got to high school he told me it was time for us to grow up and from now on he'd use his strap on me. I asked me mother to get me colored underpants, hoping to be able to hide if I wasn't clean enough. He got real pissed off about that. After that, I always wore white. It got embarrassing because most of the boys had graduated to boxers by then. Not me. "Tighty whities for boys like you" he insisted. Don't get me wrong: I love being with him. We had good times. Movies, playing hookey, stripping down and swimming in the creek by our houses, although he'd make me stay naked after swimming a lot longer than he did. I remember the first time I looked at his dick and realized how perfect it was, so much nicer than my own. He eventually caught me looking. He didn't tease me about it, but he did tell me he wasn't surprised, that he always figured I'd turn out to be a faggot. "It will be our secret," he promised. "I don't want anyone else to know that I'm hanging out with a cock-loving faggot." To the best of my knowledge, no one else ever found out about the way things were between the two of us. I wouldn't have cared; everyone could see that I idolized him. But he insisted that no one found out what a queer I was turning out to be. Now he had even more reason to punish me. I was almost always a little sore. He liked to bend me over a table, pull my pants down himself, always checking for skid marks. He got a thicker belt for his jeans. He started giving me "six of the best"�he'd learned that phrase from a story about boys in a British boarding school and decided it would be good for me to be disciplined that way. He also pointed out that the boys in those schools got their asses whipped by upperclassmen, boys whipping boys, just like us, he said. "It was the right way to keep you in line," he told me. I believed him and never objected. Sure, he really started hurting me, but at the same time that warm feeling usually came over me when he was finished and made me pull my pants back up. Things changed a lot when we were in college. Whenever we were alone, usually because either his roommate or mine were away. (We never lived together for some reason.) At first he made a whip out of leather shoelaces. "I want you naked. Strip," he tells me. He likes to watch me surrender to him this way, looking into his eyes while I remove my clothing, one thing at a time. It was always the same routine. He never tied me down. He made me get me down on the floor and he'd just start swinging his whip and landing it anywhere on my body. He told me he liked watching me writhe and squirm trying to protect myself, but of course I was never able to escape most of the beating. It wasn't severe, usually just enough to "make a point," as he said. Some times, though, when he was really upset at me about something he'd really lash me until I was crying and calling him "Master," my way of begging him to have mercy on me. Some times he did. Some times he just beat me harder. I don't know what it was about me, but I almost always got hard when it happened and he'd aim for my dick and balls when I ended up on my back because I didn't want him to his my ass any more. He graduated from the make-shift whips as time went on and he found a place where he could buy more realistic things. He had a flogger he liked to use and just a few years ago he found a whip which he learned to apply with great skill and accuracy. Sometimes he'd hold me down by standing on my arm or leg or even my back when I was bent over. That was when I always get the worst of it. You might wonder why I put up with it. The truth was that I turned out to be a real masochist. I craved that kind of attention from him at times. I still do. It's never stopped happening. Especially when he realized that I did a much better job sucking his cock or licking his feet and balls and ass after I'd been whipped. It was true. It did something to me when he beat me. It made me ravenous for his body. Any part of his body. Whatever he wanted. Any time. And you might find this really bizarre, but the thing was that he took really good care of me whenever it happened. There was nothing that made me feel better than being able to bury my face in his chest and cry out all the pain and humiliation why he held me and touched me gently and talked to me in a way that made my heart break for him and I would fall even more deeply in love with him and grateful for everything he's done for me in my life. He just had this way about him that made it all seem so right and natural, what we had between us. He's really big on symbolism, ever since he did a study on it for an anthropology independent study one semester and he couldn't stop talking to me about it because a lot of the things he's had me do over the years all mean even more than he thought they did. Everything that happened between us was symbolically powerful, he'd explain. And he always made so much sense. Yes. I needed to be subservient to him. We didn't use the language but I think most guys into what we came to understand as bdsm would have said I was his slave if they had known what was going on between the two of us. But no. It was always our secret. This is the first time he ever wanted me to write about it, to make it more real, he'd say. He wanted other men to know about this, to encourage them to explore these types of things with their own submissive buddies. He also told me he was thinking of letting others know what kind of a boy I was. He told me he wanted me to be proud of my shame. That made no sense to me. I wore shame well. It was engraved in my entire being. As for pride, I never dared show it or I'd end up n chains in a stone cell, sitting in my own excrement until he came to hose me off then set me free. One night in the dorm me rammed his hard cock into my mouth and made me choke. It was awful. He'd never done anything like that before. He waited until I recovered, tears still in my eyes. "That was a symbolic act. It's not only about you being my cocksucker or cleaning my filth with your miserable tongue. It's not about me fucking your mouth and ass. I did that so you would understand that when I fuck your holes I'm also fucking your soul. I get all the way in there and take possession of your entire being." What could I say? I bowed my head to the ground in utter surrender. He place his boot on my neck and held me down fast. We were what, 20? 21? at the time. We never roomed together. He wanted me away from him most of the time, even back then. We sometimes went out together and even our outings were ritualized. He'd take me to dinner after taking his strap to my ass so he could enjoy the sight of me sitting across from him uncomfortably with red-rimmed eyes as he decided what he would order for the both of us while I remained silent with my eyes lowered until the waiter left us. Almost every outing had some element of subjugation built in. He was a master of being my Master. You might be surprised, but I was allowed to have my own life, my career, a few friends apart from him,even a couple guys I have sex with, always with his approval. He kept me shaved bare at all times and this announced my submissiveness to those who used me. It always seemed to turn out that way. No one ever made love to me; they used me. Even on those rare occasions when a hot guy would suck my cock, he always made it clear that I was to use the experience as a way of learning to become a better cocksucker myself. I never got to fuck anyone. Even my independent sexual activity was subject to his obsession with controlling every bit of my life. I even had to call and beg permission to masturbate. He usually gave permission as long as I admitted that I deserved to be punished next time for being so selfish. My sex life was subject to Devin's control. I'm well aware that as much as I enjoy sex with others, it paled in comparison to my being with Devin and serving him. I worked from home, usually naked but in a shirt when on Zoom or face-time. I was almost always sore, either from being thrashed or whipped, or because Devin had gotten frisky with clothespins or other toys. I'm not complaining, mind you. I'm just letting you know more about what goes on when Devin orders me to "Come." We live close by. I really love my flat, especially since I spend almost all my time there since I work remotely, only rarely called in to deal with a problem. And like I told you in the beginning, when not with Devin, I'm just alone, an introverted recluse. Comfortable solitude is what sustains me. In a way, it's medicinal. It keeps me always primed and ready for when Devin summons me. Lately I've been reading a series of mystery novels set in Rome. It's delightful because in addition to the mystery, I'm getting a taste of the culture that I never knew before. Sometimes I wonder about what it must have been like to be a slave of the Romans back then, but afraid I'd probably just end up being a galley slave, and that's out of the question. But then I realize that there were actually real human beings who lived their lives chained to the oars of some ship. There's so much suffering. Mine is trivial compared to so much misery. Not that I'm complaining. Did I say that already? I'm not telling you this story to get you to feel sorry about me. Actually, I'm writing this now Devin wants me to make it known. Devin wants others to know how I worship him and serve him, hoping to inspire other Masters to exert more intense control over the boys they get to enjoy enslaving the way he has done me. We've known each other for over half our our lives. We've seen each other grow in every way. He liked for us to get naked together a lot, especially at sleep-overs, always at his place in "his kingdom," as he used to call it. We looked and touched and kept track of the changes that slowly came about over the years. We were together when we discovered boners and what they could feel like, and how I could use my fingers and later my mouth and tongue to give him exquisite pleasure, pleasure which he denied me to experience when with him. I must confess that I was the one to initiate the practice of sucking his cock. One time, it just came over me that I wanted to do that for him, that I wanted to know what it would feel like to have him in my mouth. Needless to say, it became part of our way of life. He never touched me in those private places except with an implement that caused me pain. From the very beginning, it was my job to "take care of him" when, where and how he wanted it. Whenever Devin and I talked about that first awkward blow job I gave him, he told me that I got the urge to do it because I was destined to be his cocksucker from the time I was born. And not only cocksucker. When I used the word "worship" before, I meant it. My hands and my mouth frequently serve every inch of him from the bottoms of his feet all the way up and into his armpits as well. More than once he's summoned me to bathe parts of his body before he showered, emphasizing the fact that I was his personal pig, or simply because he wants the pleasure of knowing he can make me wash his slimy groin and stinky armpits with my mouth and tongue. Sometimes he makes me spend an entire evening worshipping his feet while he watches a movie. He usually gives me a sound thrashing or even a whipping to "season me" to do a good job sucking his feet. Oh my, how hard it is to keep licking feet despite being exhausted. By the time he lets me stop his feet are usually wet with my tears. But oh how great the reward when he thanks and praises me with his hand on the back of my neck. I need that so much and he knows it. I mentioned that as a rule Devin kept me shaved bare like a prepubescent child. A few years ago a I had an attack of appendicitis and when the nurse came to "prep" me for the operation he was surprised to discover that I was as bare as a child. Devin made it clear that he had taken care of it himself. He also insisted they put a cot in my room. He stayed with me for my entire stay in the hospital, only leaving my side when I slept and that for only brief periods of time so he could have something to eat and take care of his own bathroom needs. He talked to me, read me stories, held my hand and made promises that we'd go somewhere special for a little vacation as soon as I was able to move around. So I answered his summons tonight, hoping I would not be whipped again because the last time had been the more severe of all. I had been in a foul mood that night and had dared argue with him about something stupid. You think I would have learned over the years. I'm thirty-five years old now and still he insists I need to be disciplined on a regular basis. Although I'm known to be a responsible professional by colleagues and superiors, in his eyes I am still the same child I was that day he sat me down and scolded me for not wiping my ass well enough, then made me wear my soiled underpants over my face while he took me over his knee and walloped me for being a dirty boy. That doesn't happen very often any more, of course. After all, I've learned to behave as he wants me to because to this day there is no greater joy in my life than those times when he holds the back of my neck and speaks to me with words that help me understand how much he cherishes me and how he never regrets doing whatever he has to do to keep me well regulated, obedient, docile and above all, grateful for the day he first cast his eyes on me when I stood in line in 4th grade and said to me, "Come." I have never failed to respond. I have never failed to adore him, no matter what that may mean on any given occasion. I belong to Devin. When all is said and done, I guess I am proud of that after all. I don't know what Devin plans to do with this now that it's finished. I know that whatever he decides to do with it will end up being for my good. Thank you for reading about my life as Devin's kid.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-man-in-the-alley/the-man-in-the-alley-2	Date: Wed, 25 Jan 2023 10:07:25 +0000 From: Mark Angle Subject: The Man in the Alley - 2 This story is fiction. Any similarities with any people living ordead, or with events that really happened is completely coincidental and unintentional. The events in this story are not meant to be literal. If the reader wants to assign ages to the characters, he is free to assign the ages he pleases. I apologize for the delay in delivering part 2. I will try to be faster from now on. Previously: 1. Al and Adrian meet. 4441 words, about 20 minutes reading time 3816 words, about 18 minutes reading time The Man in the Alley 2 Two boys were sitting on the floor. One, a bit older, had darker hair. He was holding a metal bar. He looked at the younger boy and said, "I'm not sure." The plan was very simple. Each one had his penis restrained by a small metal cage and each cage was locked with a numbered plastic lock. The lock was easy to break: that's what the metal bar was for. But once broken, it could not be replaced. Even if they put another plastic lock back on the cage, the number on the new lock would be different. If the older boy inserted the rod through the loop of the plastic lock and twisted it until the thin plastic band broke, there would be no turning back. The younger boy was mechanically trying to touch his penis through the cage. He could only reach very small parts. It was not satisfying in any way. He looked at the older boy. "I really want to take it off. Just for a while." The older boy was not sure. "If something hurts, or if something is pinched, or anything like that, you can take it off immediately. That's why they're not locked with a metal padlock. But if you just feel like doing it, I really don't think it's a good idea." The young boy said, "But I want to!" The older boy sighed. He said, "Do you remember when you wanted to try the green hot sauce and you just dipped your finger in it and licked it?" "Yes, but it's different." "And then you rubbed your eye." "It's not the same!" "Sometimes what you think you want is not what you really want. I think that we should leave these on." The younger boy got annoyed. He snapped, "Give me the thing!" He was referring to the metal bar. He tried to grab it from the older boy. He was going to twist his own plastic lock open and remove the metal cage from his penis. A voice asked, "Is that really a good idea?" It was a much deeper voice than the older boy. The younger boy looked up. There had been a man behind them. He must have been there for a while, at least long enough to hear the end of their discussion. The younger boy's face went a bit red. He said, "I'm sorry, Dad." The man said, "You have to understand that if you want to remove it, you can. I just think, like your brother, that you'll probably be happier if you don't." The man was not very tall, but he was thick and hairy. He had black hair and a black beard. He was wearing jeans and a flannel shirt. The shirt was open enough to show black hair on his chest. He was barefoot. The man asked, "Did you boys get ready before I arrived?" The older boy said, "We did, Dad." The man rubbed his hand on the older boy's head. He said, "I'll be back in a bit. I need to get ready too." The older boy said, "It would be great if we were allowed to watch something, Dad." The man had started walking away. He turned back. He asked, "You mean you want to watch something from my list?" The older boy said, "Yes. Please, Dad. Until you're back." There was a projector in the room. The man put something on and left. The boys were on a couch, sitting on a big towel. Both were transfixed by what was projected in front of them. It was men. Not boys, men. Big, hairy, bearded, muscular men. They were kissing each other, licking each other, sucking, rimming, and at the end penetrating each other. Both of the boys' penises were trying in vain to get hard. They just pushed against the bars of their cages. The younger boy was still trying to touch his penis through the bars of the cage. The older boy knew better. He had raised his legs and was rubbing his fingers in and out of his hole. He tried to imagine what one of the men he was watching was feeling, hearing, smelling. The contact of the other man's skin, hair, lips. He inserted his finger into his hole and twirled it in. What he saw was creating a hunger for man. He was training his mind to love that hunger without the need for his penis to be touched. The younger boy was about to give up touching his own penis. He got up, annoyed. He walked out. A short moment later, he walked back in with two small dildos and a jar of lube cream. He handed one of the dildos to the older boy. The older boy hardly looked. He rubbed the lube on the dildo and on the outside of his hole. He placed the dildo on the outside of his hole while staring at a man being passionately penetrated by another man. He whispered, "Daddy..." and he tried to push the dildo in. It took a few attempts, but eventually, he could move the dildo back and forth. He started to close his eyes, but he wanted to see more of the men. The younger boy just tried to get the dildo in so that he could have an unobstructed sensation. At first, he could feel the dildo inside of him, but it provided no sensation that was specifically pleasurable. He just felt it rub inside of his body. He looked at the older boy who was clearly enjoying the feeling. The older boy reacted to each of the dildo's movements with a moan or a grunt. The younger boy tried to focus on the men on the screen again. Two men were kissing. Then a third joined in. That made the younger boy's penis try to get hard, fighting against the metal of his cage. He moved the dildo inside of his hole. It felt good. The boy kept watching: one man was holding another man's hips while penetrating him and kissing him on the back of the neck. Both were standing. The third man walked to the man being penetrated and passionately kissed him. The dildo inside of the younger boy started to make him feel good. He made the movements slower but more intense. He concentrated on the sensation. He wished it was a real man, hoping it would be one soon. The man on the screen who had started the kiss moved around and crouched. He started to rim the active man, trying to work a rhythm that matched his. It was awkward. The man who was crouching seemed to have an irresistible urge to put his rough bearded face inside of the big hairy ass that was in front of him. The younger boy started to drool. He wanted it too. He too wanted to lick that big hairy ass. The movement of the dildo inside of him made him want it even more. His penis was not giving up trying to get erect but his mind was now fully focused on his the dildo made on his hole feel and how much he desired the muscular man's ass he was watching. He closed his eyes and felt a large warm hand press on his chest. He relaxed. Another hand grabbed his dildo and moved it in and out, slowly but powerfully. The boy started to moan, "Daddy..." The man just smiled. The boy moaned, "I like feeling you inside of me, Daddy. I want to feel more of you." The younger boy opened his eyes. The man was completely naked. Above the boy was the man's armpit. The boy drooled at the sight of it. He breathed in deep, hoping to capture a bit of its scent, but it was too far away. The other boy was looking at them. He was rubbing his cage, which was pointless. The man slowly removed the dildo from the younger boy's hole and pushed one of his heavily lubed fingers in. The boy gasped. Without moving his head, he tried to move his lips towards the man. The man just said, "Do you understand now why I keep you from using your penis, boy?" The boy's mind was clouded by the sensations he was feeling. He just nodded. He wanted to please the man, obey the man, lick the man. To the boy's distress, the man removed his hand and stood up. He put a big pillow on the floor. Then he effortlessly picked up the boy, and gently placed him on the carpeted floor. He positioned him so that the boy's butt was held up by the big cushion. He placed himself astride the boy, almost sitting over him, looking away from his face, between the boys' legs. He started pushing a thick, rough, and very lubed up finger in. The boy moaned, "More, Daddy..." Then he pulled it out. He tried two fingers. It was tight but the boy really wanted it. Above the boy's face was the man's big, muscular, hairy ass. The boy could smell it. It smelled manly, sweaty, inviting. It felt paternal, comforting, protective, safe. And yet, it felt far away. The boy knew he was not supposed to, but he put his hands on the man's hips and gently pulled them towards him, not to actually move them, just to signal that his desire was just too much for him to bear. The man put one knee on the floor and crouched low enough for the boy's mouth to reach his ass. The boy immediately started to devour the man's ass. He licked and kissed and smelled. He grabbed the man's legs, loving how large and heavy they were. The man liked to feel the boy's tongue, but even more his uncontrollable desire. The older boy had moved in front of the man. The man pulled him down and started kissing him while the younger boy was rimming him. The younger boy was completely fascinated by the man's ass. He felt devoted to it. The older boy and the man were each on one knee, kissing. The man was digging the older boy's mouth with his tongue. The older boy never put his tongue in the older man's mouth. The man put a hand on the older boy's shoulder to keep his balance, and then, with his other hand, reached inside of the older boy's ass. The older boy immediately reached for the sides of the man's torso and pulled him towards him. For the older boy too, the cage was preventing this penis from getting erect. Try as it may to get hard, and it was trying, it was staying small and soft. The man's penis was big and hard, and oozing thick precum. The man covered the younger boy's face with his ass, so that both his mouth and his nose would be obstructed. Immediately, the boy removed his hands from the man's hips, to let himself be used that way. The man rubbed his ass on the boy's face. As soon as he felt a shake, showing that the boy needed to breathe, he moved up. The boy breathed in, deep, the scent of the man's ass. It was life-giving and completely masculine. Immediately he wanted it to cover his face again. He opened his eyes and looked at the man's hole. He thought he had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. He felt moved and grateful that he got to even be allowed to see it, to be close to it. But he also got to kiss it, lick it, love it. And the man also trained him to love his hole more by keeping him from using his own penis. The boy kissed the man's asshole gently, full of love. The man's knees started to bother him. He said, "everybody up!" The boys immediately stood up. The man led them to another room where there was a soft raised surface. He put both of them on their backs there. They both knew they were supposed to grab their knees. The man took mild nipple clamps for the younger boy and medium ones for the older boy. The younger boy moaned, "Thank you, Daddy!" The older boy said, "Oh, yes, Daddy!" The man covered both his hands with grease and started playing with both of the boys' holes. They were still pretty tight. After getting them relaxed He could get three fingers in. The older boy was grunting with pleasure. The younger boy was moaning. Sometimes he was yelping. The man asked him, "Does that hurt?" The younger boy answered, "A little bit, but in a good way. I know how it is when it hurts in a bad way and that's not it, Daddy." The man moved his hand upwards and pressed on the boys' prostates. This time, the older boy moaned and the younger boy gasped. The man slowly pulled his hand out of the younger boy's ass and the younger boy shouted, "No!" Then he opened his eyes and looked at the man, pale. He mumbled, "I'm sorry Daddy. I didn't mean to say no to you, but please, please, don't stop now. I don't know what I would do if I stopped feeling you inside of me now." The man smiled gently. He wanted to know how the boy would react. He comforted him and said it was alright. He pushed his fingers back in. He started stimulating both of the boys' prostates again. He thought that maybe he could make them cum, but it was probably better if he waited a bit longer. Al, his friend with the nice playroom, always says "pleasure is second to desire." Al thought it was important to take things slowly with the boys. He had been right so far. He'd always say, "If they don't want more when it's over, you're doing something wrong. The need is already inside of them. All you need to do is awaken it." The man slowly removed his hands from the boys. By that time, both of them were handling the sensations they had been feeling and were feeling too mellow to ask for more. He quickly washed the grease off of his hands. Then, he walked to the mat the boys were on. He removed the nipple clamps from the younger boy. "Breathe in," he said. As the boy breathed in, he kissed him deeply and removed one nipple clamp. The other boy was carressing the man's ass while this was happening. Then the man did the same for the other clamp. Then, he would caress the boy's nipples. He shivered with pleasure. The man licked the boy's nipples. Then he turned to the older boy, the one with the dark hair. Again, he said, with his calm, low voice, "breathe." The older boy breathed in. The man removed a clamp and kissed him. The younger boy had moved under the man's butt and had started kissing his ass. The man let him. The younger boy started licking the man's ass again. The man removed the older boy's second clamp the same way. He pinched the older boy's nipples a bit. The boy moaned, "Daddy..." The man and the older boy kissed. The man stood up, which forced the younger boy to stop rimming him. The man looked a bit concerned. He was thinking of something. There was something he said he'd start with Al, but they had just been so good and so loving, they deserved a treat... He said, "Listen boys..." The boys immediately looked worried. The younger boy immediately asked, "Are you going away?" The man gave a stern look at the boy. The boy corrected himself quickly: "I'm afraid you're going away, Daddy." Abandoning his stern look, the man smiled. He said, "No. It's nothing bad." The younger boy sighed. The man noticed it didn't cross the younger boy's mind to grab the older boy, or for the older boy to grab the younger boy. Neither did they do that while he was away just now. They really had no interest in boys at all. They really were only interested in men. The man went on, "You've both been so good that there's something I would like to try with you." Now he definitely had gotten their interest. "It can be a bit scary at first. I think you'll really like it. But in order for me to do it, I'll have to remove your cages." The younger boy's face lit up. The man said, "That also means that I'll replace it after we're done." The younger boy's face started to show suspicion. The man concluded: "Your cages will be back on no matter what at the end of this." The younger boy remembered how difficult it was to put the cage on the last time he was erect. That time, it was not too bad, he'd use ice to shrink his penis. With the man they visited sometimes, Al, it was much tougher. He would squeeze on his balls until his penis shrank. It was really bad, but also better in a way... Still, he didn't want to go through with it. Not today. The younger boy said, "Is it our...?" He started again, "I wonder if we'll get to try it after this, Daddy." The man smiled and said, "Of course you will! You'll be able to try it later, with Al." The younger boy immediately exclaimed, "I love Al!" The man said, "I know you do. But if you want to try it before..." Then he thought to himself, "Al is not going to like not being the first. That's pretty selfish of me. But they've just been so good." The older boy said, "I'll try it." The man thought, "That's actually for the best. Al will prefer working on Ted anyway. I'll start with Greg and Ted will have an idea of how it works." The man said, "Okay. I'll get the stuff I need. I'll unlock you, wash you, and when we're done, I'll wash you again and lock you back up. Is that understood?" The boy said, "Yes, Daddy." The younger boy stared, fascinated. The man added, "The same rules apply as when you're locked up, though." The boy understood that orgasm was not on the table. Anyway, he had started to understand how that rule was for his own good as well. The man removed the cage and freed the older boy's penis while the younger boy was watching. The older boy wondered how the man was going to get it clean while guaranteeing that no accident would happen. Warmth and soap would be enough. He was certain of it. But the man simply used ice-cold water. The younger boy's penis stayed soft all the time. It was a bit uncomfortable, but it was still wonderfully arousing in some complex way. They all went back to the room they had just come from. There was a table there with restraints. The man told the boy to get on it. He did so eagerly. Immediately, his penis was rock hard. He had an almost uncontrollable urge to stroke it. The man attached the older boy's wrists and ankles to the corners of the table. The older boy could see his penis pulsating with each of his heart-beats. The man severely told the younger boy, "Stay back. Do not come near. This is important." The man was almost never severe. This must really be important. The man took a black pouch, lube and rubber gloves. From the pouch he extracted a paper sleeve. He put on the rubber gloves and from the paper sleeve he took out a metal rod. He put lube on the rod and on the tip of the boy's penis. He said, "You can look if you want. If you do, it will be scary. But I promise you it will be worth it." The boy said, "I'm okay." His head was resting on the table on a small cushion. He was not looking. The younger boy was staring, fascinated. He had an idea of what was going to happen, but he was sure he was wrong. When the man placed one end of the metal rod near the tip of the older boy's penis, the younger boy looked away, covering his eyes with the crook of his arm. The man said, "Breathe in." The older boy started breathing in but immediately said, "Oh, wow! This is... I can't believe this!" The rod was slowly sinking into his penis, pulled in by its own weight. The man pulled it up and let it sink again. The boy said, "Daddy! You're the best Daddy in the world!" The man started rubbing the head of the boy's penis while the rod was deep inside. The younger boy was staring again. The man could tell that he wanted it too, now. The man added some lube. The boy started to struggle against his restraints. The feeling of being restrained away from his penis, away from the source of that sensation made him feel even deeper under the man's control. He loved every aspect of it. He wanted to be kissed by the man, he wanted to lick the man's ass, he wanted to be given by the man to be used by other men, as he had been before, but not often enough. The rod still felt cold. The boy could feel like he had no control at all over how deep it was invading his body. It meant that the man's presence was now deep inside of him. It was good. The man said, "Let's see if we can do better." He took another rod and put some lube on it. Again, he first pushed it through the opening of the tip of the boy's penis and then let it sink in. It was a little bit thicker. But it could still fit. It was unpleasant at first, but soon, it felt even better. The boy started moaning, "Daddy..." The man smiled gently. The boy said, "I will do everything you want of me, Daddy." The man thought, "They really are such good boys!" After he was done sounding the older boy, he gave him a deep kiss. When that was done, he unbound him, again washed his penis in cold water and locked it back up. Then all three of them snuck into bed and cuddled. The younger boy quickly made his way to the man's penis, trying to lick up the man's precum. The man thought, "He still doesn't understand that there is more to a man than just that body part." But he let him do it. He was doing his best to be a good dad. You can reach me at [email protected]
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/danger-twink/danger-twink-1.html	Danger Twink Chapter 1 Danger Twink by Randy MacAnus © 2023 All Rights Reserved By The Author If you would like to see the story continue, you can email me with your opinions and suggestions at: [email protected] This is fantasy. I try to make my stories seem at least plausible. For example the depiction of Greenwich Village in the late 1960s is as accurate as my memory allows. But none of this ever happened. At least not to me. I should be so lucky. If you have ideas about directions you might like the story to take, by all means include them. Nifty is a wonderful free service, that all of us enjoy. However, it costs actual money to run. Please consider making a donation to Nifty. Chapter 1 “You're sure that's him?” “Not a doubt in my mind, Mike. That's the bastard that mugged me.” I took a picture of the guy with the telephoto lens on my 35mm SLR camera. If this was the right guy, he had mugged and/or raped a half dozen gay men—that I knew of. Men who were my friends. He had taken their wallets, and later, with their addresses in hand had likely been the one who robbed their apartments. My name is Mike. I'm long since retired, but back in 1967, I had a little side business, finding, whoring out, and enslaving gay bashers, who took advantage of the gay community in New York City. This was before Stonewall. Gay men were very vulnerable. Being outed would often cost them their jobs. We never went to the police for anything. The police in Greenwich Village (and the city as a whole) were predators, as far as my friends and I were concerned. So unless hospitalization was required, we never called the cops, if we were robbed or assaulted. A gay man in the back of a squad car could expect to have to bribe his way out of a trumped up charge, with cash, and often with a blow job. And servicing a cop was never fun, back then. And there were criminals who knew all this, and took full advantage. If they didn't beat you bad enough to put you in the hospital, they were just about guaranteed to get away with whatever they did. So I decided to do something about it. It was risky. I had to make myself vulnerable. And since I was a twink back then, people thought I couldn’t take care of myself. But my friends knew better. It’s why my nickname at the time, was Danger Twink. This particular piece of shit would either pretend to be a hustler, or just come on to someone who was clearly gay. Once they were in a reasonably quiet place, he might get himself a blow job, then either knock the man out, or pull a knife and demand his wallet. Guys fell into the trap, because he was so damn beautiful. He was over18, but I figured under 21. He often picked up his victims in gay bars. This wasn't a problem for him, because at the time, the drinking age in New York was 18. He was a classic young stud. Six feet, 180 pounds, defined but lean, with black hair and big blue eyes. Didn't have to shave yet. He was very masculine, without having to work at it. He clearly thought of himself as straight, and the blow jobs he received may well have been a power trip for him. He was almost never passive, preferring to fuck his victim's throat brutally, before knocking him out and taking his wallet. I knew that he had accepted a couple of blow jobs passively from young, good looking tops, who would never have tolerated having their throats fucked. These were men who always insisted on being in control. But they paid a price. They were the ones who were beaten the worst. He had even risked putting a couple of them in the hospital. We followed the little bastard for a couple of hours, until he went to his apartment. Now we knew where he lived. He was staying in a weekly rent hotel in the village. Good. No one there would care, or be especially surprised, when he simply “moved out.” I continued to watch him over the next two weeks. He didn't have a job. Not a surprise. He also didn't seem to have any friends. Certainly not a girl friend (or boy friend.) I saw him rob an apartment of a friend of mine he had mugged about a week before. This was the guy. As good looking as he was, he would have been remembered, so he never went to the same bar twice. And he rarely went to a bar in the village. Instead he went to gay neighborhoods in other parts of Manhattan, to reduce the risk of being recognized. I wanted him in the village, so I was going to have to approach him on the street. He often ate at the diner on Sheridan Square, and his walk home took him down Bleeker Street, past Marie's Crisis and the original Duplex. I was a very good looking young man myself, back then. I was a 21 year old muscle twink. Not bulky, but great definition. Strawberry blond hair, big blue eyes about 5 foot 8 inches and perhaps 140 pounds. Not an ounce of fat on me (then). I may have looked vulnerable, but when it came to Gay Bashers, I was pure predator. Very similar to the men he had been passive with. I was and am, a total top. I was very well dressed, as were virtually all of his victims. I figured a big stud like that wasn't likely to feel threatened by a little guy like me. And I was pretty darn adorable. It was easier for his type to be passive with someone he didn't see as a true challenge to his masculinity—or health. Plus, I actually looked younger than he did. I stood in the doorway to the Duplex waiting for him to walk by. When I saw him coming, I made like I was just leaving the bar, and heading to Marie's for a nightcap. I made eye contact with him, and said, “Hey good looking, how about I buy you a drink, before I fuck your brains out?” I got just the reaction I wanted. A flicker of anger, maybe even rage in his eyes, before he got that under control. He looked directly down into my eyes and quietly said, “I don't do anal, and I don't give head. I might let you blow me, if you make it worth my while.” “Well, what do you know? The pretty teen stud is a top.” (Another flash of anger in his eyes.) “I tell you what, sweetie. I will blow you, and you won't have to do anything in return, but I will be in total control of our encounter. You will be passive. If you try to fuck my throat, I'll kick your ass. (He smirked at that. He wouldn't have, had he known I was a black belt.) And you are going to be naked. And my hands and mouth are going to roam your entire body. And you are going to hold a nice display position throughout our little adventure.” I absolutely loved the cold stare I was getting from him! He took a very long moment sizing me up, before responding. “I don't think you can afford what I would charge for that.” “Try me.” “$100.” Keep in mind, that in 1967, giving a good looking teen a blow job would typically cost five bucks. But I didn't bat an eye. “Sure. You still want that drink?” “Or two.” I grinned, put my hand on his shoulder, and led him into Marie's. It was a quiet Tuesday, and still early, before the piano player started, so the tables and stools were out. “What do you drink?” “With you buying? Remy Martin.” I laughed. “Sure, kid no problem. Just don't tell me you want to screw up a fine Cognac with a coke chaser.” The kid actually smiled. Too bad he was such a shit. He had a nice smile. I returned with the drinks, and we sat in silence for several minutes. Apparently, he wasn't used to his marks being quiet, because he was getting a bit antsy. Perhaps as a result of his obvious anxiety, he drank his two drinks a bit too quickly. His pretty blue eyes were now slightly glazed. Finally he said, “I don't know about this. Being naked with a stranger. And what's a display position?” “You keep that hot studly body of yours fully open to me. You keep your hands behind your head, elbows out to the side, and your legs at least shoulder width apart at all times. What will make you more comfortable about being naked?” “Not at your place or mine, and not in public. And what if I forget to hold the position?” “You follow all my rules, then no problem. If you disobey me, you will either accept whatever painful punishment I choose, or you won't get paid.” That brought him up short. He clearly had no interest in any form of pain... at least not pain for him. He also had no interest in not getting paid. Ironic, as he intended to steal whatever I had in my wallet anyway. “I'm not into that.” “If I'm going to pay top dollar, the last thing I'm going to care about is what you're into. But I tell you what. You wear a spreader bar between your legs, and a collar with wrist restraints to prevent you from grabbing my head, and you won't be able to leave the display position or have to worry about punishment. And I promise to get you off twice.” “Naked?” “Of course.” “Now I want $200!” It was a test. I didn't bat an eye. “Deal. But not a hotel. The adult book store down the street has a basement where guys go to fuck and suck. I know the guy who works the night shift. There is a private room we can use. More of a closet really, but the door locks. And he has the restraints, so I won't have to go home to get mine.” “I gotta think about it.” “Don't take too long.” With that, I pulled a pill case out of my pocket, took out a pill, and pretended to swallow it. I palmed it and put it back in the pill case then took a drink of my water chaser. “What was that?” He seemed very interested. “It's a muscle relaxer called Soma. Mellows me out.” “I want one.” “Okay.” I handed him the pill I hadn't taken, and the rest of my water chaser. He swallowed it right down. I had about a half hour before it really kicked in. You see Soma is a muscle relaxer, used to relieve spasms. And it reacts with alcohol. In about thirty minutes the kid's muscles would turn to rubber, and he would be as woozy and confused as he would have been after at least a half dozen drinks. Kids... Am I Right? “Okay, but no restraints.” “If you hold the position, fine. If you fail, and you want to avoid considerable pain, you will submit to restraints.” After a long pause, during which we never broke eye contact: “Okay.” “Let's go.” It wasn't a question. I wasn't asking permission. It was already clear the kid could be dominated if he thought there was something in it for him. In fact, I began to suspect there was a strong submissive streak that he was trying desperately to bury. Sure enough, he got up and allowed me to put my arm around his waist and lead him out the door. I brought him to the back door of the book store for two reasons. First, I couldn't have brought him in the front. In 1967, you could drink at 18, but you couldn't go into an adult bookstore until you were 21. Then, as now, laws and regulations can be more than a little inconsistent. Second, I didn't want him to be seen. As good looking as he was, he would be unforgettable in this environment. There was always the chance someone out there might report him missing. If that happened, I didn't want a trail. My buddy let us in. I told him what I needed in the way of restraints and toys. He grinned, led us to the closet, and went to fetch what I had asked for. He had been expecting us, of course, but I didn't know what, if any gear I would need, until things had played out. The building was over a century old and very well made. The play area was in the basement. The basement walls were solid rock, as was our little room. Everything was painted black. The high closet ceiling had a single bare bulb hanging overhead. The closet was separate from the play area. It was on the first floor, in the back. The closet had a shower head, a drain in the floor and a slop sink, but nothing else. The cleaning stuff was kept in a separate closet. As the kid looked around, more than a little spooked, my buddy knocked on the door and left. Sitting outside the door was the gear I'd asked for. I grabbed the items I'd described to my teen victim, and left the rest outside the door. “Hey, I'm not too sure about this. This place is really creepy.” “$200.” “I want the money now!” “My wallet is with my friend, for safe keeping. Assume the position. If you hold it, you won't be wearing these restraints.” He relaxed a little when I said that. Except for the shivering. I began by kneeling in front of him. With me on my knees, he relaxed a bit. This was less intimidating for him. Slowly, I began to undress him. By the time I stood, it would already be too late for him. I removed his shoes and socks. He lifted each foot for me. He leaned back against the wall, and seemed to relax a bit. I still had about ten or fifteen minutes before the Soma kicked in. I unbuckled his belt, and unbuttoned his 501s, pulling them down to his ankles. He started breathing harder, and did not lift his feet for me. So I pulled his white briefs down to his ankles as well. He still didn't lift his feet. He just leaned against the wall, his eyes closed, and let out a little moan. I wasn't going to force his feet up. “Lift your right foot.” There was nothing to be gained by resisting me. He lifted his right foot, and I pulled his jeans and shorts from his ankle. The process was now repeated with the left. At that moment, the only thing he was wearing was his white tee shirt. It was the last piece of clothing he would ever wear, and the last moment he wore it. I looked up into his pretty blue eyes, and said, “Remove your shirt.” Slowly, he complied. I took his clothes, and placed them all in the slop sink. I got back on my knees in front of him, and sure enough he made the mistake I was waiting for. He grabbed my head. Force of habit, perhaps. I removed his hands from my head and stood. “I warned you what would happen if you failed to hold the display position. But I will cut you some slack. If you agree to restraints instead of severe pain, I will only use the collar and wrist restraints. You kept your feet shoulder width, so I won’t use the spreader bar—yet.” After a long hesitation, he agreed. I turned around and grabbed the collar and wrist restraints. Looking into his eyes, I ordered him to hold out his hands. He swallowed hard, then complied. I attached the wrist restraints, already locked to the collar, then slowly moved the collar to his neck, and padlocked it in place. We never broke eye contact. It was very satisfying, watching the look in his eyes transition from lust to fear. “Stand up straight. Keep your hands behind your head, elbows out to the side at all times. Failure to obey will mean severe pain or further restraint.” His eyes flashed anger, but he wisely chose to say nothing. He did as instructed. He had a magnificent body, and clearly felt he was still the one who was really in control. His overconfidence in his physical dominance, and the fact he knew my wallet was with my buddy, were the only things that kept me in control without resorting to violence. He had a good looking circumcised dick, slightly above average in size and girth. It wasn't hard yet, so I would have to wait and see what arose. To his surprise, I remained on my feet. If he was expecting that I would just drop to me knees and blow him, he was going to be very disappointed. I remained standing, with my hands slowly rubbing his six pack, while my mouth and teeth were working his nips, one at a time. I heard a sharp intake of breath, any time I nibbled. He was breathing harder now, still holding the position, and looking at me in surprise. Perhaps no one had actually worked his nips before. Finally, the Soma kicked in. I saw his eyes glaze over. Balance had become an issue for him, and he could only lean against the wall. I went to the door and retrieved the bag with the rest of the toys. “Open your mouth wide.” He looked dazed and confused, but complied. I inserted a ball gag and buckled it behind his head. As he was no longer in a position to object, I placed the spreader bar between his ankles. He panicked a little at that, but a hard look from me settled him down. He realized he was helpless, and no one but me and my buddy had any idea where he was, or cared. He began to whimper. I found this amusing. His hard, helpless, naked body was now on full display, for my personal pleasure. Other than pits and pubes, his body was hairless. He didn't even need to shave yet. Soon the pits and pubes would be permanently removed. Pussy boy sex slaves don't get to have body hair, if I own them. “You need to listen very carefully to what I am about to tell you. You have a decision to make. It will affect the rest of your life. Are you listening?” His eyes had grown wide as I spoke. He nodded his head at my question. “My friends and I know who you are. We have been following you for the last two weeks. It’s bad enough that you have been robbing my friends. But you have also been beating on them. In a number of cases, they’ve wound up in the hospital.” I could see the panic in his eyes. Good. There needed to be no question in his mind, that he was in deep poop. “You’re a loner. As far as we can tell, we could do anything we want with you, and no one would know or care. And we believe you will richly deserve whatever happens to you. You have no good options. You don’t deserve any options. But we are going to give you options. You will hate them all. But you will have to pick one. Do you understand?” He nodded. I saw both terror and hope flickering through his eyes. This pleased me. “You have been careful to pick victims who would never report your crimes, because they are vulnerable to losing their jobs and being beaten and harassed by the police, and other gay bashers like you. It’s the only reason you’re not in prison, where you belong. And a young pretty boy like you in prison, would be gang fucked daily. You know that, right?” He nodded. “I took your room key and storage locker key out of your pants. My other friends will soon be cleaning out everything in that weekly rent room of yours. And because we’ve been following you, we know where your storage locker is. By this time tomorrow, everything you have will be gone. It’s all stolen, so where possible, the stuff you took will be returned to the rightful owners. By this time tomorrow night, you will have nothing. You’ve never had a job or friends. And you won’t have money, belongings, or even clothes. Your only asset will be that hot naked body of yours.” The look on his face was priceless! “You are going to suffer for your crimes. But we can’t just call the police. They would shut this place down, and likely arrest everyone here. That’s the kind of thing you’ve been counting on to keep you out of prison. But there are other ways to punish you.” It amused me to see that his dick was getting hard. Did our total top, gay bashing thief really have a submissive streak? “No matter what choice you make, you will find yourself at the mercy of others. I should add that actual mercy will be in very short supply.” His dick got harder. “Choice number one: We put you on the street near The Anvil, just as you are—naked, bound and gagged. We call the police, to report a naked pervert. They arrest you. If you are lucky you won’t be beaten. It will be a surprise to me, if you don’t have to suck off at least one cop on your way to jail. You will be charged with indecent exposure, and lewd conduct at the very least. You will be sent to Riker’s Island prison. Depending on the judge and their mood, it could be for anywhere from 30 to 90 days. You can expect to be taking a whole lot of cock in both ends.” He started to hyperventilate. “When you are released, they will give you something to wear. It may not include underwear and socks, and it probably won’t fit very well. You will have no money and no place to live. If you’ve been beaten and bruised, or you are fucked out, you won’t even be able to get a pimp. Your picture will have been posted in every gay bar in town. Your scam won’t work any more.” He began to moan softly. “The police will take your fingerprints. You will have a record as a sex pervert. If you are wanted elsewhere, they will find that out, when they run your prints. You will have no money, so you won’t even be able to buy a bus ticket out of the city. Any time one of my friends finds you, they will strip you naked and leave you for the police all over again.” A tear began to run down his cheek. “Do you like that Option?” He shook his head no. “Option number two: I leave you here in the custody of my buddy, to be trained as a submissive whore. The men in the basement will have use of you, until the consensus is, that you have become an elite cocksucker, and an excellent pussy boy. You will remain naked, collared and restrained the entire time you are here. When your skill levels are where we want them, you will be sold to a pimp.” He began to tremble. “You will be his property. He will house and feed you, but you will receive no money. If he gives you anything to wear, it will be minimal and very slutty. Once you are too old or too fucked out to earn your keep, he will dump your ass in the street. Depending on how good a whore you have been, he might give you something to wear. Or you could find yourself naked on the street, and facing option one. Do you like that option?” He shook his head no. “Do you prefer it to option one?” He nodded. Good. Progress. He’s willing to make a choice. “Option 3: I train you to be a sex slave. You agree that you are my property to use in any way I please. My friends and I will use you. Whether you get used by the men in the basement of this place, will depend on your attitude and how fast you are learning to be a bottom bitch boy. If you are not learning fast enough, I will bring you here, where there are a lot more cocks for you to practice on.” He whimpered, then nodded. And his dick began to drip! “You will remain naked and bound. Once you are trained to my standards, instead of selling you to a pimp, I will sell you at auction to an individual. You will belong to the highest bidder, no matter who he is, and no matter what he plans to do with and to you. No one will ever see you again. The bidders I invite are wealthy, and all live overseas—mainly in third world countries. In those countries, slavery is technically illegal, but if you were to escape somehow, the police would return you to your owner, for a reward.” His eyes went wide, as he realized there would be no possible escape. The reality of a lifetime of slavery was sinking in. “Your owner will probably not be white. An Arab, or a Black African are the most likely possibilities. The Asians who bid will not be buying you as a personal slave. They will give you female hormones, and tits, to turn you into what they call a lady boy. You ill work in an Asian whorehouse for years, before being sold off. I ave no idea what your new owner will want from you, and I don’t care.” Tears were running down his cheeks. I found out later, that in addition to being a homophobe, he was also a racist. Not a surprise, and very satisfying. “If you are purchased by an Arab, he will almost certainly have your cock and balls cut off. That way, when you no longer interest him, he can make you an attendant for his harem, without you being able to fuck his wives. Even if you get to keep your cock and balls, you won’t have any use for them. In fact you can expect to be severely punished, any time you have an orgasm. Do you understand?” His eyes grew very wide, and he began to tremble. But he eventually nodded. “That’s a lot of information to process. I will give you a few minutes to think everything through, while I get rid of your clothes.” He whimpered as I retrieved his clothes from the slop sink, and walked out the door. I gave them to my buddy, (whose name is actually Buddy,) and updated him on the situation. After about ten minutes, I returned to the closet. “I am going to remove the ball gag. If you scream, no one will hear you, and no one here would care or interfere if they did. But a scream would annoy me, and there will be severe punishment if I hear one. Understood?” He nodded. I removed the ball gag and he remained quiet. “Do you have any questions?” “Could you maybe just sell me to an American White man?” “Not a chance. As far as I’m concerned, any of these options are still better than what you deserve. And I don’t really care which one you choose. Any other questions?” He shook his head. “Have you made a choice?” He nodded. “Which option will you take?” “To be your slave.” “Why?” “At least I’ll have a roof over my head and food. And I figure if a an is going to pay money for me, he’ll probably at least keep me healthy.” “Do you have any family or friends that would look for you?” He shook his head. “Very well. From this moment you are, at your own request, my property. You have no rights. You no longer have options. From this moment you will address me as ‘Master’, and all other men as ‘Sir’. You will remain naked and collared, quite possibly for the rest of your life. No matter what I, or any future owner does with you or to you, I expect you to submit without hesitation or attitude. Is that understood?” “Yes, Master.” I lowered him to his knees. He did not resist. I pushed his head back, warned him to maintain eye contact at all times, pulled out my rock hard seven inches, and placed the head in his mouth. He took about half of it into his mouth and sucked on it a little. I was not amused. I grabbed the back of his head and shoved my man rammer down his throat. He panicked and began to struggle. “If you’re a good boy, and satisfy me with your mouth and tongue, I’ll pull back into your mouth and let you breathe.” He nodded compliance. He sucked—and by that, I mean he was awful at cock sucking. Not really a surprise. He had never done it before. And were it not for the mess he had gotten himself into, it’s likely that he never would have. He made the mistake of looking down, so I took the opportunity to pull out my Polaroid camera. “Look at me!” He looked up, and I took a Polaroid of him naked, restrained, and on his knees, with my dick in his mouth. A man losing his oral virginity should have it documented! He pulled back, and said, “What the fuck?!” “Didn’t you want the moment you became a cocksucker documented for all time?” “Fuck no!” “Too bad. You’re a slave now. And you clearly need training, boy. Your lack of skill and interest are very disappointing. At the rate you’re going, I’ll either have to fuck your throat, or do without an orgasm. Ask me to fuck your throat, or I will take you into the play room, and give you to anyone and everyone who wants use you.” His fate was beginning to become reality for him. I could see it in his eyes. The panic and despair were palpable. He gulped and pleaded, “Please Master, fuck my throat. I’ll work hard and learn to be better for you. I promise!” “Prove it!” And finally, he began to make an effort. Unskilled, but determined. I gave him about 30 seconds before I penetrated his throat. He gagged of course. I gave him instructions for getting his gag reflex under control. It took him some time, but slowly he made adequate progress. This pleased me. I didn’t want him barfing on my dick. And now, when I pulled back into his throat, he was making a real effort to use his tongue to please. I continued instructing him. He listened and learned. It took him a good twenty minutes, but he finally got me off—and swallowed without being told to. Apparently, getting gang banged by 20 or 30 strangers in a public playroom was not at the top of his list of favorite pastimes. Maybe that would change once he’d had that experience—not that I cared. “Better. Not good enough, but you’ll get plenty of practice. If you listen to the instructions you receive, and act on them, as you did just now, you will reduce the number of cocks you have to suck during your training. In any event you are now officially a cocksucker.” He blushed furiously, and looked down at my feet. “Did I give you permission to break eye contact slave? That’s twice now! Clearly, you need to be punished.” His head snapped back up, and gave me a frightened and pleading look. He had the good sense not to speak. I put the ball gag back in his mouth, raised him up, then bent him over the slop sink. As he quietly whimpered. I pulled a paddle out of the toy bag, and went to work on that amazing ass. Personally, I wanted him to hate everything I did to him. He was being punished after all. Hate it, but always obey. (Or better yet, hate it until he likes it!) He would eventually figure out that no matter how awful he thought things were, they could always get worse. After twenty smacks to each cheek, he was a sobbing mess. I had he pleasure of pointing out to him that his dick was hard. (Turned out he was shower, not a grower. 4 inches soft, 4 inches hard.) If he found pain erotic, it would make it easier and more enjoyable to fuck with his head. I enjoy that almost as much as fucking a hot body! And speaking of fucking… “Slave it’s time to turn your butt hole into a boy pussy. When I remove your ball gag, I expect you to ask me very politely to fuck your ass.” I removed the gag, interested to see how much push back I would receive. But he was learning fast. “Please Master, may I have the privilege of being fucked by your amazing cock.” I didn’t really think he meant it, but I heard no sarcasm in his request, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt—and the benefit of my cock! I put the ball gag back in his mouth. I didn’t want to wreck that fantastic ass. I was costing myself enough money, just by taking his anal virginity. People pay more at auction for virgins. So I began with lubed fingers, until his boy pussy was relaxed. Then I lubed my cock and slowly entered that wonderful ass. His whimpering turned to a sustained moan of agony as my cock penetrated his sphincter. And I never stopped slowly pushing. By the time I was balls deep he was back to whimpering. I gave him a good two minutes to adjust. And I gave him instructions during that time. “Your only purpose in life is to give pleasure to your owner, and anyone he tells you to please. Do you understand?” He nodded as he whimpered. “That pleasure could take any form he wishes—from serving his cock, to performing humiliating tasks, to causing you pain. And you will always do your very best to please, won’t you?” He nodded again, as tears streamed down his cheeks. “When being fucked, your only thought should be how best to please the man using you. To do that you will never fight the penetration of a cock into the body your Master owns. You will relax whichever hole is being used, to show your enthusiasm at being penetrated. When a cock in your ass is pulling back, you will squeeze down as hard as you can. This will increase the intensity of pleasure for the man you are serving, and prove how grateful you are to be filled with a real man’s cock. Do you understand?” Again, he nodded. He even made a feeble attempt at saying, “Yes, Master” through the ball gag. I slowly pulled back, and was pleased that he was making an effort to squeeze down. As soon as I started to push back in, he relaxed, allowing easy penetration. He wasn’t as good as he was going to be when my friends and I were through with him, but it was a good beginning. And it showed real progress in changing his attitude. I had fucked his throat first, because I wanted the ass fucking to last. And I wanted him to cum. If he reached an orgasm without his dick being touched, that would really fuck with his head. And it would give him motivation to continue learning and improving his skills. I slowly picked up the pace, and my newly minted pussy boy began to moan. I was hitting his prostate with every stroke, and his cock was once again, rock hard and dripping. As I began to really plow his ass, he began to push back hard with every penetration. And as he reached his orgasm, he let out a satisfying wail of ecstasy and regret. I later found that he believed that having an orgasm, from being fucked by another man, and with nothing touching his dick, meant he had to be a gay bottom boy—something he had almost violently denied to himself since puberty. He knew nothing about the prostate. And I chose to leave him in the dark on that subject! I had him return to his knees, and lick my cock and balls clean. He wasn’t exactly enthusiastic, but he didn’t hesitate, and did a workmanlike job. “So how does it feel to officially be a submissive little pussy boy?” A small sob escaped his lips. He couldn’t look up at me. I decided he needed more training. Buddy had been very helpful in getting this bastard off the street, and I figured he deserved a treat. “You need more practice, slave. You remember my buddy, who let us in? Well, he’s going to use you next. If he is satisfied with your efforts, I may, or may not, decide to let you sleep for the rest of the night. If he is not satisfied, your next stop will be the play room.” Clearly, the thought of a trip to the play room was a real motivator for my new slave. “I’ll do my best, Master.” Part of Buddy’s salary was free rent on a small studio apartment at the back of the store. I covered the store for him for the next two hours, as he made good use of our new slave. When he returned he looked tired and happy. “That boy has potential!” Buddy enthused. “Do you think he needs to be sent to the playroom?” “Of course, but not tonight. He has a lot to figure out. Before I used him, I put his clothes in the fireplace and burned them, while he watched. I’m pretty sure that broke him. He’s still got a lot to learn about giving real men pleasure, but he’s trying, listening and learning. I fucked his throat first, then his ass, then went back to his throat. Toward the end, he got his gag reflex under better control, and buried his nose in my pubes. I figure you should use him again tonight, then let him sleep. I’m pretty sure he’ll be completely compliant when we take him down to the playroom tomorrow night.” “Did he cum when you fucked him?” “Oh, hell yes! No way I was going to cum before he did. What better way to get him addicted to cock?” I grinned and nodded, then headed to Buddy’s little apartment. That nasty-ass gay basher was looking positively delicious! He was lying face up on Buddy’s bed, collared, with his wrists restrained to the D ring on the back, and his legs held wide open by the spreader bar. He was ball-gagged, and holding his elbows out to the side, as instructed. And as I opened the door his cute little dick went hard. “I’m going to fuck your boy pussy again. I expect you to maintain eye contact the whole time. The punishment you received the last time you broke eye contact will be doubled if you fail again.” His eyes went wide at the thought, and he nodded understanding. I had fucked him while he was bent over the slop sink. Buddy had fucked him doggy style. Now he would be on his back with his legs up by his ears. I grabbed the spreader bar, and pushed it up above his head. I had lubed my cock before entering the room. So I was able to enter my slave immediately. He drew in a deep breath when he felt my cock touch his entrance. And he relaxed and pushed back, as he had been taught. I made a slow steady penetration until my pubes were touching those hot, tight butt cheeks. That took his breath away, and caused a moaning whimper. It also caused his little cock to plump up. I was sure, by the time his training was complete, that our former gay bashing thief, was going to be an enthusiastic, submissive cock hound. I looked into those pretty blue eyes, and saw a whole range of emotions. But as his fucking progressed, his eyes glazed over into a state of pure lust. I varied my pace over at least a half hour. By then he was begging me to fuck him harder, never forgetting to call me Master. I’d had him on edge for at least 15 minutes, when I finally decided it was time. I began pounding his ass relentlessly, powering my man meat in and out of his boy pussy, as he moaned and begged for more. As he got close, I rolled his ass up higher, so that his cock was directly over his face. Finally, he shot his load all over his face and into his mouth. As I shot my load into his guts, he whimpered and said, “Thank you Master.” I fed him the cum that had landed on his face, and he ate it without complaint. His facial expression indicated he didn’t like it one bit, but he made no effort to avoid it. He also made no effort to avoid cleaning my cock and balls with his tongue, as I sat on his face. I came away feeling that good progress had been made in training the pretty punk. Buddy, myself, and a couple more friends would use him during the day, tomorrow. His progress would have to be remarkable, if he was going to avoid a trip to the playroom tomorrow night. I inserted the ball gag. Then I attached a strap around his ball sac, and a leash to the strap. It was truly enjoyable watching him waddle down the hall, because of the spreader bar. I led him back to the closet by his balls, and chained his collar to a leg of the slop sink. The chain was short. He wouldn’t even be able to sit up. “This is where you’ll sleep tonight. You will be locked in. Slaves don’t deserve to sleep in a bed.” He nodded, a defeated look on his face. I turned out the light, leaving him in total darkness, and locked the door. Today had been a painful and terrifying shock for him. Tomorrow would be worse. ********** I love hearing from readers. Those emails are a big part of my motivation to write. And I certainly don't mind constructive criticism. It's how I learn. Ideas and suggestions are also welcome. You can email me at: [email protected] *
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/ranger-dave/ranger-dave-2	Date: Thu, 22 Jun 2023 20:05:00 -0400 From: buddbuster <[email protected]> Subject: Confronting Ranger Dave Chapter 2 Ranger Dave Series: Chapter 2 Remember to donate to Nifty, without your donations this website wouldn't be possible! Description: Alaskan tourist Ray and Park Ranger Dave continue their wrestling match in the Park... will Dave be declared the winner or will Ray triumph and become the new alpha in Alaska!! Protagonists: Ray : Avid Outdoorsman traveling Alaska; 55 years; 5'6" and 190lbs Ranger Dave : Park Ranger; 60 years; 5'10" and 290lbs ---------- CHAPTER 2- written from Ray's perspective Chapter 2: Who's The Alpha! As I have the big Ranger Dave restrained in reverse head scissors, I notice a big bulge in the big boy's briefs. "Oh yeah, you like that, fat boy, don't you?" I say laughing hard. I am intrigued by the hard-on so I reach forward to pull his briefs down. His hard dick plops out and is pointing right at me. I wrap my fist around his cock and start stroking his shaft. A series of big moans squeeze out between Ranger Dave's mouth and my ass cheeks. "Oh yeah, the fat pig likes his ass owned by other men, doesn't it?" Even louder moans are enough of an answer for me. I have enough of the playing for now. I reach down even further and put a vicious claw hold on him! That brings big Dave back to life. He starts struggling hard to get out from under me. He calls me every name in the book as he cried out in pain! With a lot of effort, he is able to get his arms free and grab me from behind. He throws me to the side and puts a reverse bear hug on me. We roll around and he lands on his back with me on top of him. This allows him to turn the bear hug into a Nelson with his stubby legs wrapped around me in body scissors! As he wrapped those massive legs around my waist, I feel his hard-on digging into my back! "You like that fucker?" he growls while breathing hard. The tables have turned. I am trapped as he squeezes the breath out of me! He has me writhing in both pain and pleasure as his bear dick digs into my back. As his legs are rubbing my boner, he reaches around and starts twisting my man nipples! Now I am the one moaning. "So who is the pussy now?" he says as he has me close to tabbing out. Just as I am contemplating giving in, I catch a lucky break. Fat Dave's leg--the one I twisted earlier--locks up in a cramp. He yells out in pain and has to let his scissors go. I take advantage of the confusion to pry open his arms and break free. I roll away and get to my feet. Fat Dave is up as well, much faster than I anticipated. I don't want to give him enough time to plan out a strategy so I attack him right away. We are engaged in a standing wrestling match eventually grabbing each other's arms trying to push each other to the ground. To my surprise, I am able to overpower the big guy and push him to his knees. "FUCK" I hear him mumble, as he get's outmuscled. As he kneels in front of me, I take my knee and launch it into his gut. "OOooofff," I hear as he groans in pain. He is off balance again and I push him over and on his back. He tries to get up but I take my foot and push him back down. He tries again only to be pushed again. After about 10 tries he's getting tired and just stays there laying on his back. I put my foot on his chest and pose over him. He lets it happen. "You give now, fat fucker, or do you want more of a beating?" "Go to hell" he says in between hard breaths. I pull him up by his head. He gets on his feet but is clearly winded. "You need a minute, big pussy?" "Screw you," he moans as he leaps forward. I sidestep his clumsy attempt and wrap my arm around his neck as he stumbles by me. I got him in a strangle hold and squeeze hard. He whimpers and moans. His big arms flailing. He grabs my arm and tries to pry it away from his neck but he's exhausted and I seem to be physically stronger than him at this point in the match. He gasps as his knees first weaken and then give. I let go of him. It is too early to finish him off. "Take your time, fucker. You can do it," I taunt as he breath's hard and struggles back to his feet. I wait for him to be upright again. "Come on, pussy, hit me with your best shot" I taunt even more. He get's angry and launches a wild fist toward me. I catch his fist, wrestle his arm to his back, and put him in a good hammerlock. He moan as I have his big arm trapped and his shoulder in pain. He rises to his toes to take some of the pressure off. I let him go after a while and give him time to recover again. In an attempt to surprise me, he quickly turns around and swings at my gut. I see it just in time to tense up and his blow doesn't do too much damage. In retribution, I respond with and uppercut to his chin followed by a fist to his mid-section. He groans as he collapses to his knees. In an effort to not go down completely, he hangs on to my waistband and is pulling down my trunks. I take advantage of the situation, pull his head up by his hair and slip my dick in his wide open mouth. "Mmmmmmpffffff" I hear as I grab the back of his head and make him take it all. His throat feels good ,so I start plowing it rhythmically and vigorously while my hands are holding it in place. For a while, Big Dave lets it happen. His big and once powerful arms hold on to my legs as his throat is getting owned. To test how much fight he has left in him, I pull out my dick and let go of his head. Dave looks up at me confused but remains in place, so I start rocking side-to-side, dick slapping the big guy's face. Pre-cum is spreading as my cock is punishing the big man's mouth and cheeks. Damn, this is turning me on big time. I got to stop before I blow my load too early. I decide to pull my trunks back up and get the big guy back to his feet. I grab him by his neck and arm and push him into the side of his truck. I pin his face against the passenger window and reach around to grab his hard man meat. I start stroking him good causing loud moans squeezed in between hard breaths. I could have made him cum right then and there, but instead decide to turn him around. I trap one of his right arms behind my left shoulder and force him up against the truck. With him firmly trapped, I launch a series of deep blows in his wide open gut. This must have been quite a sight: Big 5'10" 290lbs ranger bear trapped against his own truck getting the shit beat out of him by a 5'6" 190 pound shrimp. I work him good and long. Eventually I grab him by his head and throw him on the ground. I leap on top of him and put him in a school boy pin! I proceed to shove my sweaty bulging briefs in his face rubbing & smothering him! He has no choice but to open his mouth and taste the sweat and precum of my briefs! He gagged as my cotton covered rod penetrates his mouth! "Do you give, fat pig?" I asked sarcastically? He hesitates but I know I got him. I can see it in his eyes. "Yes yes I give" he moans eventually with an exhausted voice! I can't believe that I could own this big alpha bear and I pose over him in victory. "I hope you'll think twice before pushing another smaller guy around," I shout! "Yes, sir," he squeezes out in defeat! I pose over him some more and smack his face around for good measure. "Who is the cock sucker now?" I ask. "I am," he says quietly. "You got that right, fat boy" I say. "NOW for my prize - suck my cock big boy!" I pull my briefs down and my cock falls on his face. He doesn't budge at first. "Suck that cock or I continue the beating. I have all day and there is nobody out here to help you". I raise my fist. He looks up and slowly opens his mouth. My cock slides in. To my surprise, he quickly starts licking the precum off my dick head and then starts slurping the head of my cock. "Oh wow, fat pig, you couldn't wait couldn't you?" He looks up at me briefly and then proceeds to greedily suck out any precum left in the shaft! I shove my man meat deep down his throat and start owning his throat. He moans and groans more out of pleasure than out of pain. In fact, he starts sucking like a pro. His tongue is working my dick until I explode down his throat. He chokes from the mass of cum but swallows it all up greedily. "Damn, who trained you to suck cock, fat boy? I leave my dick in his mouth until it has softened up a bit. He lets it happen while he looks up at me. Eventually, I get up and stand over him. I continue to verbally humiliate him. Instead of getting mad, his meaty paw starts to stroke his own meat! Clearly, he needs to blow a load, so I get back down to my knees and proceed to tongue his meaty pecs as his big paws goes up & down his shaft. After not too long he explodes his hot white lava all over his belly! I am amazed. "What a sight!" I got Big burly Ranger Dave completely defeated. I made him suck my dick and blow his load. Complete victory. I look at my watch and it is late. "I look down at big Dave and say, "I have to go now, but be sure, we will see each other again!" His eyes are closed and he lay's there motionless. I need to get back to the rest of the crowd and gather my belongings. As I look around, I take the Ranger's suspenders and put them on. I like the way they look on me. I also take his big ass tighty whities as a trophy and walk off. "Woof," this trip was definitely worth it. I love showing other alphas who's boss and smacking this big bear around turned me on big time. Fat Dave will remember it for a while as well I am sure. I'll be in Alaska for a few more weeks so maybe I need to come back to see how this story continues. ---------- END OF PART 2 If you like what you read and want to read more emails us some Feedback [email protected] and [email protected] Please remember to donate to nifty, without your donations this site wouldn't be possible.
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/job-interview	Date: Fri, 13 Sep 2024 08:25:47 +0200 From: Naked Justice Subject: Job Interview This is another story about my favourite theme - nudity, in this case CNMN. The story has been written in the nude. Therefore, I suggest that you take off your clothes - if you are wearing some - before reading. There is not much sex in this first installment, but there will be much more in upcoming chapters - if you like. I appreciate your comments as well as pictures of you reading my story as long as you are of legal age. I look forward if any of my readers wants to be a colleague of Jan and what you have in mind to do with him. Before entering the office building, I controlled my image in a window which served as mirror. My suit fitted perfectly. I had decided to keep the tie off and the top two buttons of my dress shirt open as it was so hot outside, about 32°C (90°F). I liked my appearance in the cream-coloured suit and the pale blue dress shirt. The open buttons allowed a glimpse on my tanned athletic chest which was part of my all over tan that I had gotten by permanent naked sunbathing during the last weeks. My dark blonde hair was perfectly combed. I opened the door and went to the reception desk to announce that I was here for my job interview. The receptionist asked me to take a seat while he called someone. A few moments later he told me to take the lift to the fifth floor. Up there, a muscular man in his late 30s waited for me behind an opaque glass door. He wore a dark blue suit with a matching tie on a white dress shirt. He looked very masculine with his black short hair and his short beard. In fact, I got a hard on when I saw him. He was absolutely the type of guy I would have tried to get contact in a gay bar. "Hello Mister Schumann", he said. "It's nice to meet you for this job interview. I am Max Bauer the owner of this company." "Delighted!", I said. "To make it short. You are the only candidate I have invited for an interview for this job. So, it's just about seeing whether both of us match and want to work together." That was really good news as I had written so many applications without any response, and the few interviews I have had so far after my rather poor exams had failed. "But first this. I found your profile on Gaydayte. It was rather explicit about your CMNM fantasies discussing your wishes to be the N in CNMN and even being deprived of all clothes." My head must have immediately turned fire red. "That's not a bad thing. I like to be the C in CMNM, so this does match. To make this interview more exciting I have the following proposal. No matter what your choice is, this doesn't affect your chances to get the job which are really good. So, you might * leave the office, strip naked and come back for the job interview pretending to be a radical nudist or with another good reason for your lack of clothes * undress one by one as you feel comfortable during the job interview, if you like until you are completely naked * use the word "Eden" dupring the interview to give me a signal that I am allowed to undress you. In that case you can stop me with the word "Apple" if I am crossing your limits * or just stay clothed, and we keep our CMNM fantasies for us or come back to them another day. As I have said, your choice doesn't affect your good chances to get the job. It's just to make this interview more exciting for both of us, if you want. What's your choice? Go out, decide and knock again in about five minutes or whenever you are ready to start the interview." So, I left the office again. Outside the office, between the opaque door and the lift, I breathed heavily. This was so hot. The sexy guy who might be my future boss asked me to strip naked either now or later during the interview. My cock was rock hard. As I went commando -- in fact, I don't own any underwear -- my tool tented the suit trousers. I thought about my options. It would be a blame to let this opportunity go and not going naked. So option 4 was off. I could let Mr. Bauer stripping me naked. Losing control about my clothing sounded hot. Too hot. No, I wouldn't be able to concentrate on the interview waiting for Mr. Bauer to take my clothes off. So, no option 3. I liked the idea to strip naked during the interview. But in fact. Would I dare that? Just be real. How should I find the right moment to start with it. Especially if I was too concentrated on the interview. No, I'd probably even forget taking my clothes off. Just imagine having the option to get out of my clothes and not getting naked. The decision was made. I took off the jacket, the shoes, then the trousers and finally my shirt leaving me only in socks. Just a few moments later, I was totally bare. I folded my trousers and the shirt, placed the socks on them and finally the jacket on top and laid the packet of clothes on my shoes. Then I knocked at the door. Nothing happened. I knocked again. "Sorry, I have a call", Mr. Bauer shouted through the door. So, I waited. Naked. Rock hard. With my boner leaking precum. Suddenly, I heard a bell ringing. It was the signal of the lift arriving at the 5th floor. Shocked, I turned around and faced the lift with my erection pointing forward to the opening doors. The cute receptionist stepped out of the lift, looked on my hard tool, smiled and then just took my discarded clothes. I was too aroused by the situation to do anything against it. In fact, I don't know whether I wanted to intervene. No, my erection leaked too much precum to deny it. I enjoyed the moment. With my clothes in his left hand, the receptionist grabbed my cock with the right and stroked him a few times. He smiled and then licked my precum off his hand before stepping into the lift again. With my clothes. All of them, the suit, the dress shirt, my shoes and socks. The only thing I was wearing now was my pubic hair. Well, that, and the hair on my head. Nothing else. I was totally exposed. And then, the office door opened. Mister Bauer smiled and let me in. "Good evening, Mr Schumann, I suppose." "Yes, good evening, Mr Bauer." "Please follow me in my office." We went into a nicely furnished office. Max Bauer asked me to take a seat in a comfortable seating group nest to the window. There, he had a perfect view of my still hard cock. "To start with. Your dress or lack of clothing is rather unusual. Why did you come here naked?" ________________________________________________________________________________ I thought a little bit about it. Is there any good reason to come naked to a job interview? "Well, I was rather prepared about your company. But I found no hints on your dress code. I feared that I might be overdressed if I wore a suit. To make a long story short, I finally decided to just wear what I'd prefer at the job. I thought that I'd just come out as a full-time nudist at home and show you that I don't need any clothing at work." "I appreciate this honesty. In fact, I am very liberal concerning the dress code. There is no need for a suit here. So, we have casual Friday all the days. In summer most guys come here in shorts and t-shirts or tank tops. Nobody had ever asked whether this place is clothing optional. But why shouldn't it. So, if you think that you'll do the job best in the nude, I won't hinder you." "That's exciting to hear", I said. "I see that", Mr. Bauer answered pointing on my hard dick. "I like that boner of you. It will be interesting to see whether you can keep it hard during the job interview. Feel free to play with it." Wow, that interview seemed to go in a strange direction. But well, why not? So, I stroked my hard on while Mr. Bauer started the interview itself. The interview turned out to be just a regular job interview with the usual questions on my CV, returning questions on the company and so on. There was nothing really exciting besides the fact that I was stark naked with a boner. Finally, Mr. Bauer came back to my lack of clothing. "You told me that you are a full-time nudist at home and want to be naked here. What other places do you go naked?" "Oh, the common ones. Beaches, saunas, sex clubs, gay bars." "Do you have any limits?" "Not really. I wouldn't go bare where this might offense religious feelings. But besides that, no." "Given that public nudity was declared 100% legal and a fundamental right by a ruling of the Federal Constitutional Court in April, have you been naked in public at an uncommon place so far?" "I know this ruling, and have gone to the aforementioned places without taking clothes with me. But nothing more." "I see. Nevertheless, you would like to live naked 24/7?" "It's an exciting idea." I stopped stroking my cock which leaked much precum. If this conversation continued it wouldn't take me long to cum in front of Mr. Bauer. "Okay. You know, this company is 100% gay. I only hire gay or bisexual men. You mentioned that you go to gay bars. Are you gay?" "Absolutely, 100% gay. Never done anything with women, but lots with guys." I now realised that Mr. Bauer's suit pants tented. It looked as he had a hard on, too. And this one seemed to be large. "Fine," he said. "I appreciate when my employees are open about their sexuality and talk about their activities and desires. So, a last question. What are your sexual preferences." "Almost everything, two ore more guys can do together. Anal and oral both ways, double penetrations, watersports. I am not experienced with bondage, but interested in some experience to be bound. And I definitely like CMNM scenarios." The last was no news for Mr. Bauer, and I was not sure whether the first were. "Okay. I think that's all I need to know. You get the job if you are interested." I was so happy to hear that that I nearly shot cum just by this good news. It went further when Mr. Bauer told me what I'd earn. It was about 30 percent more than I had required in my job application. "And I want to take care of your desires. So, I'll officially declare this company clothing optional as soon as you start here. But probably, you want to go further?" "Further?", I asked. "Yes. We could agree that you opt clothing completely out. In that case you are allowed -- and kind of expected -- to jerk off at work in front of your colleagues whenever you are in the mood. In that case you won't be entitled to wear anything at work. Never, even on business trips or company parties. Of course, there will be no space for you to place your clothes. So you are entitled to be naked on your way here. But this must not be the end." I looked at him curiously, just on the edge to fire my cum without any more touching of my cock. "The third option is that you agree to be a sex object for all of your colleagues. Everybody is allowed to play with your naked body at work as long as it is in the open. They are allowed to jerk you off, to suck your cock, to put dildos in your ass, lick your nipples. Of course, they are also allowed to fuck your mouth or ass, but only if they work naked that day, too." "Just to make it clear", I answered. "The job is clothing optional anyway. Option 1 is leaving it that way. I can work nude if I want and I can wear some clothes on other days. Option 2 is that I will always be nude at work and am entitled to jerk off whenever I want if I let my colleagues watch. And option 3 makes me a permanently naked sex toy." "Exactly." "It's hard to decide. Perhaps you want to give me a taste of option 3." "You want me to use you for sex?" Definitely. I wanted Max to tear his clothes off and fuck me hard just here or -- if he preferred that -- down on the street. "Option three doesn't count for me as your boss. It's to prevent that you might feel abused. All your colleagues would be entitled for sex with you, but I won't." I was a little disappointed. But Mr. Bauer was probably right that it was better for him to renounce on using me as sex toy. I was horny as hell. The little devil in my ear told me to take option 3. But the little angel in the other ear meant that I should be reasonable and just take option 1 or 2. "Can I decide that tomorrow?", I asked. "Well, tomorrow option 1 will be off. But if you want to chose between 2 and 3, I'll expect you at 11 o'clock here to sign your contract. Of course, you must come naked then." Even the little angel in my right ear agreed with me that I wouldn't take option 1 anyway. Given the option to work naked, I'd never chose clothes. And I didn't mind taking public transports in the nude to go to the office. "I am fine with that." "Great", answered Mr. Bauer. "I am happy to see you tomorrow. And it would be a pity if you didn't finish your business down there." He pointed on my cock which was still rock hard and leaking lots of precum. I stroked him twice and then shot lots of cum all over my body of which the first splashes even hit my face. Mr. Bauer smiled and stood up. I did the same and followed him to the office door. He led me out and followed me in the lift. When we arrived at the ground floor, the cute receptionist wasn't there anymore. Mr. Bauer went to his letter box and found a note there which he showed me. "I locked the clothes of your guest away to keep them safe. His keys, briefcase and mobile are in your letter box, but the clothing didn't fit in. Ronald" Mr. Bauer looked into his letter box and gave me my keys, briefcase and mobile. "Well, I think this will be your first naked way between office and home.", he said. It was. And despite having cum only a few minutes before, I felt that my cock was about to harden again. I had to leave this place immediately to prevent crossing lines. Completely naked from my bare feet up to my head, I walked to the metro station. As I had mentioned to Max -- I consider Mr. Bauer too formal when talking about him after he had watched me cumming -- I had been out naked before. Even before public nudity had been officially legalized, I had been jogging in the nude and never worn clothes on my way to naked sex parties. But using public transport clothing free was a first. Of course, people glared on me when I stood stark naked on the platform. When the metro came, I found a free seat. Opposite of me was a cute guy of about 18 or 19. He smiled when be became aware of my lack of clothes. "My friends won't believe me. May I take a photo?", he asked. "To post it to the internet?", I asked. The guy nodded shyly. "Yes, but you have to send it to me, too." The guy nodded his agreement. I told him my number, and then he took some photos. A few moments later, I received a message with the photos and the text: "I wish I dared what you do, Alex." I texted back. "Try it." Alex smiled and grabbed his shirt, probably to take it off. Unfortunately, we arrived at my station. So, I had to stand up and leave the metro. Alex let his shirt go and looked disappointed. I smiled at him, showed him a sign that I'd call him later, winked and left the train. After my first naked metro ride, I felt a little more comfortable walking clothing free to my house. Nevertheless, I was still nervous. Even if it is legal, it's not easy to walk naked through the streets in full daylight. Until now my public nudity had been limited to the night and the early morning. Just in front of my house, I ran into my friend Daniel. If he was surprised to see me naked, he didn't show it. "Hi Jan", he said. "How was your job interview?" I gave him a short resumé including how it came that I was naked now and the two options I had for my working condition. "Let's have a drink on it", he said. "Surely, but let me take on some clothes first." "I suppose, you don't need to. In fact, I think that we should pack all your clothes and donate them to charity as soon as you have signed your contract tomorrow." Daniel was right. And I had to do something against the hardness of my cock.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/sub-boy-next-door	Date: Thu, 17 Oct 2024 00:39:50 -0500 From: Gerhard Manslem Subject: Sub Boy Next Door Sub Boy Next Door I finally finished moving in to my new apartment. It was a downgrade from my old place in downtown Chicago, but it allowed me to live closer to my new job. The location wasn't bad, though. I guess one concern I had was how easy it would be to get laid in the suburbs, now that I was here. In the city, I would go on Grindr any night of the week and find pussy. I guess that's not hard when you're 6'4", muscular, and sporting a 9" uncut dick. But now I was feeling like I might not be able to get who I'm looking for as easily as before. If we're going to be honest, I do have a type. I see myself as a man's man, and no one would guess I was into boy pussy. My type's a guy who's short, in shape, and is obviously gay. But not just gay, a completely submissive faggot. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to find someone like that. Of course they don't all start out submissive. Often they present themselves fairly masculine. But that's often the most exciting conquest: meeting a man who sees themselves as masculine, and morphing them into a sexy, submissive fuck hole. That can happen quickly or slowly, depending on how open they are to exploring and discovering what they're really into. Now that I was settled in, I was feeling like exploring my options. I got on Grindr and started scrolling. I receive various messages like usual, most of which were not interesting. But then I get a message which intrigued me. He wasn't desperate and was really cute (sort of a frat guy look). He asked if I wanted to meet up for a drink and see where things go. I could not say no. I asked for his address so I would pick him up. He gave me his address, and it shocked me. He lived in my building! He then told me his apartment number, and I couldn't believe it. It was literally the apartment next to mine. I haven't had time to say hi to any of my neighbors, so this was certainly a pleasant surprise. I let him know that I just moved in and happened to be next door to him. Would he be interested in just coming over? His name was Adam, and he was happy to come by. I unlocked the door, cleaned myself up a bit, and waited. I heard a knock at the door so I got up and opened it. Standing before me was a cute little shorty, maybe around 5'4". Light brown hair, hazel eyes. He was wearing a white shirt, silver necklace, cargo shorts, a baseball hat and flip flops. He seemed like he was regularly clean shaven, but he didn't shave for a couple days and had a little scruff. He smiled and introduced himself in a slightly effeminate voice. I smiled back and made a dumb joke. "Did you have a hard time finding the place?" "Ha! Yeah. Almost got lost." He took off his flip flops and followed me into the living room. I couldn't help noticing his beautiful feet. They were well manicured, clean, and dare I say a little feminine. I motioned for him to sit down on my sofa. "You want something to drink?" I asked. "What do you have?" "I got beer, vodka... I think that's it." I said. "Beer would be good, thanks." I grabbed two beers and threw him one. He caught it, cracked it open, and took a couple sips. I wanted to break the ice. "So what are you looking for?" I asked him. "I guess the usual. Maybe get to know someone a bit first." "Well, what are you into?" "I'd like to say just about anything, but that's probably not true. I actually haven't done much. Just blew a couple guys, and they blew me back." That surprised me. "Oh you're kidding." I said. "I'm surprised." "Why is that?" He asked. "Well, I mean you're obviously really cute. I'm surprised guys haven't asked to go further." "Some did. I think I was just nervous at the time." "I certainly wouldn't want to do anything you weren't interested in doing. If you just want oral, we can do that." He nodded. I was slightly disappointed, but at the same time, dick is dick. He seemed like he'd be awkward at making the first move, and I was happy with taking the lead. I slowly went for his beer, took it out of his hands, and looked in his eyes. He looked back, somewhat shyly. I glanced at his feet. "I love your feet. They're beautiful." "Thank you." He said. I lifted his feet so they were both on the sofa. I started kissing him from the knees, slowly down to his toes. I started sucking on his toes, and I heard he started to moan a little. He leaned back and was breathing heavier. The sofa was starting to feel cramped so I stopped. I got up grabbed him by the hand, and led him to my bedroom. Before getting him on the bed, I turned to him and locked my lips with his. I was starting to get hard. He was too, though his package felt a bit small. No problem for me, I instinctively started slowly grinding my pelvis as my hands were squeezing his butt cheeks. I could feel him getting more excited. So I withdrew, gave him a goofy smile, picked him up, and tossed him on the bed. I got on the bed too, and admired him for a moment. He took his shirt off, and I took mine off. He was nearly hairless. I loved that. It was a contrast to me, as my chest was fairly hairy. I went for his cargo shorts and pulled them off. He was wearing striped boxer briefs. I could see a wet stain on them where he was leaking precum. My tongue knew where to go. I swirled it around his cock and used a hand to cup his balls. I kept sucking on his cock through his underwear. He was hard, but he wasn't big. I pulled his underwear down, and threw them over the bed. His penis was definitely on the small side, maybe around 4". But penis size means nothing to me. It was still beautiful, and he was beautiful. It was not hard to get all of him in my mouth. I used my mouth and tongue to give him what he was looking for. "Shit." Adam moaned. "Stop for a sec." I got off his cock. He looked at me. "Lie down." I laid my head down on my pillow. Now he was on top of me. He spread my knees apart and looked at my bulge. His hand was massaging it. "You're big." He said. "Yeah." Was all I could think of saying. I pulled my shorts off. My cock felt almost trapped in my underwear. Adam's delicate tongue traced my cock through my shorts. I was playing with the hair on the back of his head with one of my hands. He gave my cock some relief when he pulled my underwear off. My fat cock basically popped out. It was throbbing. It needed to feel Adam's mouth again. "Shit. You're huge." I was getting a little bit impatient. I know he was nervous, and I realized I needed to be more aggressive with him. I grabbed a chunk of his hair with one hand. "Open your mouth wide and stick your tongue out." Adam was shocked, but he did as he was told. Like a good boy. "If you don't know how to suck a big, fat cock like mine, then I'll have to train you." With that, I shoved my cock in his mouth so it was about halfway in. Adam was choking. I waited a few seconds, then pulled him off. I kissed him. "Do you want to learn to suck my dick?" "Yes." He said, a little drool coming out. "Good. Then just do what I say." I kissed him again. "Stick your tongue all the way out." He did. I spit in his mouth, and before he could react, his mouth was over my cock again. I used both of my hands now. First slowly and then picking up the pace, his mouth was used for my pleasure. He was going up and down on my dick, and slowly, he was able to take more of my dick, until he was actually able to get most of it down his throat. I was proud of him. "Good boy." I told him. He nodded. "Call me `sir'." "Yes sir." "Good boy. You're improving as a cocksucker." "Thank you, sir." "But I want more from you." "What do you mean?" He asked. I lightly slapped him across his face. "Don't forget to call me `sir'." "I'm sorry, sir. I forgot." "No worries. I'll show you what I mean." I made him lie down on the pillow again. I kissed his hard cock, I licked his balls, and I continued going south until my tongue was swirling his tight asshole. Adam let out a moan. "Sir, I'm not sure about my ass." "Trust me, Adam." "Yes, sir." So I went back down and continued eating his beautiful asshole until I could feel it relaxing and opening up to me. "See? I knew it." "You knew what, sir?" "I knew that you wanted more than just to suck cock. Admit it." Adam sighed nervously. "Ok, I admit it, sir." "You admit what?" "I admit that I want you to fuck me, sir." I smiled. It was the smile of someone who was about to conquer Adam's manhood. I put some pillows under his ass to give my dick a better angle. I spread his legs. He was lightly stroking his small cock. My cock was starting to dry a little. "Spit on my cock. Make my dick wet." "Yes, sir." He did as he was told and spit on my dick. Without thinking, he also shoved most of my cock in his mouth again. "Good boy. You're starting to anticipate my needs without being asked." "Thank you, sir." He smiled. He kissed the head of my dick and laid back down with his legs spread. His asshole was tight, but my cock was rock hard. I pressed against the opening of his ass. I looked at him as I did that. "Once my cock is inside you, you're mine." "Yes, sir. Thank you sir." "Who's going to own you?" "You will, sir." I slowly pushed the head of my dick in. With only a little effort, the first inch of my cock went in this boy's tight hole. "How does it feel to have my cock inside of you?" "Good, sir. Thank you, sir." "And this is not an ass anymore." "What do you mean, sir?" "When my fat cock went inside you, I defeated you. Your ass is now my pussy. You're my bitch. Do you understand?" "Yes, sir." "Let me hear you say it." "This is a pussy. I'm your fucking bitch." "Your pussy is meant to serve superior cock." "My pussy is for you to enjoy. I'm here to serve your superior cock." "Good boy." I was thrusting slowly back and forth, to get him more comfortable. My throbbing cock was slowly going deeper inside his pussy. He was letting out soft moans of defeat. I wanted to take even more of him, so I stretched his legs to go as far back as they could. Now I could really enjoy ever deep thrust. I looked at beautiful Adam and couldn't help but kiss him passionately as he was getting pounded. I paused. Adam looked confused. "Roll over and get on all fours." "Yes, sir." Adam did as he was told. "I'm going to teach you how your pussy is to take my cock from behind." Adam was on all fours, but his posture wasn't correct. "You need to show me that you're my submissive faggot. You have to arch your back and stick your pussy up." "Like this?" Adam did his best to follow my instructions. "Yes, that's better. Your back should always be arched. It shows me your complete submission, and I can enter you easier." "I understand, sir. My pussy will always be arched so you can enter me easier." Adam continued arching his back, and I was able to easily enter him. My thrusts picked up speed. "You're such a good faggot. Your were born to submit and serve." "Yes, sir! My fag pussy is yours. My fag mouth is yours. Make me your bitch." I couldn't hold much longer. My balls were full of hot semen that needed to be released. Adam showed me his full submission, and he deserved every drop of my load. With a loud moan, I shot load after load of semen deep into my bitch's fag pussy. I kept thrusting and semen was leaking out. I was tugging on Adam's small cock until he too let out a little fag whimper, and shot his load on my bed. He fell on the bed in exhaustion, and my body fell on top of his. He must have been in heaven, the full weight of a superior man on top of him after his pussy was flooded with semen. We laid there for maybe 10 minutes, fairly quiet, enjoying the moment between us. Then I spoke up. "There is one more thing you'll do for me." "What's that, sir?" I pulled my cock out of his ass, and went to my drawer. I pulled out a cock cage. "You're going to start wearing this from now on." "Really, sir?" "Yes. I want you locked in submission. This way you'll train your pussy to be your main sex organ. Put it on now." Adam took the cage and fiddled around with it until he was able to get his cock secured. "Your beautiful pussy is meant to serve me. I will continue to train you to become more of a submissive slut to my cock. Your cock cage might be uncomfortable now, but it will remind you that your pussy is where your pleasure comes from. So keep your little clit cock locked. Do you understand?" "Yes, sir. I'm now your faggot bitch. Thank you for cumming inside me and showing me what a submissive slut I am. Can this faggot go home and rest until you need me again?" Adam was no longer on the bed, but on the floor, grabbing his clothes. "Yes, you need a break. But before you go, I need you to do one final bit of cleanup." Before Adam had a chance to say anything else, I thrust my cock that I had just pulled out of Adam's ass into his mouth. Adam was shocked. I didn't care. I wanted him to clean my cock. I could feel my bladder swelling up. I needed to piss. Well, no sense in flushing it. "Look straight at me. You're going drink everything I give you now. Understand?" Adam nodded. A hot stream of piss shot out of my dick and deep down Adam's throat. He looked right at me. I could see that he had a few fingers in his ass, using my semen as lube to fuck himself. "Good boy. Drink every drop of my piss." He nodded. He knew it was all part of being a submissive bitch who's meant to serve.
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/the-barbarian	Date: Fri, 13 Sep 2024 16:09:01 -0700 From: GayFan Boy Subject: The Barbarian The Barbarian by GayFanBoy8 This is fanfiction based on the art of Priapus of Milet. Galleries of his works can be found here. http://telemachus12.com/guest_priapusofmilet.html?page=20240907 The Barbarian had fought many battles just to get here. To only just be in this very arena. The arena of all arenas. The Colosseum! One match away from freedom. All the warrior needed now was a single last victory... One more win, and the man would become a citizen! The Barbarian would achieve this final absolution. Or die trying. War was all the man knew. War and Destruction. Trained to kill since before his village had been attacked, the hunk's prowess as a fighter had only increased as a slave. As an entertainer by murder. As a dancer of death. From one small stadium to the next, The Barbarian had built his victories, slaying every man and beast alike whom stood against him in combat. Every time the gorgeous stud would emerge triumphant. Every time the muscled hunk would remain the last man standing. Until The Barbarian had at last finally arrived here. The capitol of all civilization. The center of the known world. Rome! Here the man would finally have his chance to undo what had been done so many years ago. To earn back what had been so unrightfully stolen. To be what he had always been meant to be! Free! The Barbarian stood alone at the center of The Colosseum. The first to enter the ring. The roar around him was deafening! But it was not the cry of some beast that was echoing in The Barbarian's ears. No... it was the growl of that far more deadly! The roar of men. Turning to the crowd, The Barbarian raised his steel high! Their response... rattled his bones. These "citizens" wanted murder. And The Barbarian would be happy to give it to them... one last time. More cheers echoed. His opponent had entered the stadium floor. The time of violence was nigh. The two gladiators charged. Their swords clashed. Their shields sang! The Barbarian knew the dance well! Thrust! Pivot! Parry! Thrust once more! His partner knew the same. Downswing! Kick! Bash! Locked in an intricate ritual of death, their eyes briefly met, as their steel touched between. Neither hated the other. Both men knew the score. This lot was their burden. But bear it each would.... ...to the other's death! Attack! Dodge! Press! The Barbarian's opponent fainted left, then fell to his knees, using the blunt of his blade to knock the warrior's feet out from under him! The Barbarian fell! Cold steel was at his neck! The crowd roared its true nature once more! NO! IT COULD NOT BE! The man felt sick! He had failed! The other warrior would be the one to be rewarded freedom! And he? It was up to The Emperor to decide! From on high, the king looked down on the defeated combatant. Then made his call. A cock angled to the sky! The Barbarian yelled in fear! Anything but that! Death would have been preferable by far! But the warrior had always been too attractive for a fighter. And this flaw was about to be his doom! Servants rushed onto the battlefield, chaining The Barbarian's arms and legs. The man tried to struggle! But there were far too many! Hoisting the felled warrior onto a barrel, the hunk was stripped of his armor until nothing but muscular bare flesh remained. His round meaty orbs raised vulnerable and high, the crowd of The Colosseum went wild! The mob knew what lay in store next for that winking bud! Sloughing off his own padding, the other warrior let his armor fall to the ground around him. The muscular behemoth stood naked and tall! Victorious! His cock grew large and hungry beneath! Walking behind The Barbarian's upturned ass, the triumphant gladiator aimed his steel between the fleshy mounds of his defeated opponent! Raising his arms to the sky, the warrior waited for the crowd's roar to become a fever. And finally when the chants of their lust had become so loud that the earth itself began to tremble and quake... the victorious gladiator thrust himself inside the loser, all the way to the hilt! The Barbarian could not hear his own scream! Such was the cacophony of sound! And then he was stabbed once more! Pounded yet again! Reamed wide ever further! The winning gladiator had begun his hard steady unyielding fuck! "AAAAAAA!" bellowed the chained combatant in far more shame than pain, years of undefeated masculinity vanquished by the onslaught of his conqueror's cock. As his aching rectum was demolished in front the cheering crowd of thousands, The Barbarian's eyes became transfixed on the madness of it all. He should have shut them tight. He should have lidded the world from view. But some more ancient part of the man's brain began to realize the moves of a new dance he was being forced to learn. And stayed his eyes from closing. As the hungry thrusts behind The Barbarian continued to ram his asshole into nothing more than a wet, loose cunt... the defeated warrior realized that he too could have been one of the crowd himself. And not only that, The Barbarian now had the closest front row seat, anyone could have never wanted! Whatever old and animalistic workings of his mind existed, it had the ability watch his own manly destruction as if it was ocurring to someone else. And so the vanquished hero's eyes remained wide against his will, searching the crowd for more of the shame their roars instilled within his soul. When the victorious gladiator behind, gripped his shoulders for leverage, eager to plow his manhood inside ever harder, ever further, The Barbarian found himself arcing his back to assist. "Ugh! Fuck! Ugh!" the man whined in sinking confusion. He could not be getting off on his own loss! On his own rape! But The Barbarian's surging cock beneath disagreed entirely! Sweat beaded on the chained man's muscular body, as each new thrust of his attacker teased his sensitive anal ring more and more! "Nooo!" cried out the failing man, realizing how bitched his body was about to become! A slave to the Romans! And now a slave to cock! But there was nothing The Barbarian could do to quench the thirst growing inside! Each swing of his conqueror left the man's prostate singing for yet another, his anal lips relaxing ever further to let more of the real man inside. The grunts turned to whines. And then the whines to groans. And finally in the end... The Barbarian was moaning for it more. It felt so good! The cock! And the shame! The roar of the spectators' dooming his mind just as much as the leaking phallus inside him. His conqueror's greasy, slick dick was now sliding into the defeated man with such speed that it had become nothing but a blur of thick, veiny masculinity. "FUUUCK," moaned The Barbarian as his own hard meat burped out below the same gooey cocksnot he could feel bubbling into him inside. But the defeated warrior was not the only one to become victim to the chants of the crowd! The triumphant gladiator was also feeling their need! Goading him on! Feeding his ego! Feeling the change overcoming his vanquished foe, the manly stud wanted to show his auidence the fruits of his labor. Gesturing to the servants at the side of the ring, the winning gladiator beckoned them to reposition his enemy. This time to face the sky. This time to show the crowd exactly how far The Barbarian had fallen. When the chained man had been shifted, his back now stretched across the wooden barrel below, The Colosseum finally fell silent. Hushed. Awed. The Barbarian's turgid member was dancing in the air above him. Twitching. Quivering. Belching out precum like a guyser. Then the roar returned! Louder than ever! The thick cock back in him as well, pounding as hard as the victorious gladiator could manage! Making the man's fail of a manhood dance ever more as it undulated and wagged, pointing skyward, painting The Barbarian's muscular abs beneath in its sticky dribble. The incessant thrusting continued as the eyes of both winner and loser locked once more. The stare addicting to them both, feeding the growing need inside, as the cheers of the crowd edged them on toward their new destinies. One to remain a man, and be free! The other to become a bitch, and remain a slave. Each their new dominant and desired sexualities. Each future making their individual cocks quake for it more! The Barbarian knew it true, much to the ache of his soul! His body no longer wanted what it once had. He now had the mind of a failure. Of a bitch! And his new fate now made him so hard! So incredibly hard! The Bitch came! Never once having touched his fail of a manhood! Messing his handsome face with his worthless sloppy seed. The crowd roared to his last final defeat! The Barbarian was no more. Defeated and vanquised inside The Colosseum like so many before. The winning gladiator then came next, inseminating his conquest with a flood of his own masculinity. The match was finally over. But such was the extent of the magnificent sexual display, that a special event was called in its honor. Every citizen that wished would have a turn with The Bitch, choosing any hole they pleased, as many times as they wanted. While the games continued unabated in the center ring, a side show was created on the floor of The Colosseum. And it would be to last for days. To last until the loser of a man at the center was coated in so much masculine slime that not one inch of his beautiful muscular form was not drenched in the seed of his betters. The Bitch learned to take the swords of men, as much as he ever knew how to handle his own. To learn how to slurp on their lengths, and to savor their flavors, as they gushed their spunk down his throat time and time again. To be nothing of the man he was before. When this celebration of his own masculine defeat had come to an end, the slave was returned to the cells beneath The Colosseum. This time to serve the needs of the other gladiators both before and after combat. The man soon forgot his wants of freedom, as fleshy spear after fleshy spear rammed home inside him. Instead he now dreamed the dreams of a cum soggy, lowly bitch faggot. Content now to be nothing but the slave of slaves. -The End A huge amount of 3D galleries can be found here, including the rest of the art of this fanfiction. http://telemachus12.com/guest_priapusofmilet.html?page=20240831
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/whip-lightly-until-firm	Date: Sun, 13 Oct 2024 05:48:14 +0000 From: Night Wolf Subject: Whip Lightly Until Firm "Whip Lightly Until Firm" by Night Wolf If you like this story or even if you don't, please support Nifty so they can continue to bring you stories that you DO like! https://donate.nifty.org/ You can write the author at: CanisNoctis - (at)- pm.me --- Here's a recipe we hope you'll enjoy. Properly prepared your savory dish is certain to be a hit at parties or can be enjoyed for a comfortable, private evening for two. Ingredients: - Oil, Silicone Lubricant (warmed) - One Box Condoms (ribbed) - Six Cups Wine (chilled) - One medium size vibrating dildo (any color) - Assorted leather straps Preparation: Step 1 - Make sure your dish is fully stripped and cleaned. Marinate with chilled wine until pliable. Step 2 - Apply oil directly to the raw meat of your dish, rubbing vigorously to a mild tumescence until the meat begins dripping its natural juices. Warning: Don't overdo it and risk losing the sweet cream inside. You will want that for later. Step 3 - Bend and knead gently. Step 4 - Whip lightly until firm. Step 5 - Place your dish on a flat surface. Check that nuts are lightly salty. Step 6 - Set dildo to vibrate and insert. Use as needed until tender, loose, and flexible. Step 7 - Insert your own meat to finish stuffing the dish. Optionally add your own milk or cream if you want your guests to enjoy a more moist dish. Step 8 - Garnish with leather straps and serve with a side of condoms. Serving Suggestions: Once fully prepared each guest should be able to enjoy your dish to their own delight. Provide additional condiments and consider additional garnish in the form of a ball gag or handcuffs. Be inventive and use your imagination. Guests should be able to extract a few dollops of sweet cream from the dish which can be drizzled as a glaze across other meats at the party. Preserving: After the party, place in a warm, soft bed and cover. Cuddle to taste and enjoy. Makes for great leftovers. --- END
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/apprentice-plumber-boy	Date: Thu, 12 Sep 2024 20:40:05 +0200 From: Adrian Jacobsen Subject: Apprentice Plumber Boy (Bondage, piss eating, cum eating. Authoritarian, urination) Young man submits to bondage and is fed piss and cum. Tom was a young man just starting his apprenticeship as a plumber. The plumbing company was just 1 man in a small town, and Tom had been lucky enough to score an apprenticeship position under the owner, Jules. Jules was in his early 30's, rugged and muscular, masculine, and Tom felt an instant attraction. The first few weeks was filled by learning the ropes, Tom would come along and help Jules fix people's plumbing, including shops, bars and other businesses. One Saturday night Tom visited a local pub, located in an old building. The pub was in a corner of a larger building, which used to be a mall, but now mostly abandoned. Tom noticed all the old plumbing and knew he'd probably have to come here and work on the plumbing with Jules one of these days. Tom had re-downloaded Grindr, and was feeling good and horny. Unfortunately there were only pictureless profiles nearby, so he knew he wouldn't get lucky tonight. He went into the bathroom. The bathroom was small, but Tom noticed what looked like a brand new urinal, looking very clean compared to the rest of the bathroom. "Must be new" Tom thought, as he went over and had a big beer-induced piss at the urinal. Tom always thought pissing cocks were so hot, and one of his favorite things to do was to look at men pissing at urinals. Too bad there was only 1 here. And how strange that it seems so new and clean, yet it doesn't flush with water. A month later, while browsing some porn, Tom suddenly saw something familiar. A thumbnail looking like the pub bathroom titled "collecting piss from studs at the pub". A video from the pub bathroom? Tom's eyes widened as he clicked on it. He recognized the urinal. The video had 2 camera angles, apparently there was a camera hidden in the mirror above the urinal, giving a clear view of the pissers face, and another cam hidden lower, giving a close-up of the pissers cock. "Wow, I saw that guy at the pub" Tom thought. He couldn't look away, his cock was so good looking and the piss looked great. As the pisser finished, Tom saw this was a several hours long video. Wow, he must have been recording the whole night. Tom went skimming through the whole video, looking at all the guys that visited the urinal. About halfway through he saw something unexpected on the video. It was Jules. He had on a backpack. He took out a large bottle of water and poured it into the urinal, and then we cleaned it with some clothes. Jules seemed a bit nervous and hurrying to finish. "Why would Jules be cleaning a urinal at this pub?". Tom wondered if Jules might have some kind of weird fetish. He saw Jules leave the bathroom. 20 minutes later in the video Jules returned, and this time went up to the urinal for a piss. Tom's jaw dropped. Jules had a good, uncut cock. Mesmerized, Tom savored the video, getting hard himself and started jerking off to it. Tom couldn't help but fantasize about tasting that piss. Jules finished, shook his cock, and looked straight into the hidden camera and blinked. "Jules is the one filming!" Tom said out loud. Wow. Tom was determined to find out more. He was fueled by curiosity. One Friday night after work, Tom went back to the office. They had a collection of keys for entry to most of the buildings in town and Tom wondered if the pub might be one. Tom found a key labeled for the building the pub was in. As he picked it up he felt his balls tighten. Do I really want to get in on Jules secret pervert business? Well, yeah. Tom went straight to the building and used the key to gain access through one of the other entrances, to stay discreetly away from the pub. Inside the mall he found where the pub was, and then noticed there was a door labeled "maintenance" which would be on the other side of where the men's room was. Tom looked at the key in his hand and wondered if the key would fit. It did. Tom slowly opened the door, and saw a dark room. Not wanting to get caught, he quickly turned on the light and went inside and locked the door behind him. Tom went to look around the room. There was a desk with a laptop on it. Several 6-packs of bottled water. But by the wall was where the interesting stuff was. Tom recognized some leather bondage gear, handcuffs, and several mouthpieces meant to go into someone's mouth to feed them piss. Tom felt his heart racing. Jules is a piss man, Tom thought. So we both had the same motivation to become plumbers, what a coincidence. Tom was instantly horny, and started examining the wall for gear. Suddenly he heard what sounded like running water. One of the pipes on the wall! It had a 3-way connector, with regulators. "No way" Tom whispered. He picked up one of the piss-feeding mouthpieces that had a hose to it.... It fit perfectly on the connector. That's when Tom realized what Jules was doing. He had bypassed the plumbing, so that the piss can be collected straight from the urinal when dudes have a piss, just by flipping a handle to open the connector feeding the piss gear. Tom was more than just curious now, he was horny. He wanted to try to pull the handle, to se if there really was piss coming out. He looked around and saw some buckets, a floor drain, and a hose. "OK, I can play around and be able to clean up easily," Tom assured himself. He picked up a bucket, held it under the spout and pulled the handle to switch the 3-way connector to drain out into the bucket instead of the drain. It wasn't long until he heard the familiar sound of water running. And there it was. Pure piss draining into the bucket. Tom had a huge smirk on his face. He touched the piss streaming into the bucked with his fingers, and felt how it was slightly warm. He smelled it, and knew 100% that this was in fact piss. Not wanting to get caught, Jules quickly poured the piss down the drain, rinsed out the bucket, put the 3-way connector back the way it was, and carefully made sure everything was as it was when he entered. Tom hurried back home and felt like his mind had been blown. Come Monday, Tom went into the office. Jules greeted him with his usual smirk, and looked at him a bit long. Tom got a bit nervous. Jules explained they had an appointment later, but nothing during the morning. Jules invited Tom to sit down by his desk. Jules looked Tom straight in the eyes while smiling. Jules leaned back and said "You know I got cameras in that maintenance room by the pub, right? Didn't take a sweet young guy like you for a piss guy." Tom became tomato red in the face, speechless... Tom: "Sir... I...". Jules said calmly: "That's okay, boy. I know you're curious. If you want me to show you how it works, let me know. Wouldn't mind playing with you. But for now, I think you need a break. Let's just focus on work, Tom". Tom felt out of place, having been confronted, but tried to stay focused. It was a bit weird being so close to Jules, but Jules was just his normal, happy, positive self. Tom didn't dare bring up the subject. Come Friday, it was about quitting time. Jules had Tom come into the office. "Well, I hope you had time to cool off. If you want to come to the pub with me after, we could have some fun. Have a good weekend, boy" Jules said playfully. "Have a good weekend" Tom said. Tom went home, but all he could think about was the offer Jules had made. "Do I really want to hook up with Jules and do piss play?" Tom spent a few hours wondering, growing horny at the thought of getting piss. He decided to go to the pub. When he got there, Jules was not at the pub. Tom ordered a beer, and figured he'd wait around. He couldn't help but make a mental note of all the dudes going into the bathroom. Tom felt his cock twitch in his pants at the thought of getting their piss. He decided to use the urinal, and went in and relieved himself. Again the urinal was very clean. Guess Jules makes sure the piss is nice and clean. Tom went back out to the pub, and decided to go outside for some air. Moments later, Jules walked up to him. Jules said: "how nice of you to come, and make a contribution today. Would you like to come see?". Tom was like an eager little puppy; "Yes, sir!". Jules said: "Remember to be discrete, we don't want to ruin our fun here". Jules led Tom to one of the other entrances, unlocked the door, and they snuck in without anyone noticing. As they approached the maintenance room, Tom's heart started racing. They went in, and Tom saw another man in there. There was a man, wearing a jockstrap, on his knees by the wall. He had blindfolds on, handcuffs, and a mouthpiece connected to a pipe on the wall. He also had headphones on blasting music. "Don't worry, he can't see or hear you. Piss is his only world now". There was a sound of running water, and piss started pouring from the spout. The piss went into a tube secured below the spout, which led into the man's mouth. Jules said: "He's wearing a tube that goes a few inches into his mouth. It's best for him to swallow, but if it's too much, he's able to control the flow with his tongue. Of course, there's other mouthpieces, tubes and equipment too. Why don't you have a look?" Tom slowly approached, and started examining the whole setup. More piss poured out of the pipe and into the tube. The man swallowed. The man was slender, yet muscular, maybe late 20's? Anyways he was hot. Jules asked: "You like taking piss, boy?". Tom responded; "Umh, I've only tried once before. Sir." Jules smirked and said: "Well, tonight's your chance. This is the same pup that I had swallowing your piss the first time you came to the pub. That's hot. Why don't you give it a try?" Tom was a bit hesitant, but extremely horny. "Sir, if you promise it's safe". Jules replied: "I clean the urinal before each play session, and even rinse the pipes. There's a filter as well. What you're getting is pure piss. And if you don't like it, you can choose not to swallow. However... I require that you get naked, be on your knees and under my bondage, like your fellow boy here. We can do without headphones, to make you feel safer" Tom was hesitant, but also felt like his fetish dream had come true. And he trusted Jules. Tom nodded towards Jules. "Good boy" Jules said. Jules approached Tom and started pulling up Tom's shirt. It was off in an instant. Before Tom knew, his belt had been undone and his pants were around his ankles. Jules had created a momentum, and Tom wanted to let it take him. Jules went behind Tom, and gathered Tom's hands behind his back and put handcuffs on. "There's a good boy. Just breathe and let me do my thing" Jules said softly. Suddenly blindfolds was pulled over his eyes, his underwear was pulled down. Tom stood there, naked, handcuffed, blindfolded. "I got some nice towels laid out for you. You're going to love this" Jules said. Tom stood there for a few moments, a bit nervous, and heard Jules say: "I've taken the other boy off so he can get a break. He'll be staying in bondage, so he can't see or hear you. Come, it's time to hook you up." Jules led Tom over to where the piss spout was, and had Tom knees down. "Now boy, are you hardcore? Do you want to swallow? Nod for me." Tom nodded. "Excellent, I have just the thing for you" Jules said. Jules said: "You are to take this tube into your mouth, I will secure it." Tom opened his mouth. A rubber tube was inserted into Tom's mouth. It felt thick and sturdy. It went in about 3 inches, then Jules inserted a mouthpiece between his teeth. It was secured with straps going around his head and neck. Jules said: "The tube will feed you piss. The mouthpiece will prevent you from biting the tube. I will be your first client, boy." He could hear Jules unzipping. "I'll be pissing straight into the tube. You are to swallow" Jules said. Tom could hear the piss rushing down the tube, and was waiting excitedly. Piss poured into his mouth. The rubber tube was so far into his mouth he reflexively began swallowing. There were a few mouthfuls of piss being fed to Tom. "There's a good boy" Jules said. Jules continued pissing, this time not stopping. Tom was being fed piss, and could feel some of it dripping out of his mouth and dripping on his body. Jules said: "Since it's your first time, you'll only be required to service 2 additional men." Jules came closer, and started stroking Tom's hair and chest. "You're such a good boy, you might be rewarded later". Tom recognized the sound of piss coming from the spout, running into the tube. The piss went into his mouth and he swallowed again. Tom was in bliss. It felt like this was what he was made to do. Jules spoke gently "that's good, boy. Do you want a reward? Do you want some cum as well? I think you want me to give you cum, boy. Nod, boy." Tom nodded. He kind of wanted Jules cock as well, maybe next time. "I need that cum" Tom thought. Tom stood up in front of Tom and pulled his cock out. He was rock hard, and started stroking. Jules put his cock in Tom's hair, and smacked his face with it. Jules jerked off resting his balls on Tom's cheek. Tom could smell the masculine scent of cock. It was intoxicating. Soon enough, Jules grabbed the tube and unloaded his cum straight into it. Jules said: "You'll get to taste it when someone gives you some piss to flush it down your throat". Tom nodded. He wanted to be Jules' little piss and cum slut. Tom could hear Jules fidgeting with the tube for a bit. "That's a good cumeater. Are you ready?" Tom nodded. The sound of piss again! Piss came out the spout, and Jules made sure the piss flushed all the cum in the tube down Tom's mouth. Tom tasted a lot of cum. He swallowed what must have been 2 mouthfuls of cum, before the piss came. It was delicious. "That's such a good boy" Jules said. Tom gently took the mouthpiece and tube out of Tom's mouth, took his blindfolds off and handcuffs off. Jules stood towering above him and said: "That's a good boy. Did you have fun?" Tom said: "Yes, sir!" Jules smiled and said: "Stand up". Tom stood up, revealing a massive boner, with messy precum everywhere. Jules said excitedly "whoa, someone had a good time. Now how about we give our waiting friend a reward for waiting patiently? This boy is a good cocksucker, and you've both earned a reward." Jules led Tom over to the man sitting on some towels a few feet away, handcuffed and blindfolded. Jules took his headset off, and said "You want to suck cock, boy?" The man nodded. Jules said "Go ahead", and gestured to Tom to go ahead and get his cock sucked. Tom went ahead and put his cock up to the mans face, and he began sucking. Tom had never had his cock sucked like this before, every stroke all the way to the base of his 23cm cock. Jules came to stand right next to Tom, and put his arms around him. Jules began making out with Tom. It wasn't long before Tom shot his load down the man's throat, while he let out the sweetest whimpers. Jules said: "Good boy, now feed his this as well". Jules pulled out a condom from his pocket. It was tied off and filled with a lot of cum. Several loads worth. He handed Tom the condom. Tom took the condom and untied it. He looked inside the condom and smelled it. It smelled fresh and sweet. Tom looked Jules in the eyes and asked "You already fed me some of these, didn't you?". Jules laughed softly and said "You're a smart boy. Impressive." Tom smirked at Jules, and said: "Maybe this will impress you." Tom took the cum filled condom, lifted it up above his face, and put it in his own mouth. He poured the cum in, and even squeezed out every drop of it. Tom bent down to the man at their feets, and grabbed his face by the cheeks. "Open" Tom said. The man's mouth opened. Tom let the cum slowly dribble from his mouth into the man's mouth. He swallowed. Jules said: "Well, that's an impressive performance, boy. I'm proud of you. Clean yourself up and go have some beers at the bar, then go home. I'll finish up in here." Jules gave Tom a 20 dollar bill and a smile. Tom cleaned up, and got dressed. He left and went to the bar and had a beer. He went for a piss at the urinal, wondering if there was someone drinking it at the other side of the wall. He looked in the mirror, and saw the head straps had left some temporary markings, but not too obvious. After a while of drinking and pool games, socializing, he was talking to a handsome guy named Nick. He seemed very straight, and was talking about cars and sports. He invited Tom over for a BBQ on Sunday, since he was new in town. Tom accepted. Tom then noticed something on Nick's face. "It's the fucking strap marks. I fed this guy my load an hour ago".
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-37	Date: Sun, 12 May 2024 22:58:44 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 37 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN: MANIPULASEANS Previously, at the Phallic Tower: * The physics mandate the Beta-deaths of left-siders Al, Theo and Stan. Ian and Sean manipulate Vic into murdering Al, but Ian, anxious to spare Stan, hides him, telling Sean that Stan was captured by a penis garden. A skeptical Sean checks with Hamish: Stan is not underground and the penis gardens are inactive. * After Vic bottoms for Seth, he knocks Seth out and, filled with remorse for killing Al, surrenders to the dodecagon. Seth, recovering consciousness, pursues Vic but too late. Instead, he discovers Al's grave. After Sean tells him that Ian has lied about Stan, Seth wonders whom he can trust. Underground: * Barry, having gradually earned rewards from Hamish, is allowed to `play' with both Abe and Jordan, each of whom discovers something about himself when playing the submissive role in a bdsm scene. In flashbacks: * Sean had tricked Miles into thinking he loved him, and had set him up with Vic, knowing that Vic, as one of the Twelve, would need an `issue' related to his homosexuality. * * * * * * * * THURSDAY, DECEMBER 20 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � AUGIE It was depressing, so many guys no longer here. Harry, Al, Vic, Stan � all captured by Hamish. With so many of us underground, Seth doesn't have many options for his daily fuck. He hadn't asked me because of the other thing he had to do to me. - Seth. - Yeah. Ready to go, Augie? - I've been thinking. - Rarely a bad thing. What's up? - I want to take my turn. - Your turn. - Being . . . under you. You can't ask Gary, so there's just Jasper and Tim. It's time I took my turn. - Augie, you're doing enough already. I hate that I have to use you as my latrine. - I'm getting used to it. Once it's over, the rest of the day is a piece of cake. - Augie, the fact that you're willing to bottom for me . . . I don't know how to say this: do you - ? - Do I accept that I'm gay? - Yes. - I guess I have to. I was attracted to Jordan � physically. And when I went underground, I met this guy I knew in high school � - Alfonso. - Yeah. And when I had sex with Alfonso . . . I was surprised. Once I got used to it � I . . . liked it. - Do you still think all homosexuals go to hell? That was an embarrassing question. But since coming to the island, I began to realize that Pastor Markson was wrong. All of the Twelve � even Ed to some extent � were queer. And some of them were among the best people I have ever known. I was slowly realizing that I had been brainwashed. I still believed in God and prayed to Him every night, but I knew He was a forgiving God � and if homosexuality was a sin, He would forgive me. But I didn't think it WAS a sin anymore. It was just a different way of loving someone. Let he who is without sin cast the first stone. We all sin. No one can cast that stone. But the sins I need to worry about include selfishness. Which is why I need to give myself to Seth, and not be selfish. - . . . No. Not anymore. - I'm proud of you, Augie. You've come a long way. It must have been difficult for you. - It was. - What about Jordan? - In what sense? - Would you get back together if you had the chance? - . . . I don't think so. . . . Jordan was my wake-up call, Seth. Jordan made me realize who I was. Maybe that was his purpose in life. I do believe God put us on this earth to serve a purpose, and maybe that was part of Jordan's. But I can't ever forgive him for lying to me. And down there, he was really enjoying having sex � with other guys. - That's too bad. I was hoping it would work out for you two. - Not every story has a fairy-tale ending. - A shame that it doesn't. THE THRONE ROOM � BARRY Life was improving. When the plane crashed, or whatever it did, and I wound up here as Hamish's personal canine, I thought life couldn't get much lower. Here I was, a goddam bdsm master, and I was being fucked regularly like a goddam twink, forced to wear a puppy-dog-tail dildo and walk on all fours, wiggling my ass so my tail would wag. It was the most humiliating few days of my life. But Hamish knew the real me � we had played together in Santo Domingo (although I did not approve of the ways he 'played'), and he knew that my inner being cried out to dominate. And he had promised me that I would regain that role � eventually. So I played the good dog and hoped I would earn his trust and gain some rewards. And I did. Gradually, I began to earn favors in the form of fucking privileges. First, there was Phil, although that was an episode I'd rather forget. Then I got access to Abe, followed by Jordan: I gave them both a good hiding � and a good riding. Both enthusiastically welcomed my attentions. By now most of my sex is as a top. Hamish still has his way with me, but only occasionally. And now that Abe is once again Percy's pet pussycat, I can do him pretty much whenever I want � if Percy's not around. That was the problem. Hamish's partner has a jealousy streak as wide as the isthmus of Panama. And this morning he walked in while I was putting it to the Trigger Man's boyfriend with all the gusto I could muster. Percy threw what could charitably be called a hissy-fit. He ordered me out of the sexy young academician. I didn't even have a chance to flog him. And then Percy laid down the law: Abe was HIS exclusive property. I was not to touch him. Well, that just wasn't fair. When Hamish came in, I waddled over to him in my best doggy-walk and rose up on my knees with my paws � okay, my hands � curled over to simulate a dog begging for treats. This always gladdened Hamish's heart and he reached over and petted me gently on the head. - Oh, what a good boy you are, Barry. Do you want a reward? - Yes, Master, if it would please you. It didn't please everybody, however. Percy stuck his oar in. - (Percy) He has NOT been a good boy, Hamish. He's been sniffing around Derisian way too often � and by `sniffing around' I mean fucking. - (Hamish) Oh, Perce, I think my little poochy deserves a little recreation with your kitty, doesn't he? - (Percy) No. I want exclusive use of him, Hamish, for the remainder of what time he has left. I've cut off Barry's access to him. I expect you to support me in this. - (Hamish) Boy, Percy is my husband. I cannot deny him this request. Do you understand? - Yes, Master, of course. But a man has needs. I have rather . . . special needs. You knew me in Santo Domingo, you know what I'm referring to. - (Hamish) I do. - You have been generous in allowing me to indulge myself with some of your . . . other guests. If I could continue to do so . . . with somebody. Jordan Murdock, for example. - (Hamish) Perce? - (Percy) Let him fuck anybody he pleases, as long as he doesn't touch my pussy. That is, his pussy's pussy. - (Hamish) Very well. Barry, you have free rein to play with anyone you please other than Derisian. Anyone I wanted? I would start with Jordan. And maybe even end there, although I had a hankering to redden the rump of that delectable young man with the jockstrap. Paul, his name was. And maybe savage that handsome little Black boy � although those dreadlocks would have to go. Who knows � I might even pillage that fit British knight, he looks worthy of getting his comeuppance. What had started off as a very bad day had turned into something very good indeed. THE PHALLIC TOWER � IAN Seth was off humiliating Augie as per requirements, and I felt the grass growing under my feet. I was itching to go see how Stan was doing, but I'd have to find an excuse for a three-hour wander: an hour of walking each way, and time for hanky-panky (and a little conversation) once I got there. I was stuck chatting with Theo, who wanted to talk sports. He was very into what he called `athletics', and the exploits of a pair of Bahamian sprinters who had recently come into prominence. My idea of `athletics' was American baseball, especially the Cleveland Guardians, but I let him indulge me in his fantasies of the Bahamas becoming a world power rivaling the United States and Jamaica in short-distance track and field. I wound up going for a walk, but not the one I wanted. Sean proposed that we go on a fruit run. We had bananas and a couple of breadfruit, but Sean said he knew where there were some guava trees, which would provide a variation in our diet. Theo, being bored (as we all often were) decided to accompany us. We headed off toward the southeast, a direction we hadn't explored much. The ground kept rising, which was surprising, as the island had not been formed in the mold of Guadeloupe, Martinique, or other volcanic islands in the Lesser Antilles. I had to remind myself that we were hundreds of miles west of there and that the island was created from whole cloth and not the natural mechanics of geology. We arrived at a promontory that could reasonably qualify as a cliff. Sean surveyed the area in disgust. - Damn! I was sure it was here. I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. I know it's along this section of the coast, but I'm not sure whether to go north or south from here. Let me go over to the edge and see if I can see along the coast better. I was a bit nonplussed at Sean's disorientation. Being from Stimulever's home office, I would assume he would know every inch of this island � and not get lost. Sean wandered over to the edge of the cliff, as Theo and I warned him to be careful. All of a sudden I heard him call out: - Holy shit! There are people down there! I think there's been another escape! Another escape? Was that even possible? We were nowhere near the exit point the Egress Room led to. But if the escape had been a day or two ago, maybe they could have moved far enough east to have reached here � where Hamish would be less likely to search. I joined him to check it out. Theo, skeptical, stayed put. Until Sean exclaimed: - That's � there's a Black guy down there. Ian, is that Piers? I reached the precipice and peered over the edge. There was no beach down below, just a series of jagged rocks with waves crashing majestically against them. But, hearing Piers's name, Theo came rushing over. He gazed down over the edge of the cliff, seeing, as I did, only rocks and no beach occupied by any group of escaped prisoners. - (Theo) Where? I don't see anybody. Up the coast? - (Sean) Maybe if you get a little closer, Theo. See? Over there. Theo moved forward for a better view. As he did, Sean deftly stepped behind the Bahamian, placed his hand on the small of his back, and shoved. NASSAU, THE BAHAMAS (ALPHAWORLD) � THEO - Piers, I just had the weirdest dream. It was about our trip to Aruba, only we never got there. Our plane broke apart mid-air, and the next thing I knew we were on an island with ten other guys. We got separated and the flight attendant was hunting us down, and when he caught me he raped me. - He raped you??? - Yeah, and then he sent me to this underground enclave where everybody was naked and you and I and a lot of others were getting fucked on a regular basis. - Fascinating. A homoerotic dream and you're not even gay. - That's why it's so weird. Anyway, this kid organized an escape and we joined it, but we got caught and you and I got bound in a chair twenty-four/seven while being fucked by machines under our seats for hours on end. - This is making me hot, dude. - This big guy, heroic type, managed to free me and some others � but not you. We went back up to the surface where several men, also naked, were living in a tower shaped like a giant penis � - Whoa, Theo, a giant penis? I think you should definitely reconsider how straight you are. - Totally straight, Piers, I swear. Then one day two guys took me for a walk and one of them pushed me off a cliff. Which is when I woke up. - Leaving me still in that chair getting fucked by a machine? - So far as I know, yeah. - Damned inconsiderate of you, Theo. So, considering that dream � you sure you aren't secretly gay? - Whoa, keep your hands off me, bro. - Just joshing. Now, want to discuss plans for next season? We haven't done Shakespeare in a while. - I've always wanted to do The Tempest. - Excellent. But we'll need something commercial and low-brow to balance it. - What about that new play based on Star Trek? - Ah. We could market them as a pair: "Live long and Prospero." - Very enterprise-ing. EN ROUTE TO THE PHALLIC TOWER � SEAN Ian didn't know that last night I had asked Theo what his favorite tropical fruit was, and he replied `guavas'. I knew there were no guava trees on the island, but I invented an imaginary grove in order to entice Theo to join us. Theo might get suspicious if I asked him to join us, but if it was HIS idea . . . Ian was a little shocked at Theo's death. I don't know why, he knew it had to be done. - Man, Sean, that was brutal. - Remember, Ian, Theo is fine in Alphaworld. He and Piers will be back in Nassau by now. - Still . . . I mean . . . - Remember the objective. The Beta-versions of the left-siders have to die, or The Twelve face a horrific future. Hey, that yarn seemed to work so far, I'll keep spinning it. I added: - So now it's two down, one to go. My suggestion that a left-sider was still alive took him aback, as intended. But he recovered quickly. - Well, Hamish will take care of him in due time. It's his responsibility now, not ours. - What's his responsibility, Ian? - Stan. Now that he's underground, if Hamish has to kill him, he will. - He's not underground, Ian. - What are you talking about, Sean? I saw him go. The penis garden took him. - No, it didn't. He's not underground. - What makes you think that? - I asked Hamish. - . . . I thought you couldn't communicate with Hamish. - I lied. Ian broke out in a sweat. I had him by the short hairs, and he knew it. What he didn't know was that my cold-blooded murder of Theo had not been cold-blooded at all. It had been excruciatingly difficult, but I couldn't let Ian know that. I needed him to think, `Sean could kill me, too.' At the moment, Ian exists only in Betaworld. When he came to the island, he disappeared from Alphaworld except in Seth's memory, and the (temporary) memory of anyone Seth mentioned Ian to. Because Seth was the trigger, Thibaut told me there was the theoretical possibility that, if and when Seth returned to Alphaworld, Ian would be restored there, even if he had `died' on the island. But Thibaut wasn't certain. Were I to kill Ian now, most likely he would be dead-dead, not just Beta-dead. Contrary to what Ian might think, I am not a murderer. Had Theo been the only Theo in existence, I couldn't have pushed him off the cliff. If Ian is the only Ian in existence, I can't murder him. Nor can I stand by idly and let Jordan and Miles � who have no Alpha-lives � die. Which is, ironically, why I have to make sure all left-siders are (Beta-) dead. I had to somehow convince Ian to hold to his word and terminate Stan. . . . Or do I? If Ian could lie to me, could I not lie to Stimulever? If Stan stayed well away from a penis garden and avoided the dodecagons (which could detect body weight), Hamish would have no way of knowing that Stan wasn't dead. Theo's body, after all, would probably wash out to sea. I could say that Stan's did, too. We pushed them both off the cliff at the same time. THE WESTERN BEACH � SETH When I relieved myself onto Augie, we went to a place a little downstream from where we collected water. He needed to wash off afterwards, and I wanted no possibility that any of the resultant effluvium would foul our drinking water, as unlikely as that might be. Today, however, Augie proposed that we go to the beach, so that he could rinse off in the ocean. The salt water might be better at wiping out the residual odor, and he might feel cleaner. A good suggestion. The only problem was that his feet and legs would get covered with sand when he came out of the water, so we would need to stop by the creek anyway on the way back to rinse off. When he felt clean enough to emerge from the ocean, I fucked him, right there on the beach. I went into the water myself � I had forgotten how refreshing it could be to swim nude in the ocean. Both of us were covered with sand by the time we coupled, and I shot my load up his relatively unused rump, loving the feel of the gritty sand adding friction between our copulating bodies. Augie didn't seem to mind it, either. He complimented me afterwards, saying I was `almost as good as Alfonso'. He seemed to think it was a compliment, anyway. I thought: `Alfonso is a better fucker than I am?' But then I got a sense of perspective. I didn't have to be his favorite fucker. I had to be Abe's favorite fucker. And I was thrilled that Augie was taking it up the ass, and learning to like it. NEAR THE PHALLIC TOWER � SEAN When I returned to the tower, Seth and Augie were returning from their expedition. Jasper, assuming (as I had) that the purpose of their trip had been purely scatological, asked Seth if he wanted Jasper to serve as his sub today. Augie piped up that he had taken on that role today, and that he had surprisingly enjoyed it. An idea occurred to me. I suddenly had an impetus for having a conversation with Augie. A missing piece in the grand plan. But first, I needed another conversation with Hamish. THE PHALLIC TOWER/ THE MEADOW � AUGIE I wasn't expecting to be treated like some kind of hero. But when Jasper found out I had voluntarily bottomed for Seth, he was so effusive in his praise that it spread among all the tower residents. Tim came up and offered his encouragement. He confessed it had been difficult for him to bottom for Seth, given that he stuck mostly to oral sex and took the active role when it came to anal. Ian and Sean had gone out in search of guavas, but had come back empty-handed, due to Sean's faulty memory. But Ian overheard about my sex with Seth and patted me on the back. Sean looked at me with something like admiration � I hadn't really dealt much with Sean, and was surprised when he said he wanted to ask me something he thought I'd be interested in, but could I give him a few minutes first. I said sure, curious about why he'd want to talk to me. The only people who didn't approach me were Gary and Theo. Theo was off somewhere � call of nature, perhaps, or maybe just a constitutional; anyway, he was safe from the dodecagons � he wasn't a Twelve � and had nothing to worry about if the penis gardens were, indeed, off. Gary was in Cody mode, and Cody would want no part of any conversation about sex. It was odd how I could tell what persona Gary was just by how he walked. I was grateful he was not Ray, and asked the others not to mention my morning adventure to Ray; I didn't want him to think I might be receptive if he made another attempt to fuck me. Sean came back from wherever he had been, and said `let's go for a walk". I wasn't sure why we needed to go for a walk for him to ask me what he wanted to ask me, but I knew it was safe. It was past my birthday, so I didn't think a dodecagon could get me anymore. And even if the penis gardens were active, Sean could lend me a sock to protect me if necessary. We set out along the meadow, when he made a surprising offer. - Augie, you didn't have to do what you did this morning. - I know, it just seemed the right thing to do, I didn't want Jasper and Tim to be the only ones. Everyone needs to play his part. - Except Gary. - Well, yeah, Gary's different. It's okay. It's like � maybe I'm taking his turn for him. - You weren't supposed to have to do two things. I think I can get you out of one of them. My heart leapt at this news. - Seriously? - Seriously. Which one would you rather get out of � as if I can't guess. - Yeah, you can guess. I'll bottom for Seth again, if I don't have to � - Take his crap? - Literally. How can you, you know, arrange it? - Something I didn't tell you. Or anybody else, it will just be our secret, okay? - Okay. Wow, Sean trusted me enough to give me a secret? I was going to have to reassess my opinion of him. When he appeared in his helicopter so soon after our escape, I was immediately suspicious. And even though he helped us find the others at the phallic tower � after it had been moved � I questioned his motivations. He worked for Stimulever � why should he go out of his way to help us? But it looked like he was going out of his way to help me. I needed to hear more. - So how can you get me out of being pissed and shat upon? - I've told everyone I can't contact Hamish. But I can. It's a little risky, but I've got a phone hidden in the hollow of a tree. I use it to talk to Hamish. If he knows that you're voluntarily bottoming for Seth, he might be able to get you out of the shit clause. - I thought it was necessary for `the physics', whatever that means. - Switzerland will have to run some simulations. If it's still okay, we'll spring you from that requirement. - Man, that's great. - I'll show you the phone. In fact, I'll call him while you're there, you can hear for yourself what he thinks. We walked along the meadow for another fifteen minutes. He said it was another five minutes or so. But before we got there . . . THE MEADOW � SEAN Augie reacted when he saw it. - Oh, gosh, a penis garden. Quick, lend me one of your socks. - You don't need a sock. It's off. - But it got Al. And Stan. - Do you know where I was this morning? I called Hamish to check that these things were switched off. They HAD been on, and that's why Al and Stan were captured but after I called, Hamish made sure they were off. He doesn't want someone to wander into one accidentally before it's their time to go downstairs, and that WOULD disrupt `the physics'. When the truth doesn't work, try the exact opposite. The penis portals had been off, and I called Hamish a few minutes ago to have them switched on. I needed to give him some time � it needed to be done from Switzerland, and Hamish had to wait to the top of the hour to contact them, but fortunately when I called him, it was ten minutes to. So by now they should be active. I would find out soon enough. - God, it is beautiful, though, isn't it, Sean? Yeah, it's active. - Go ahead, Augie. Go up and embrace the phallus. It's perfectly safe. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH Jasper came running up to me. - Seth! - Yeah, what? - Look! I turned my head toward where he was pointing. In the distance, something tall and thin poked high up into the sky. And its end was something thicker, like the nub at the end of a pencil with a slide-on eraser. Only this nub was wriggling. - Shit! Sean told me they were off. - Yeah, well it looks like this one is on. It got somebody. Who do you think it is? - Who's still here? - Ian, Gary, Tim. I haven't seen Theo in a while. - Damn it to hell. Theo. It fits. I don't know why I trusted him. - Theo? - Sean. Al, Stan, Theo � all taken by a damn penis garden. The three left-siders who escaped. Al, of course, had another fate, but Jasper didn't know that. Suddenly, the tall pole vanished, slipping into the earth with its human cargo. Sean must have been sent here to retrieve the left-siders for Hamish. Or dispose of them. - Seth? - Yeah? - Sean's not here either. Do you think he has a hand in this? - Oh, yeah, Jasper. I think he's ass-deep in this. - Then it might not be Theo. - What do you mean? - I saw Sean go off with Augie. MILES'S CELL � MILES - Thank you for your contribution. When I tie these together, they'll make a cute little mini-flogger. Well, you've got a cute little ass on your cute little body, I imagine they'll be a good warm-up before I turn to something more serious. I felt naked without my dreads. That seems like a stupid thing to say, given that I've been actually naked for the last ten days, ever since Vic and I made love in the meadow and I stupidly wandered into the penis garden. But down here (aside from Hamish and Percy) everyone is naked, and I've gotten used to it � it feels completely natural. But taking away my dreads makes me FEEL naked. His name was Barry. When I'd seen him before, he was usually on all fours with a puppy-dog tail sticking out of his ass. He was Hamish's pet pooch. But today, he swaggered into my room, with none of the subservience to Hamish previously evident. As if HE was Hamish and could do what he pleased. He arrived with a knife, a razor and a long paddle, and his first act was to use the knife to sever my dreads. They weren't that long, only about eight inches, but they were still my identity. Then he used the razor to shave my head. He didn't stop there. I had tight little curls all over my body, and soon tight little curls littered the floor. After making me sweep them up, he fucked me. Barry was, I have to admit, well-hung, and he was an excellent fucker. I was used to getting plowed by a mammoth organ � Vic was huge � and the sex was the highlight of Barry's visit. Then he pulverized my ass, swinging the paddle full force with both hands. He made me count the swats out loud � one sir, two sir � as if he was my master and not Hamish's dog. I wonder if Hamish knew about this. We were up to `eighty-seven, sir' when I heard a voice: - Hey! Leave him alone! Barry stepped away to see who had the temerity to address him with that degree of sternness. I didn't need to look. I recognized that voice. That was Vic. VIC! When I was topside with Jordan, I had learned about the dodecagons � essentially traps designed to capture each of the Twelve on their respective birthdays. And I knew that Vic's birthday was December 19th � yesterday. Only I'd gotten so caught up in the day-to-day affairs of life in this brutal environment that I'd failed to put two and two together. So hearing Vic's voice came as a complete shock to me. Vic outweighed Barry by a good bit and it was all muscle, but Hamish's puppy dog was not particularly intimidated by that fact. - Ah, it's the musclebound physical trainer. What do they call you? Torrance. They're real intimate down here, they're on a last name basis. Well, Torrance, let me finish up here and you can have sloppy seconds if you like. From the looks of you, that's what you'd like. Barry added on thirteen quick strokes of the paddle to get me up to an even hundred and then left my cell, leaving me rubbing my sore behind, and slowly turning around to face a man who adored me, but about whom I had ambivalent feelings. - Oh, God, Miles, I'm so glad you're alive. His face � and body � conveyed a multitude of emotions. The reason for Barry's last sentence was obvious � Vic's interest in me was evident and parallel to the floor. His face was filled with love, adoration, relief � and something else. I wasn't sure what, but it was complex. He rushed over and hugged me. I hugged back, pushing his giant cock out of the way to avoid getting poked in the belly-button. The warmth of his powerful arms on my bare skin, the tension in his thighs as they pressed against mine, his dozens of tattoos, the very smell of him � were like the world's most powerful aphrodisiac, and soon I was as hard as he was, and we grabbed each other's cocks with one hand while the other curled around a waist. - I see you missed me, too. Well, my body sure did, even minutes after having had sex. But he continued, and it was time for that complex part of his face to emerge. It looked like doubt. - You did, didn't you? I apologize for asking, but Al said that � - Al? - Little white guy, twenty or so? Oh, him. Casey, they called him. Last name basis, as Barry had said. Shit. We had shared a Fuck Room experience, possibly because we were of a similar size (though I had an inch or two on him in both places you might think to measure). And I had blurted out something I shouldn't have. I would have to tell Vic the truth. Vic was a decent guy, the sex was great, and I was fond of him. But was it love? Maybe if I'd never met Sean, it could have developed � I'll never know. But I embarked upon that relationship head-over-heels in love with Sean, and Vic � well, it wasn't quite the same. But I didn't want to hurt him. Fortunately, he continued on before I needed to respond. - Al said you were fooling your boyfriend and were really in love with someone else. I thought: was I that boyfriend? Were you just stringing me along? I was jealous, Miles. But Al was lying, right? He made up that story? Ian said you told him you were still in love with me � yes? Okay, moment of truth. I did not want to lie to Vic. Neither did I want to tell him the truth. Maybe I could tell part of the truth. - I may not have used those exact words to Ian. I barely knew who Ian was � the lieutenant who escaped. I'm not sure that he said more than two words to me. Surely, we had never had a conversation about Vic. - And then Sean said that when he was down here, he could tell you still loved me. `Sean'? Vic knew Sean? MY Sean? It was a common name, but there was no `Sean' among the Twelve. But if MY Sean had ever been underground, he hadn't stopped off to see me. - When you say `Sean', do you mean - ? - Sean. The guy who brought you and Jordan to the island. - He's back? - You don't know he's back? He said he'd been down here, he spoke to you. - Vic, Jordan told me he was coming back to the island, but the last time I saw Sean, he was getting into his helicopter and flying away. That was two weeks ago. - But you do still love me, right? I had to come clean with Vic, but now was not the time. I could read the anxiety in his face, and I just couldn't say it. It was such a handsome face besides, and his scent � I mean, how can you tell a guy you don't love him when you have hold of his cock and pre-cum is dripping out of yours? And he was a sweet guy, I just couldn't do it now. - Yes, I love you, Vic. And maybe at that moment I did, who knows? I felt something for the guy, that was for sure. But that look on his face reappeared � that complex something that was more than just love. It hadn't gone away with the assurance that he had my love. There was something else. Something that looked like . . . pain. - What is it? - Oh, Miles, I do so love you. But I did something terrible. For you. - What? What could you do that's so terrible? You're not a terrible person. - I killed a man. - . . . (WTF?) - . . . - Do you want to talk about it? - No. But I have to. It was Al � the guy who lied about you. - You killed him because he lied about me??? - No. I couldn't do that. But � you know about this Project, right? Oh yes. I know about The Project � although I don't think I know ENOUGH about The Project. But it was the reason we were both here, and the reason we got together in the first place. - Ian said that if the Project fails, we're all in for the most miserable year of our lives � and you and I will be apart � but if it succeeds, we'll be together, and happy. But for the Project to succeed, it needs all the left-siders to die, including Al. But they won't really be dead, just here in Betaworld, because back in the real world, they're still fine. - And you killed Al? YOU did? - . . . Yeah. I did. - Why you? - They said if I didn't � if Al didn't die, that they would kill you and Jordan instead. Miles, I couldn't let that happen. I know you don't exist anymore in Alphaworld, so if they killed you, you'd be really dead, while Alpha-Al would be fine back in Syracuse. That's why I let the dodecagon take me. I needed to be here with you, Miles. I won't let them kill you � if necessary I'll step in as a replacement. You've only got one life, I've got two. - Vic, that's sweet. But, Vic? - Yeah? - How do you know you have two? - Sean told me that � - You only have Sean's word that you're still alive in Alphaworld. - You don't think I can trust his word? - At this point, I don't think we can trust anybody. That may have been the truest thing I said in the whole conversation. How much of what Sean had told me could I trust? Did he love me as he'd professed � or had he just been manipulating me into advancing The Project? He had lied to Vic about me � had he lied about Betaworld? I was convinced we were in an alternate universe, but did Vic exist simultaneously in both places? Did Al? What if there was no Alpha-Al, and he was actually dead? Then Vic was a murderer! I hoped Vic wasn't asking that question � but I felt certain he was. And he had done it . . . for me. I was beginning to suspect I'd been in love with the wrong man. Why couldn't I have seen it before? It was more than just sex. Vic was � Vic was someone I could love, if only I gave myself the chance. But I had just lied to him about what I had said to Al Casey. And I was sitting prominently on the horns of a dilemma. If I told Vic the truth about Sean, I would lose him. But if I wanted to keep him, I couldn't sustain that relationship on a lie that would last forever. Sometimes the decisions you make in life just suck. NEAR THE PHALLIC TOWER � SEAN - Hamish. - Hello, Sean. Got your latest delivery. - Augie? - Stapleton, yes. Switzerland can turn the penis portals back off? - Yes, we don't need them anymore. - So, let's just check on the parameters. The left-siders? - All dead. Torrance strangled Casey, you know. - Yes, he was very forthright about that when we asked him about it. I think he's regretting that now. - He won't. He's looking forward to life with Miles King after this is all over. - King is going to be executed on the 29th or the 31st. Not if I can help it. - And this morning, we pushed Sebold and Kowalczyk off a cliff. Ian and I, one apiece. - Excellent. So much for the left-siders. Now, did Herrick relieve himself on Stapleton every day? - Every day. Stapleton will confirm that. - He'll have to go back to his enema routine here. - That won't make him happy. - The Project isn't about happy. It's about achieving an objective. - And Herrick's fucked a Twelve every day. Stapleton even volunteered today, a surprise. - Also excellent. So he's just got the last objective to accomplish while he's on the surface. - Which won't happen until after Christmas, of course. - Of course. You have to make sure he does it, Sean. It won't be something he's happy about doing. That was for sure. And if I never told him about it, it might just ruin the Project. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT � THE THING WITH FEATHERS]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-29	Date: Sat, 13 Apr 2024 14:34:33 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 29 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: AFTERMATH Previously: * Aided by Ian, Seth collects Stan, Al, and Augie for his escape attempt. Searching for Abe, he discovers that Jordan has switched locations with Abe. Stefan and Lucas are acting as Abe's guards, but when Seth and crew invade, Seth knocks Stefan out cold. Lucas, panicking, presses a button which seals Abe into a wall; Seth, enraged that his attempt to free Abe has been foiled, attacks Lucas and kills him. They take Stefan and Lucas's corpse to the Dark Room, freeing Theo (who is in bondage there), and make their escape to the surface. * Ed arrives underground, and is greeted by a man from his past, Ryan Mackenzie, now called Mac. * Days earlier, Miles is captured by a penis garden, causing a disruption in Stimulever's plans. Although Miles is Vic's boyfriend, he actually loves Sean, with whom he cohabited in Minneapolis; Miles is unaware that Sean's true target is Seth. * * * * * * * * FRIDAY, DECEMBER 14 * * * * * * * * THE MEADOW � SETH I recognized the surroundings; it was near the place where Vic had made love to Miles before Miles had been speared by the penis garden. But something was wrong. From here, we should be able to see the Phallic Tower to the north. And it wasn't visible, despite crystal-clear weather. - Ian, the tower's gone. - (Augie) No wonder I didn't recognize where we were. - (Al) Tower? - It's where we were staying. It should be about a half mile to our north. But it's not there. - (Ian) I knew there was a tower, but I don't know anything about its location. - Could they have taken it to a different universe? - (Ian) Seth, there's just Betaworld and Alphaworld. This island exists only in Betaworld. If they moved the tower to Alphaworld, it would sink to the bottom of the sea. - (Augie) The dodecagons could move. - (Al) The what could move? - There's a lot to explain, Al. Just hang tight while we figure these things out. Augie, are you suggesting that if the dodecagons can move, the TOWER could move? - (Augie) Why not? - Ian? - (Ian) I have no idea. - Let's assume the tower is still on the island. If it were to the north, we should be able to see it. There's a lot more of this island to the south. I suggest we go that way. We've got to find Harry and the others. THE PHALLIC TOWER � HARRY So Seth had left me `in charge'. And what did I do? Trying to make peace between Ed and Vic, I had blurted out an offensive truth � that everyone suspected Ed's sexuality was more complex than he let on � causing Ed to storm out in a rage. On his birthday. And like others on their birthdays, he had not returned. We waited all day, but as the sun faded, it became obvious that the purple dodecagon had claimed him, even though he was supposedly following a path that had previously been dodecagon-free. But dodecagons could move � somehow. As if that mattered now: Ed had met his match � and perhaps his maker. Seth's absence was unnerving. I had no idea if he was alive or dead, or even in the same universe as the five of us. That's right � besides me, there were only four of us left at the repositioned Phallic Tower: Vic, Tim, Jasper and Gary. Vic had not been himself since Miles' appearance on the island � and especially since his disappearance. His sensitivity, coupled with Ed's insensitivity, had stirred up a volatile cocktail of emotions. He was not fun to be around, and while he professed that Ed's vanishing was `no loss', there was enough humanity in him to feel guilty about that honest sentiment, and he spent most of the time moping. Tim was a trooper � figuratively as well as literally. He was the one I knew least well � a former soldier who was now a sculptor specializing in figures of birds. He was no-nonsense but always cooperative and if he blamed me for Ed's possible demise, he didn't vocalize it. Jasper had been the most supportive. He confessed to me his struggles with sex addiction, and how difficult it had been remaining celibate for the past two weeks. I suspect he was comfortable talking to me because I didn't tempt him at all. I admired the way he was working with Gary, whose hard body and large cock should have turned him on as much as it did me; I wondered if Jasper had donated his pants to Gary to cover him up, decreasing the temptation. And then, of course, there was the triune Gary � buy one, get three. Gary was sweet, but didn't show up often enough. Ray, when dominant, seemed to be making overtures toward Jasper, which bothered me as well as Jasper. Cody was often the compromise when issues of sexuality raised themselves too prominently for Gary to handle. I had no game plan. Seth was gone; what was there to do but wait? We had found both water and food, the water bottles had accompanied the Phallic Tower to its new location, and we'd seen no dodecagons. So there were things to be grateful for. But it was the fourteenth of December, and the next birthday on the list was mine. In three days. And I didn't have a clue how to prevent my own capture. To be honest, I wasn't sure I wanted to. I wasn't doing much good up here. And maybe I'd be reunited with Seth. If he was still alive. I was hoping he'd managed to find Abe. JORDAN'S CELL � ABE I yelled my head off, to no avail. I pounded the wall, to no avail. There was nothing I could do to free myself from this dark, cramped space. And I could hear nothing through the wall, no inkling of what had happened after Lucas had pushed the button and slid me into this virtual coffin. All I could do was try to find means of avoiding panic. I needed to calm down, something to occupy my brain that was peaceful. Mozart was good for that; I ran Eine Kleine Nachtmusik in my head over and over again. I don't know how long it took � probably no more than half an hour, but it seemed like an eternity. All of a sudden one side of my `coffin' flipped open, and my mattress slid back into the room. After the darkness, the light was too harsh and I shut my eyes as hands released me from the chains that had bound me. I felt a hand softly caressing the back of my head. I opened my eyes to the sight of Percy, looking concerned. Behind him were Hamish and several lieutenants. - (Percy) There you are, pussycat. Safe and sound. - (Hamish) Where are Stefan and Lucas? - I don't know. They knocked out Stefan � he was lying on the floor. Lucas sealed me inside. I don't know what happened after that. - (Hamish) Stefan was unconscious? - Seth slugged him pretty good. Where is Seth, do you know? - (Hamish) He went to the surface. Who was with him? - The only one I knew was Ian. Three others I didn't recognize. - (Hamish) Probably Kowalczyk � Ian was advocating for him. I hope the others weren't Omi and Eton. But Stefan and Lucas were both here when you entered the security recess? - Yeah. Stefan was on the floor, and Lucas was right there, by the button. - (Percy) Do you think they're on the surface? - (Hamish) Six people went up the Egress Pole. Herrick, Ian, and � you said three others? - Three that I saw. - (Hamish) So that makes five who escaped. The sixth could be Lucas. He might have sealed Derisian away as a precaution and then took advantage of the opportunity to escape. - (Percy) Then where's Stefan? - (Hamish) Good question. Orson, Anthony � get the other lieutenants and initiate a room-by-room search. We've got to find those two � and figure out exactly who went with Herrick to the surface. So Seth had made it. I was both pleased and disappointed. He said he had come to get me, and here I was, still Percy's pet. I thought Seth was safer on the surface, but it meant we were once again separated. A zillion questions raced through my mind. WAS Seth safe on the surface? Would he make another attempt to rescue me? Would I ever see him again? Would I ever get out of here? Would we ever get off this island? Could there please, please be a happily-ever-after that somehow comes out of all this? It didn't seem likely. ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND � JES�S Germ�n came in with the message. - (Germ�n) Chief, the Trigger's back on the surface. - Good. Derisian? - Still underground. Herrick apparently tried to rescue him, but failed. But Ian was able to persuade Herrick to go to the surface anyway. - Just the two of them? - Oh, no. Six. - Six?! - Another Twelve member, Stapleton. And three left-siders, Casey, Kowalczyk, and Sebold. Casey and Sebold were involved in the first escape attempt and must have realized that their survival time was limited. Kowalczyk was Ian's charge, and it's believed an attachment was formed there. - I thought Sebold was fixed to a chair he couldn't get up from. - He was. But Percy had allowed Ian access to him and had given him the key to unlock him. So we think Ian must have freed him, though we don't know why. But . . . there's more. - Why do I sense I don't want to hear this? - Heidekker's dead. - Heidekker's DEAD? - His neck was broken. The group went to free Derisian, and Herrick attacked Stefan and knocked him unconscious. We presume it was he who killed Heidekker, but have no direct evidence. - Get Thibaut and Dolph in here. We've got to run more simulations and see what this does to the physics. We've got to salvage this Project, and they keep throwing curves at us. If there are new parameters that still make this work, we've got to communicate them to Hamish. - What if they involve Herrick? Ian needs to know them and Hamish can't contact him. - Has Sean arrived in Aruba? - He has, and is awaiting instructions. - Good. Tell him to wait until we have the new parameters, then transfer to Betaworld and go to the island. Sean can convey the parameters to Ian in person. We can trust Ian, can't we? - He got Herrick to the surface. - Herrick may need to know the parameters, as well, if his behavior is relevant. We'll see what Dolph comes up with. THE MEADOW � SETH Shit, I forgot about the penis garden. The penis garden that had ensnared both Miles and me, and maybe some of the left-siders, was just south of where Vic and Miles had been fucking prior to Miles' capture. After five minutes, we saw the big black phallus � and, all of us being naked, it was singing to us. - (Augie) God, look at that. It's beautiful. He headed toward it. - Augie, no! The fool was walking slowly toward the penis garden � which I realized he had probably never seen. It would zap him back underground, less than an hour after he had escaped � and who knew what Hamish would do to him then. I was as vulnerable as Augie in my nudity, and I felt its seductive pull. It wanted me, and somehow I wanted it, but there was enough awareness in my brain of its dangers to keep me from dashing to embrace it. The surge of adrenalin in my bloodstream was charged by my need to protect Augie, which, in the moment, overpowered my impulse to love the phallus. I took off in pursuit of Augie, hoping to reach him before he strode onto the penis garden. Behind me, I heard Ian yell out "Don't look at the phallus!" I knew that clothing would protect me, but was it possible to avoid its seduction by looking away? I kept my eyes firmly focused on Augie, who fortunately was just striding forward at a calm pace, and was able to tackle him, immediately averting my eyes; the moment I did so, I felt the seductive powers diminish. - (Ian, calling out) Turn around. He was talking to the others. I looked back and saw them all facing away from the phallus. Ian, keeping his head to the side and observing me only through his peripheral vision, trotted out backwards to join me and escort Augie back to safety. - (Augie) But it's so beautiful. - That's what you said about the dodecagon, remember? - Uh . . . yeah, I did. And it was, Seth. It was beautiful. Jordan thought so, too � I think. - Augie, it took you underground � just like this would have. - (Stan) This isn't where Al and I were captured. There are more places like this. - Augie, if you see another phallus, stay clear of it, okay? - (Augie) Okay. We continued walking south until the meadow ended in a grove of trees. Which created an issue. In the woods, we wouldn't be able to see the Phallic Tower � if, indeed, it still existed. - Let's head west. I don't think it's too far to the coast. And if we walk along the beach, it should be easier to spot the tower. - (Theo) And it will be easier on our feet than walking through the woods. It now being mid-afternoon, the sun had veered enough toward the west that we could use it as a compass. We had maybe three hours of daylight left; I hoped that would be enough for us to find the tower while it was still light. MILES'S CELL � MILES I was a jumble of emotions. I was a prisoner � and getting fucked daily, sometimes twice a day. The odd thing was � that was the best part of my day. They would take me to a room and plow the shit out of me. I had no choice but to submit to their desires, but I had lived my life submitting to powerful men who would take me as they wanted. I loved that sense of feeling helpless without actually being helpless. The sex took me out of the despair I felt the rest of the time; I so longed for human contact that was more than physical. I longed for conversation, I longed for a gentle touch, I longed for the look in someone's eyes that said `I love you' without a word needing to be spoken. In short, I longed for Sean. Sean, who had dragged me into this thing by encouraging me to initiate a relationship with Vic � for reasons he never fully explained. I didn't mind that much because the sex with Vic was great � my God, he knew how to use that massive cock of his. I knew in the back of my mind that Sean was manipulating me to further this mysterious Project that he was always flying off to Switzerland (and Cleveland) for, but I loved him so much that I allowed him to do that. Was I a fool? I had known Nick, and Sean had used me to feed him the password he needed as an entryway to break into Stimulever's website. And things had devolved from there. I met Jordan in Aruba, we got moved into this alternate universe and shipped to the island. And then Sean left me here. He LEFT me here! He said it was for our protection, but was it? I don't know where Jordan is, but three days after I arrived on the island, I found myself impaled on a giant dildo and whisked off to this underground prison. Where there was no Sean. Where I saw no one I knew. Only these men who called themselves `lieutenants' who would take me away for sex. They indicated that I was lucky: I wasn't being tortured, just fucked. I didn't mind being fucked. I minded being alone. In the four days of my captivity, I saw only one guy other than the lieutenants � a small man about twenty, fit, with a nice ass. I heard them call him Casey, though I think that was his last name, since they kept calling me `King'. Apparently he was on the plane with everyone I had met up on the surface, though it was unclear how he had wound up down here. Once each day, when I was taken into a Fuck Room, Casey was there as well. There were four fuckers, each of whom occupied one end of one of us, and they kept changing positions so that my mouth and ass were raped by all four of them, and so were Casey's. After spitroasting us both with multiple cocks, they made us fuck each other � first I fucked him, then he fucked me. At least that was the scenario the first two times I saw him. The third time, I only fucked him. He couldn't fuck me � he had been gelded. I didn't see him today � what had happened? This terrified me � was this to be my eventual fate? The fact that I first saw him with balls, and then without � was that a message? Was that their way of saying, "Miles, this is what we do down here, don't get used to being a complete man?" The guy was evidently straight, so not enjoying the sex at all. And why wasn't he there today? Some of the lieutenants hinted that perhaps not everyone down here survived their experience � had they done away with Mr. Casey? I wanted to keep my balls and I wanted to keep my life. Sean, where the hell are you and why did you do this to me? ARUBA � SEAN Thibaut and Dolph had run the simulations and had come up with new parameters, which Germ�n had texted to me. I found them rather surprising, but having them was such a powerful tool in my hand. All I had to do was convey MOST of them to Ian/Seth, but omit or alter one or two critical elements. That way, it would appear to Jes�s that I had done my job but that either Ian or Seth had fucked things up � and when the Project crashed, I would not be blamed for it. Ideally, Ian would be the fall guy. There was one aspect of the parameters that was problematic for me. The parameters required the deaths of everyone except the Twelve. That included not only the three left-siders who had emerged to the surface with Seth but all of the left-siders underground � and both Jordan and Miles. I didn't want to see Jordan dead � he was hot. Miles, while a good fuck, had served his purpose and was expendable. If I could keep them alive � or even just Jordan � maybe it would sabotage The Project. I had three motivations for taking down The Project: (1) to discredit Jes�s sufficiently enough that the Board would replace him as Chairman, hopefully with Ari; (2) to prevent the unfair assignment I had received were The Project to be launched; and (3) to take Seth home to Switzerland as my willing slave. The question was going to be timing. Jordan, like Miles, now existed only in Betaworld. Should the Project launch after his Beta-death, he would not be part of it. Should the Project fail after his Beta-death, things would revert back to Alphaworld, in which he currently did not exist. I wanted to have my cake � � la mode � and fuck it, too. I had to sabotage The Project, had to take Seth with me, and prevent Jordan's Beta-death before the critical moment. Time to head to the island. THE BEACH � SETH We reached the beach in what I guessed was a little over an hour. I was used to walking in the woods in bare feet (and bare everything else) but others found it difficult and were grateful when we reached the calm sand of the beach. And the vision of the tranquil ocean was itself calming. - (Theo) Whoa, what's that? He had spotted a pattern of shells in the sand some distance ahead. I knew what it was. I had been here before. I didn't feel like explaining, but knew I would have to. Theo trotted ahead to check it out. - (Theo) It says "Gin and Tipsy". - (Ian) Why does that sound familiar? Wait � you asked for it downstairs when you saw Abe. - It's a message Abe left for me. Private joke. We walked along the beach for another hour or so, as the sun started to fade. There was no sign of the Phallic Tower, and my confidence in our finding it before nightfall � or ever � was waning. A half-hour later and the sun was sinking fast, resulting in a beautiful sunset over the ocean. That was little consolation. - Looks like we'll have to camp out on the beach tonight. - (Stan) The mosquitoes should like that. - I don't think there are mosquitoes here. I've been naked for two weeks and never been bitten. Something they forgot to include. - (Al) Huh? Who's they, and how could `they' have forgotten to include mosquitoes? - Sorry, Al. Tonight, after we've hunkered down, I'll explain everything. So far as I know. Ian may know more than Augie and I do. - (Stan) The last time we slept on the beach, Al and I woke up in a different place. And alone. Someone moved us. We went to bed with clothes on and woke up naked. - Maybe you'll go to bed naked and wake up dressed this time. - (Al) I wish. I barely remember clothing. THE DORMITORY � PAUL - Ed! - (Ed) Yeah, I got stupid. Vic was saying racist stuff and then Harry was rude to me and I just walked off in anger and fell right into the trap. - (Dai) Have they . . . done stuff to you? - (Ed) I don't want to talk about it. - So they have. They have to all of us. Was it . . . someone you knew? - (Ed) How the hell did you know that? - (Dai) We've all run across someone we knew. I hate to tell you, Ed, we know you're straight � - (Ed) Damn right. - (Dai) But you're going to get fucked a lot here. That's what they do. We don't know why, but everybody that's come down has been used sexually several times a day. - (Ed) Yeah, well he did use me that way. Ryan Mackenzie. Ryan Fucking Mackenzie. - Mac? You knew Mac? - (Ed) Yeah. He threatened to knock out my teeth, but he didn't. - He might in the future. But don't worry, they'll grow back overnight. - (Ed) Huh? Listen, someone told me that Leo . . . Is he okay? I looked at Dai. Dai looked at me. Neither one of us knew what to say. Ed knew how to interpret the looks on our faces. - (Ed) Is he dead? I nodded. I wasn't going to tell him that I was wearing a jockstrap made out of Leo's skin. - (Ed) Beatrice will skin me alive. The irony of his phrasing did not escape either Dai or me. Nor did we miss the fact that he seemed less concerned with the loss of his son than over the reaction his wife would have. My mind flashed back to the first night in the Tower, when Leo had not yet appeared, and Ed had said something similar. Loving father, huh? - (Ed) Are the others dead, too? Augie and Lucas and Jordan and Miles? - We don't know. We're hoping Augie escaped with Seth. - (Ed) So Seth did get here. - (Dai) He was hoping to bust out his boyfriend, Abe. He thought he found an escape route, but we don't know if he was successful. He was going to take Abe and Augie with him. Lucas has been with us here in the dormitory, but we haven't seen him for hours � he should have been back by now. - Jordan and Miles � we don't even know who they are. I mean, I thought Jordan was Augie's girlfriend. - (Ed) Hah! Pervert was some kind of trans-something, I don't pretend to understand these things. - And Miles � that's Vic's lover, right? We never met him either. So if we've seen him, we wouldn't even know it. - (Ed) Tell me about Leo. Okay, time to lie. Or at least shade the truth. - Leo was very brave. He was working with one of the guards who was going to help him find a way out of here. He organized an escape attempt, which was bold and very courageous � - (Ed) Sounds like foolishness to me, but go on. - But the guard betrayed him and they caught him. Hamish � do you know who Hamish is? - (Ed) The big cheese, yes. - Hamish decided to make an example of him, and . . . I'm sorry. Ed, for the first time, showed some emotion that was not self-directed. It had been clear from the very first that father and son were at odds with each other, mostly over the fact that Leo was gay and Ed was homophobic. But Leo was still Ed's son and I think it was only at that moment that Ed really felt the loss. For reasons deeper than the fact that his wife would be upset. Dai tried to hug him in consolation, but Ed pushed him away. We were all naked, and Ed was not yet ready for another naked man � a gay naked man � to embrace him. I felt sorry for the man, in so many ways. And then turned my attention to a more curious issue � why the hell hadn't Lucas come back? Had he escaped with them? THE BEACH - SETH Just then I heard something I had heard about a week before. I recognized the sound instantly � it was a helicopter. The sound grew closer and closer until it appeared over the tops of the trees that were a few yards from the beach. It paused, hovering almost directly overhead, then flew a bit north, slowly. I postulated that whoever was inside had spotted us, and was scouting out landing spots. At least, I hoped so. My theory was validated when the whirlybird descended and set down about fifty yards north of our location, on the grassy plateau above the surface of the beach. The first time we had seen a helicopter, it had not been to take us off the island � it had been to deliver Miles and Jordan. So I was cautious about rushing up to this one. But some of the others eagerly trotted up to meet it, in expectation of rescue. THE BEACH � IAN If I were ever to get Stan and myself off of this island, this was our chance. I scrambled up the sandy slope to the plateau above the beach, as the chopper's blades spun to a halt and the pilot climbed out. I stared in disbelief. Jude? What the hell was Jude doing here? Jude was my friend back in Cleveland, Jason's friend, the one who had helped me adjust after my breakup with Seth. The one who had encouraged me to repair Seth's relationship with Abe after their disastrous second date. The one who had gotten me that fabulous discount to Martinique � that resulted in my coming to the island and becoming one of Hamish's lieutenants. Jude � that Jude � was here? Whether this was a good thing or a bad thing was not obvious. But it was definitely a thing, a thing that made me wonder � and worry. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER THIRTY � NEW PARAMETERS]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-14	Date: Fri, 1 Mar 2024 19:57:28 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 14 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER 14: DEPARTS AND LETTERS Previously, at the Phallic Tower: * Jasper, a sex addict trying to reform, is tempted by Leo, especially after they find the amber dodecagon, which prompts Leo to strip and beg Jasper to fuck him, stimulating Jasper and horrifying Leo's father Ed; Leo had earlier borrowed clothing from Ed, Lucas, and Tim. * Harry, on an expedition with Seth and Paul, witnesses Paul being swallowed up into the earth by the blue dodecagon. Elsewhere on the surface: * Abe, searching for other survivors, sees Percy rape the Bahamian Theo Sebold; he resolves to avoid Percy, and consoles himself over Seth's certain death by writing a remembrance in shells on the beach, as well as a plea for help that he hopes a passing plane will spot. In Aruba: * Jordan and Miles have uncovered the address of Stimulever, Inc., the parent company of Zen Tropical Airways, whom they intend to sue. Jordan, a biological male who had intended to have a sex-change operation before marrying Augie, has � thinking Augie dead � chosen to remain male. Augie, na�ve and religiously conservative, is unaware of Jordan's birth gender. Underground: * Stan, having been captured by Hamish, learns a little about his new surroundings from one of its denizens � Ian O'Leahy, a former romantic interest of Seth who had disappeared a year ago. * * * * * * * * SATURDAY, DECEMBER 2 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH Abe, whose taste in movies was different from mine, had once coaxed me into watching an old film on TCM called "Five Came Back", which was kind of fun, if you could tolerate how corny it was. It was about a plane carrying twelve people (how's that for coincidence?) that crashes in a remote location (sound familiar?). The plane is `repaired', but can only carry five of them. Various events kill off some less admirable characters, but the remainder face difficult ethical choices: who will escape and who will be left behind? Bad news for the leftovers: the natives are cannibals. I thought about that title as Harry and I returned to the tower. Three of us had departed on that expedition, and only two came back. Our island lacked any obvious cannibals. But what it did have was equally scary � because I didn't know what it was. What would we say to the others? The complete truth � assuming Harry was not delusional � was ridiculous. And yet there was no avoiding that one of our party was missing. When we got back, Jasper rushed up to me. - (Jasper) These . . . things. These dodecagons. They're poison. Oh, shit, what else happened? He'd gone off with Leo and Ed, neither of whom looked the worse for wear. I took inventory: Augie, Vic, Tim, Lucas, Dai, and (I was guessing here) Cody. All present and accounted for. Okay, no one's missing; what's the crisis? - (Jasper) Leo went crazy. When he saw the dodecagon, he stripped naked, ran down to it and screamed for me to have sex with him. He even reached into my pants and . . . pulled me out. Fortunately, Ed didn't see that part, but it was embarrassing to say the least. - Ed's not exactly delighted that Leo is gay. - He called him a bloody poofter in front of me. He must think I'm straight. So Jasper IS gay. I had noticed him seeming to look longingly at some of the others, but I could have been reading into a situation what I wanted to read into it. Jasper was sexy, and subconsciously I think I wanted him to be gay. I was ashamed of myself for thinking that, so soon after Abe's presumed death, but if I were to rebound from Abe like I had rebounded from so many others before him, Jasper would not be such a bad � Stop it, Seth. This place is getting to you. And remember that you're naked and others won't need to read your mind in order to discern your thoughts � they can read another part of your body. Shortly afterwards, Harry came up to me. - (Harry) Ours wasn't the only dodecagon incident. You won't believe this, but Augie stripped off at one of them. - AUGIE??? - Yeah, Augie. - Leo I could see, but . . . Augie? - Wait � Leo too? - Leo, too. - And Cody yesterday and Paul � it's an epidemic, Seth. - So it would seem. - You have to address it. - I suppose so. . . .God, Harry, am I really ready for this leadership thing? - `Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them'. - Winston Churchill. - Shakespeare. Twelfth Night. - I always thought it was Churchill. Anyway, I'm not great. I don't feel great, Harry. - Then substitute the word `leader'. You've had leadership thrust upon you � but I think you're a born leader anyway. You'll be fine, Seth. They're looking to you to lead them. - I don't have all the answers. - They're not expecting you to. They just need reassurance. Reassurance. How could I give them reassurance, when I was so lacking in it myself? Harry agreed to corral everybody, and I spoke. - Look, I know we're all confused and upset, and I am, too. I have some � - (Dai) Wait, we're not all here. Where's Paul? - (Lucas, to me) Wasn't he with you? Shit. Not the way I wanted this to start. - I'll get to that, but I want to tell you the one good thing from our expedition. We found � - (Lucas) He didn't come back with you? What are you hiding, Herrick? - (Leo) Maybe Harry ate him. - (Ed) Shut up, Leo. I paused. Ten pairs of eyes were watching me intensively. Until Harry stepped in to help. - (Harry) Paul disappeared. We don't know what happened. - (Dai) Paul disappeared? - (Lucas) What do you mean, disappeared? Didn't you guys stay together? Shit, you're presenting yourself as some kind of leader? Maybe someone else should be in charge. - (Jasper) Are you nominating yourself, Lucas? - (Lucas) You could do worse. - (Jasper) Let them explain. - (Dai) Omigod, Paul! - I take responsibility for Paul's disappearance. We had just found water � the good news I wanted to share � and then we spotted another bit of wreckage. Harry and I went to check it out, but Paul stayed behind to wash in the stream. And when we got back he was gone. - (Harry) We think he was searching for the blue dodecagon. The one that had made him strip yesterday. He was hoping if he found it he could rid himself of the jockstrap he couldn't remove. - We searched all over and found no trace of him. We waited as long as we could but he didn't reappear. Hopefully he'll come back tonight. Well, nothing I or Harry had said was untruthful. We just left out the part where Harry saw Paul at the blue dodecagon, being swallowed up and buried alive. - The thing is, we've all got to avoid these dodecagons. Maybe Paul found it, maybe something weird happened, I don't know. But they seem to affect at least some of us. - (Harry) We think there may be twelve of them, scattered around the island. - Right, twelve. Everything is in twelves. Yesterday, we saw five � yellow, blue, vermillion, orange, and violet. Jasper, what color was the one you found? - (Jasper) Amber. Like the stripe on the tower � the one between orange and yellow. - (Tim) These stripes � they're the colors of a standard color wheel: red, vermillion, orange, amber, yellow, chartreuse, green, teal, blue, violet, purple, magenta. - (Vic) We saw the green one. It . . . had an effect. - Then we've found seven so far. There are probably five others out there somewhere. We have to avoid them at all costs. If you see one in the distance, stay away. Try to steer others away from them. We don't know why they affect some of us and not others. - (Ed) It's not even that. Leo and I saw the vermillion one yesterday and it had no effect, but the amber one today brought out the worst in my son. - (Leo) Fuck you, Dad. - (Ed) Well, it did. You behaved disgracefully. If you had any strength of character � - (Leo) If YOU had any strength of character, you would accept the fact that I'm gay and leave me the fuck alone. - (Lucas) Yes, you're the height of responsibility, aren't you? Wearing everybody else's clothes. Well, if you wanted to strip off, why don't you strip off now and give everybody their clothes back? - ENOUGH! We're not getting anywhere by squabbling! Leo, you should give Lucas back his shoes. - (Ed) And I'll take my shirt back, thank you. - (Leo) Well, I can't take off these pants. I'm not wearing underwear. - (Tim) I'll trade you. I'll give you my underwear if I can have my pants back. - (Harry) Tomorrow we'll take you to the stream we found and you can wash your clothes. And yourselves. - (Leo) Can I keep these clothes until then? - Yeah, I guess. Tim, Ed, Lucas? - (grudging agreement) - Speaking of the stream, we found three water bottles at the wreckage site, and brought them back for you. Everyone can have a third of a bottle. And we can go back and get more. That seemed to calm things down a bit. Paul, of course, didn't return. THE THRONE ROOM � PERCY - It's the end of the second day and you still haven't procured Derisian. Your sensors won't last much past tomorrow. - I'll get him tomorrow, Hame. He was in range when I found Sebold. I'm pretty sure he's still on the west side of the island, probably at the beach. I'll start there tomorrow morning. - You have until Tuesday to fetch him, Percy. Otherwise, I'm sealing The Twelve inside the Tower and sending up everybody to search. As it is, I've had to hold up the meeting with the left-siders. I wanted all of them here. I can't wait any longer. I'll have to do it with one missing. - Hamish, are you going to tell me why Derisian's so important? - He's Herrick's lover. - And why is Herrick important? - You'll find out in due time. Stimulever wants me to keep it under wraps for now. But � if you capture Derisian, you can have him as your boy. - My pussycat. - Pussycat? - Well, you have a dog. Why shouldn't I have a cat? - Then you shall have your pussycat. And your pussycat's pussy. STAN'S CELL � STAN The shock wasn't so much that someone appeared at our door. It was WHO appeared at our door: Percy. The damn flight attendant. He was the first person I had seen down here who was not nude. He wore a long silk caftan, somewhere between gray and lavender on the color spectrum. - It's time. Time for what? Ian seemed to know. His expression conveyed both caution and anxiety; he nodded toward the exit. It was time to meet the boss. Percy led us down the corridor, stopping at various other doors and collecting other men, always in pairs, and all in the nude. Half of each pair was someone from the plane. Ah, there was Al. But I didn't spot Abe, my other sleeping companion from the beach. We went into the same white room in which I had arrived, but the foam-rubber on which I'd landed had been replaced by a hardwood floor. In the center were a dozen chairs, in two rows. Ian beckoned me to sit in one of them, and retreated to a side wall with the other escorts. There was one empty chair � Abe's? I was on the end of the second row, next to a mahogany-colored man whom I remembered was named Theo. His lighter-skinned friend Piers was in the front, next to Al. I looked over our escorts. All were nude, and most looked unfriendly, Ian included. He had his role to play, he said � was he playing a role now? Or had he been playing a role when he seemed congenial, just another victim of this Hamish person. Barry the pilot, who had greeted me upon arrival, was not among them initially. When he entered the room, I gasped. He was crawling on all fours; protruding from his buttocks was a puppy dog tail, apparently inserted in his butthole. Around his neck was a collar, attached to a leash that was over fifteen feet long, allowing Barry to enter the room before we could see who was holding the other end. The man holding the other end was of average height, stocky but powerfully built, with a dark stubble covering his chin and a thick set of black chest hair. Aside from Percy, he was the only person in the room wearing clothes, which consisted of a leather vest, open in the middle to exposed his developed chest, an oversized leather codpiece, and chaps that left his ass exposed. On his feet were a pair of black cowboy boots. He held Barry's leash with his left hand; his right hand held a bullwhip. Barry crawled to a spot in front of the eleven of us, faced the leash-holder, and raised up on his knees, bunching his elbows at his side but extending his hands in front of him, pointing down, like a dog begging for food. - Down boy. Barry dropped to all fours. - Good doggie. Hamish � for that's who he had to be � came over and caressed Barry's head with his hand. Barry stuck out his tongue and tried to lick Hamish's hand. - No, boy, that's enough. Lay down. Barry lowered himself to a prone position. Hamish released his grip on the leash and let it drop to the floor. Barry didn't move. Hamish stood on Barry's bare back and addressed us. - I have long awaited the arrival of Flight 12. But not because of you � because of the right side of the plane. We call them The Twelve. They are important. You left-siders are not. - My name is Hamish. The men you see along the wall are my lieutenants, collected over the course of the last three years. My lieutenants are horny. They need sex. That's why you're here. If you're not gay � you'll have an adjustment to make. If you are gay, I hope you're bottoms. - Each flight that brought me a lieutenant also brought me eleven bottoms. Why aren't there dozens of bottoms living here now? Because we gradually release them over the next three months, before the next flight arrives. - You? You probably won't get kept very long. As more guests arrive � which we anticipate � we'll have to release the overage. So your captivity won't last long, no more than a month. I think that's good news, don't you? - Each of you has been housed with one of my lieutenants. You will do everything he tells you to do. You will suck his cock when he tells you to suck his cock, and you will spread your ass when he tells you to spread your ass. And more. Do not expect that your roommate will be the only one using your body. Courtesy of this space, our lieutenants all have incredibly strong libidos and are capable of multiple orgasms a day. - Barry, you've been a good doggie today. Say hello to our new arrivals. - (Barry) Woof! - You see, he's been well-trained. I think he deserves a reward, don't you? Barry, which of these boys would you like to fuck? My sphincter involuntarily tightened. Was this really going to happen? Barry looked at Hamish expectantly, as if to ask a question. - You may stand, boy. And let's take that adorable puppy-dog tail out of you. One of the `lieutenants' trotted over, grabbed the puppy-dog tail and yanked it out in one thrust, making Barry yelp. The puppy-dog tail was like the tip of the iceberg; there was several times more inside Barry's ass than was visible protruding from it. It was a good eight inches long and thick. Barry then had his collar removed. I found it incomprehensible that twenty-four hours ago, I had been greeted by this man. Now he had been reduced to a dog on a leash with a dildo stuck far up his ass. Was such humiliation in store for me? Barry stood and looked over the eleven of us. Finally he made his choice � Theo. - Excellent choice, Barry. You like them dark, don't you, boy? This one is straight, but my husband fucked him earlier today, so he's been opened up a bit. Well, go to it, boy. A different Barry stood before us, grinning exuberantly, his manhood at full mast. And he proceeded to plow the shit out of Theo in front of us, the first time in my life I had ever witnessed gay sex. Theo, opened up or not, did not seem to enjoy it one bit. To my utter astonishment, I kinda did. * * * * * * * * MONDAY, DECEMBER 3 * * * * * * * * ORANJESTAD, ARUBA � JORDAN Thanks to Nick, we had enough information to contact Stimulever. Miles had warned us that lawsuits could take a while, and we should allow the law firm weeks or even months to put it together. This was unacceptable. I didn't care about the money � I wanted accountability, and above all I wanted answers. What had really happened to the plane? Why hadn't ZTA contacted us? And most perplexing of all � why had there been no press coverage? There were two dozen men on that plane; there must be two dozen families in search of answers. But I had no idea who they were, or how to contact them. We needed a list of passengers � and the only way to get that was from the airline. The airline that was hiding from us. At least ZTA had to know we were onto them. Miles and I drafted a letter to the Board of Directors of Stimulever, informing them of our request for a list of passengers on ZTA Flight 12 from Santo Domingo, and that if we did not receive it within 24 hours, we were going to go to the press and raise hell big-time. This outfit definitely did not want publicity, and the threat of a front-page article in The Wall Street Journal would put the fear of God into them, wouldn't it? Feeling virtuous after sending an email to the address that Nick had been able to capture, I felt like celebrating. And I felt like actualizing a decision I had made. - I'm going to get my hair done, Jen. - Really? I kind of like it as it is. It's just getting to the length where you look totally female, without the wig. So don't let them cut it too short. - I hear you. See you. Sorry, Jen, but I intended to cut it short. Way short. I was headed not for a hair salon but for a barber shop. Afterwards, I bought a ton of men's clothing at the Royal Plaza Mall. Jordan Murdock, heterosexual female, was reverting to Jordan Murdock, gay male. A strange thing occurred at the mall. I ran into the pink-haired woman who'd been with us at the airport when they told us that Flight 12 had vanished from the radar screen. I said hello and she walked right past. I called after her: - Hey, remember me? You were at the airport. Flight 12? We're going to sue ZTA, want to join us? She turned around, looked at me as if I was from the planet Mars, and continued on her way. THE DARK ROOM � PAUL It was pitch black. I was in pain. I was confused. That about summed it up. Where the hell was I? I was sitting. I felt groggy, like I was coming out of anesthesia. Pain reverberated throughout my body, but it was centered in my rectum, like something large had been stuck up there. My memory was starting to return. I had gone to the dodecagon. I had sneaked away from Seth and Harry because I knew they would disapprove. I remembered how beautiful it was, with that bright blue six-foot phallus. And how much I wanted to hug it and lick it, and . . . then something slithered up my leg and into my ass and fucked me. It wasn't a person, it was a thing, some kind of THING, which sounds really creepy, but it was wonderful, and I wanted it to last forever. And then it � whatever `it' was � wasn't there anymore. And my feet were frozen and my knees felt weak and I was falling . . . Then what? I was here. It felt like something was in my ass, but it wasn't whatever had been fucking me, because that felt wonderful and this was uncomfortable. I could not move. It was as if my arms and legs were glued to the arms and legs of the chair. I couldn't even lift my butt. Omigod, I was paralyzed. I must have broken my spine when I fell. But why was there no light? Am I blind? Why was there - - Hello, Paul. I gasped. The voice came out of nowhere. Had he � whoever he was � been here all along? However long that was. - Where am I? Why is it so dark? Am I paralyzed? - No, you're not paralyzed. You're just being restrained. - I don't feel any restraints. - But you feel other things, don't you. You feel the dildo up your ass? - . . . Dildo? - What did you think was causing all that discomfort, a hemorrhoid? - Where am I? I remember . . . falling. From that beautiful blue dodecagon. - The blue portal, yes. Yes, you fell, Paul. You fell right down to us. - Us? - We're not quite ready for you. It's not that you arrived early, you came right on time. But other things aren't ready. We don't have all the pieces in place. - You're talking gibberish. - Seth's boyfriend isn't here yet. - Seth? You know Seth? - We know Seth. We know all your friends from the plane. We can't bring you out yet, because we have to start the procedures for the left-siders. - . . . Procedures. - You see, we can't have too many bottoms. We have to hold you in abeyance. I must be hallucinating. I was in a hospital somewhere. Maybe I had been ever since the plane crash. I had dreamed up the island, the blue dodecagon, and this person in front of me, talking nonsense. - Could you turn on the light? I can't see a thing. Are there others here or just you? - No, sorry, Paul, I can't do that. We're going to have to keep you in the dark a little bit longer. - . . . Do I know you? Your voice sounds familiar. - You know me. You know my cock. I think it was the very first one up your sweet white ass. Back in high school. - . . . ANTHONY??? THE PHALLIC TOWER � HARRY It was Monday morning, December 3rd. Forty-eight hours since we had awakened on this island. I rose early, noticed Gary (Cody? Ray?) stretched out on the yellow wedge, Augie on the green, and Leo on the amber. The very colors of the dodecagons that had made each of them go nuts. How weird was that? Seth organized a group trip to the stream, so that we could both bathe and wash the clothes we had been wearing continuously for the past three days. This generated anxiety. I didn't like being nude in front of others any more than Augie did, but for a different reason. Augie because he thought it indecent, me due to shame. Of course I had done it before � even fat guys have to take PE. I found a place upstream, away from the main group, where there was an accumulation of water. Jasper followed me, but the rest stayed at the main pool below. We undressed and slipped into the same pool; I was extremely self-conscious even though Jasper wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to me and the rest were at least fifty feet away. Stupid, cowardly Harry. Just be a regular guy and don't be weird about nudity around other guys. But then, this wasn't any group of guys � most were gay. And hot. Seth had spoken to me earlier about wanting to leave the group and journey on independently from here. He said it was to search for Paul, but I knew it was really to search for Abe. He wanted to find the west coast; we'd explored much of the northeastern section of the island � if Abe (or Paul) was alive, he might be toward the west. The stream we found was flowing southwest; if he followed it, it should lead to the ocean. I was apprehensive; he was smart enough to avoid the dodecagons if he saw one, but was he strong enough to overcome their power? I was terrified he wouldn't come back, and then who would lead us � Lucas? Minus Seth, we headed back as a group. With my bulk, I'm not the world's fastest walker, especially with uneven terrain. Several of the more energetic � Ed, Leo, Vic, Jasper and Cody � asked if they could go on ahead. Vic was confident he knew the path, and there were no dodecagons en route; what could happen? THE WOODS � JASPER - (Leo) Hold on a sec, I've got to make a call of nature. - (Ed) Sure, hold up, guys. . . . Leo, where are you going? - There are trees all around, Leo. Just go behind one. - (Leo) I don't have to pee, it's number two. The rest of us exchanged exasperated looks as Leo wandered off into one of the denser parts of the forest. He had irritated everyone on the way back, complaining about the trip to the stream, whining that he couldn't have a bottle of water all for himself - after all, it was his birthday - bragging about retaking Lucas' shoes at the stream without Lucas noticing. He had somehow managed to persuade Ed and Tim to let him keep their clothes until we got back to the tower. Leo undressing in front of me would have set my libido into overdrive. It was why I had followed Harry upstream to bathe. I knew I could control myself around Harry's flab, but didn't want to be near a naked Leo. So when he ventured off the trail to take his pants down, I didn't follow. Nor did anyone else. Which was a mistake, because Leo didn't return. Vic commented first. - (Vic) He should be back by now. - (Ray) He should have been back minutes ago. Maybe he's out there jerking off, the little pervert. What was the deal with Ray? He seemed to spend half of the time trying to seduce Augie, but other times he seemed downright homophobic � like now. Something was off. I'd seen Harry talking to him a bunch. I'd have to find some time to talk to Harry, figure out the score with this guy. But right now the object of concern was Leo. A thought occurred to me: - You don't suppose he went to try to find that dodecagon, do you? The amber one? - (Ed) Why would he do that? It drove him crazy. - The blue one drove Paul crazy. And Harry and Seth said he was searching for it. - (Vic) I think they affect some guys and not others. But once they do, you want to go back there. - Do you think we should go back to that dodecagon to look for him? - (Ray) They said not to. They said to stay away from them things, they drive you loco. I know I seen one of them things but first it was yellow and then it was green and it was all different somehow. But that's probably `cause . . . - Probably `cause what? - . . . Nuthin'. I think he was going to say something revealing, something that would help me solve the mystery of this guy. But Vic interrupted my thoughts. - Look, Leo's dodecagon didn't affect you guys yesterday. I think you'd be safe if you went back. - (Ed) Maybe. . . . - (Vic) We'll go with you. - (Ray) If you don't mind, I won't. Those things spook me. Where's the amber thing from here? - It's past the tower. - (Ray) Then drop me off at the tower and you guys go on. - (Vic) I'll stay with you. I don't think it's a good idea for anybody to be alone. Especially you, his tone of voice said. When we got to the tower, Ray went inside and Vic joined him, to keep an eye on him, he said. With more than a little trepidation, I went with Ed to the spot where Leo had torn off his clothes and begged me to fuck him. And when we got there: - (Ed) It's gone. - How can it be gone? This is the spot, I know it is, the image of this place is burned into my brain. Look, here's even a papaya I dropped. . - You're right. This is the place. It was down below. Only it's not there now. We traversed downhill to check that the dodecagon hadn't just been covered over by leaves or dirt, but there were bushes and plants covering the forest floor, at heights that would have been impossible had there been a granite slab underneath. It wasn't merely that the slab had vanished, it was as if it had never existed. - (Ed) Jasper, did we imagine this? Was this all a hallucination? Or are we hallucinating now? - A joint hallucination? I don't think so. - Maybe this is all my hallucination, and I'm hallucinating you? - You think you ate an LSD-infused papaya? - No, you're right. There was a dodecagon here yesterday, an amber one that Leo danced on naked. But it's disappeared. And so had Leo. It was only then that it hit me. - Ed. - Yeah? - This is Leo's birthday. - So? - Yesterday, it was Paul's birthday and Paul disappeared. - What are you trying to say, Jasper? - Don't you think it's curious that two men have now vanished on their exact birthdays? And, Ed � we all have birthdays this month. - We better stay away from these ruddy dodecagons. WEST SIDE OF THE ISLAND � PERCY Hamish was pissed. He'd wanted all the left-siders underground before beginning their initiation, and I hadn't managed to deliver them in time � Eton had even arrived before the complement of left-siders was complete. Another of The Twelve was due to arrive today, and Hamish would be furious if he preceded Derisian as well. I had to find Derisian, and find him fast. When I arrived at the beach, I was rewarded � not by the sight of Derisian, but by the sight of a large set of pebbles and shells spelling out the word `HELP'. Oh, yes, Derisian had been here. It was just a matter of time now. I will find him. THE WOODS � SETH I followed the stream as it flowed downhill, passing the spot where Harry had said the blue dodecagon had sucked Paul into the earth. But now there was nothing there except nature. The stream continued to wind its way down, continuing southwest for about three miles until it ran into a wider brook that ran through a meadowland. I began to have my doubts that the brook would lead to the ocean, but it did, about a mile later. I began tracking north along the shore in search of . . . anything. Had this been a real vacation, I could have savored just strolling along the beach. I would have seen sandpipers, plovers, or gulls darting in and out of the waves in search of food, but there were none; it occurred to me that I had not seen or heard a single bird on this island. There were, however, lots of interesting looking shells. I saw a spot where there was an unusual concentration of shells, or maybe stones, and headed toward it. Somehow, it looked unnatural, and anything unnatural was something I needed to check out. I approached it and saw that it was a group of stones, clearly arranged in some kind of pattern. A human hand had guided this. I grew excited but cautious. It could be a sign that someone from the left half of the plane had survived � or it could have been created long ago. When I finally reached it, my heart went into my mouth. GIN AND TIPSY Gin and tipsy. Either the island was playing an enormously cruel joke on me � or Abe was alive. I will find him. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER FIFTEEN � PICKING UP THE THREATS]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-12b	Date: Sun, 25 Feb 2024 14:02:25 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 12b (Authoritarian) FLIGHT 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel Author's Note: This entry does not advance the plot. But with so many characters and plot threads, I thought it might be useful to produce a sort of Status Report to review where each of them stands. After Chapter 12 seemed like a logical place, to fit with one of the story's motifs. If you have a good handle on who's who and what's what, you can skip this and wait for Chapter 13, which will continue the story. I can't submit two segments at once, so I will submit Chapter 13 the day after this is posted. By the way, although the climactic events are due to occur on December 31 and the characters are only experiencing December 2, we're about a quarter of the way through the story. � T.C. GENERAL SUMMARY On November 30, a plane from Miami to Aruba encounters mechanical problems. Twenty-four male passengers are put on ZTA Flight 12, which encounters turbulence so violent that it breaks apart in midair, sending them plummeting toward their deaths in the waters below. To their astonishment, however, those seated on the right half of the plane find themselves on a strange island, alive and intact. They congregate at a multi-colored, penis-shaped tower; the tower floor is patterned as a dodecagon (twelve-sided figure) with wedges in corresponding colors. While hunting for food, water, and rescue, the men encounter similar (but single-colored) dodecagons in the forest. These dodecagons seem to provoke intense, even bizarre, sexual reactions in some survivors (but not in others); sometimes a brief image of an animal (e.g. a goat or rabbit) is seen. The men find wreckage from several other ZTA planes and a map containing the sites of the twelve Federal Reserve banks � which correspond to the men's respective home cities. They are unaware of the danger that lies (literally) beneath. Below are brief character sketches and the events that have affected them, organized by location. AT THE PHALLIC TOWER * SETH HERRICK, our protagonist, is searching for his boyfriend Abe Derisian, who was seated on the left side of the plane and may be dead (although we know he isn't). Twice he has awakened unexpectedly naked. Seth has assumed a leadership role in the group; a mysterious note tells him that only he can get the group off the island � but to do so he must remain in the nude. * Seth has come to rely on the input of HARRY MANCINI, a fat gay man embarrassed by his physical appearance. Harry notes that the island seems to be `all about sex', heightening sexual tensions that had been kept under the surface. Harry has picked up on the multiple occurrences of the number 12: there are 12 survivors in their group, they all have birthdays in December (the 12th month), the tower is painted in 12 colors, the dodecagons have 12 sides, and they were all on ZTA Flight 12. * AUGIE STAPLETON is a conservative Christian horrified by the act of homosexuality � although he once engaged in fellatio in high school, an incident which shocked him. He has just been influenced by a dodecagon, which causes him to strip and ask for Ray (next paragraph) to fuck him; he doesn't remember doing that. Augie's `girlfriend' Jordan was put on a separate flight which safely arrived in Aruba. More on `her' later. * When first met, a survivor identifying himself as cattle rancher CODY BENSON seemed unaware that he had even been on a plane; Harry and Seth discern that he suffers from dissociative identity disorder; his other two personalities are RAY and GARY ONSLOW. While Cody seems asexual, Ray is gay and randy and attempted to seduce Augie. Gary is shy and comes out rarely. A yellow dodecagon triggered Cody's change of personality into Ray. * After going to sleep fully clothed the first night in the tower, PAUL ETON wakes up wearing nothing but a jockstrap � which he cannot remove. The previous day, a blue dodecagon caused him to strip and attempt to kiss DAISUKE OMI. Hopeful that the blue dodecagon will free him of the jockstrap, he seeks it out. He sees a six-foot blue phallus in one corner, to which he is irresistibly attracted, and embraces it. Immediately, he is immobilized, experiences a sensation like being fucked, and falls into the earth as the dodecagon collapses beneath him. * ED NIEMANN is a British knight, transplanted to America, traveling with his disagreeable son, LEO; Leo arrived at the tower late and sopping wet after a rainstorm; he borrowed clothes from others while his dried overnight; but in the morning they have disappeared. * Other tower residents include LUCAS HEIDEKKER, TIM FALLON, JASPER ADENA and VIC TORRANCE, whose stories haven't emerged much yet. Vic has a lover named Miles who is in Aruba. ELSEWHERE ON THE ISLAND SURFACE * The twelve passengers from the left side of the plane have also miraculously survived. They assume that the passengers from the right side have perished in the plane crash. Among them is Seth's lover ABE DERISIAN. * STAN KOWALCZYK, a straight man considering leaving his wife, had been on the right side of the plane until the flight attendant, Percy, insists that he change places with the man across the aisle: Cody/Ray/Gary in his Ray persona. Stan and Ray comply, reluctantly, confused as to why Percy considered the switch important. * After landing just offshore, the left-siders sleep overnight on the beach, with Stan forming a triangular pillow group with Abe and a young man named AL CASEY. Stan awakens alone and nude, later encountering an equally nude (and perplexed) Al. The two find a six-foot black phallus and subsequently find themselves trapped by dildos that spring out of the ground. They are speared anally by one of the dildos and sucked down into the earth below. * PERCY, husband to Hamish (next section), is helping him `collect' the twelve left-siders. Nine of them, including Stan and Al, were stripped naked and thus vulnerable to one of the `penis gardens' designed to capture them and bring them underground. Percy requests permission to leave three left-siders clothed and track them down, hoping to seduce them before sending them on to Hamish. He succeeds with the Bahamian PIERS THOMPSON, and is still searching for Piers's friend THEO SEBOLD � and Abe. UNDERGROUND * BARRY RUSSELL, the plane's pilot, finds himself in some sort of underground structure under the control of a dominant man named Hamish DiSalvo. Although Barry is an experienced bdsm dom, Hamish informs Barry that he will be his `boy', orders him to strip, and has him fucked by seven men Hamish calls his `lieutenants'. * HAMISH has several other lieutenants and holds all the left-siders captive save Abe and Theo. Hamish has collected a lieutenant from each of several previous ZTA flights (cf. the multiple wreckages referenced above); other young male passengers from these flights are kept captive for a while, then seem not to be around anymore. * STAN, after being captured by a penis garden, finds himself in Hamish's domain and assigned a cellmate named IAN O'LEAHY, whom we have met before in a flashback (see below). IN ARUBA * Augie's `girlfriend' JORDAN MURDOCK and sister JEN learn that Flight 12 has vanished. Jordan is a biological male, a fact he has kept from the na�ve and clueless Augie. Knowing that the religiously conservative Augie wouldn't go much past first base until their wedding night, Jordan planned to have `the operation' without ever telling Augie of his birth gender. Now that Augie is `dead', he guiltily realizes he is relieved that he won't have to go through with the sex-change; he wants to remain male. * Jordan and Jen resolve to sue ZTA after learning of Flight 12's disappearance. They are assisted by MILES KING, whose partner Vic is on the island. They research ZTA, finding no website, but Miles uncovers a link to a Swiss company called Stimulever, Inc. A hacker friend, Nick, finds Stimulever's address seconds before the page is pulled from the internet. IN FLASHBACKS: * In Cleveland, a year ago, Seth and Abe meet, have a sexy first date and a disastrous second one. Seth, having been encouraged by his friend Ian to be `aggressive', goes too far and handcuffs Abe to the bed over Abe's objections. Ian, regretting that Seth misinterpreted his advice, attempts to fix them up for a reconciliation, which works: Abe proposes a third date with no sex. At a restaurant, Ian `happens' to find them and tells Abe that he was part of Seth's complicated history. Intrigued, Abe invites Seth back to his apartment for an impromptu `fourth date' � and a history lesson. * In a separate flashback, Ian relates how he mysteriously arrives at the island and is pitted in a sexual competition against a fellow plane passenger (with the same name as another of Seth's past boyfriends). Defeating (raping) him, Ian is rewarded with a post as one of Hamish's lieutenants and is informed that `you get to keep your balls'. * In the Philadelphia area, a teenage Harry is humiliated on Grindr after he posts his picture and others notice how overweight he is. Later, in college, he is `invited' to join a supposed gay fraternity, led by an Israeli student named URI, only to have them call him a fat pig and pour barbecue sauce over him while chanting derisive slogans. Harry resolves to remain closeted the rest of his life. * In Texas, a teenage Augie is invited on a hunting trip by his classmate ALFONSO. Alfonso suddenly drops his trousers and invites Augie to give him a blow job which Augie, overcome by lust, does. Both belong to a very conservative church, which kicks Alfonso out, but Alfonso protects Augie's identity and his involvement in the incident is not discovered. Augie resolves to start dating girls. * In Richmond, a teenage Paul is harassed by a classmate, ANTHONY, who offers him a ride home � only it turns out to be Anthony's home. Slipping him a Mickey Finn, Anthony strips Paul to a jockstrap and fucks him. * In Portland, Stan argues with his wife Magda, who proposes separate vacations before joining each other for a week in Cartagena. Magda is thinking of moving out; Stan is unsure whether the marriage is worth continuing. IN SWITZERLAND: In a prologue set a month into the future � on New Year's Eve � JES�S, chairman of a corporation (Stimulever?) discusses with board members the impending launch of `The Project', whose success is not guaranteed. It depends upon a singular act of will by a figure they call `The Trigger Man' � who seems to be Seth. The board warns him that if The Project fails, they may seek new leadership.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-3	Date: Wed, 31 Jan 2024 12:57:01 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 3 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER THREE � LET'S GO TO THE LIGHTHOUSE Previously: * After his plane breaks apart over the Caribbean, Seth Herrick wakes up on an island, uninjured � and nude. He wonders if he is dead and in some kind of afterlife. He is desperate to find his boyfriend, Abe, who was sitting across the aisle when the plane's disintegration separated them. * Seth encounters other survivors from his side of the plane: o Harry Mancini, an amiable, heavyset gay man; o Ed Niemann, a British knight transplanted to the U.S., looking for his missing son; o Augie Stapleton, a twenty-year-old who believes that homosexuals go to hell. * Ed and Augie lend Seth enough clothing to preserve modesty. * The four men spot the dome-like top of a distant structure. They pursue it in hopes of finding someone who can help them get rescued. * Stan Kowalczyk, originally seated on the plane's right side, is asked by the flight attendant to switch seats with the man across the aisle. It seems a pointless request, but, after Percy, the flight attendant, insists, they shrug and comply. * * * * * * * * SATURDAY, DECEMBER 1 * * * * * * * * THE BEACH (EAST COAST) � SETH It was difficult to tell where the mysterious building was � all we could see was the dome. It was decorated in stripes of different colors, descending from the top vertically � gradations of color from red to yellow. It gave the impression of being relatively tall and thin. A lighthouse? Around the next bend, we found two surprising things. One was a map. The other was a person. He called to us from some distance away. - C'mere, look at this. - (calling back) Hello! Who are you? - Cody Benson. Ain't seen this before. Dunno how it got here. He seemed transfixed by something mounted on a metal pole - whatever it was, it was more proof of civilization on this island. But � wasn't he on the plane? - Have you seen anyone else? - This morning? No, why would I? - From the plane. - What plane? No plane flew over my property. The four of us looked at each other. Augie made a motion and pulled the rest of us aside, while Benson regarded us with suspicion. - (Augie) I recognize him. He was on the plane. He had a big row with the flight attendant, who made him switch to the right side. - (Harry) I remember that. What was that all about? - (Augie) I couldn't figure it out. The flight attendant seemed to think it important. Anyway, I swear this guy was on the plane. But � wait a sec � the flight attendant called him something else, it wasn't Benson. What was it? On-something. . . . Onslow, he called him Mr. Onslow. - (Ed) Concussion. He's delusional. - Let's check out what he wants us to see. . . . (calling out) What you got there, Mister Benson? - (Cody) Lookie here at this map. What's it doing here? Who put it up and what's it for? Flat and rectangular, It looked like the kind of plaque you found in government parks, mounted on a pole, in a bronze-like metal with raised lines and letters. As Benson (Onslow?) had said, it was a map � specifically a map of the United States, divided into a dozen sections. In each section a city was marked with a star, including my home town of Cleveland. - (Harry) I think I know what this is. But it makes no sense. - (Cody) You're damn right it makes no sense. Nobody has the right to put a map on my ranch. - Your ranch? - (Cody) Yeah, I think so. Though maybe I wandered off my property. I wasn't aware it extended all the way to the Gulf. - The Gulf? Which gulf is that, Mister Benson? The man looked at me as if I had asked what color a bluebird was. - (Cody) The Gulf of Mexico. What did you think it was - the Persian Gulf? - Your ranch � would that be in Texas? - (Cody) Shit, you don't even know you're in Texas? - (Harry) Mr. Benson, we're sorry, but you're very much mistaken. We're quite a ways from Texas. We're in the middle of the Caribbean Sea. - (Cody) Sure we are. What's a map of the U.S. of A. doing in the middle of the Caribbean Sea? - We don't know. Harry, you said you knew what it was. - (Harry) Yeah, but, like he said, it shouldn't be here. Unless I'm wrong, it's a map of the Federal Reserve Districts. And the cities are the locations of the Federal Reserve Banks. - Yes, there's one in Cleveland. - (Harry) And one in Philly. - (Ed) Boston as well. That's where I'm living now. - (Augie) My home town's on it, too, or close enough. Dallas. FLASHBACK: AUGIE (WHITE SETTLEMENT, TEXAS) � five years ago - Augie, wait up. I want to talk to you. - I don't want to be late for geometry. - I'll walk fast. You doing anything this weekend? Going to the church social? - Nah. They're pretty boring. - If you were going, who would you ask? Emma? - I don't know, man. - Afraid to ask her? - I . . . I'm not really into dating. - I see. . . . You into hunting? - Sure, I like to hunt. - Want to go hunting with me on Saturday? My uncle's got a ranch out in the country. - . . . Uh, sure, okay. Why not. - I'll pick you up like around 10? - You drive? Wow. I can't wait to get my license. And � oh heck, that was the bell. Dang, Alfonso, you made me late. I knew Alfonso mostly through church. We were altar boys together when we were twelve. We went to the same high school, but it wasn't like we were close, so I was surprised when he asked me to go hunting. But going hunting with Alfonso would please my parents. They worried that I was shy and didn't have enough friends. And hunting was damn near mandatory in Texas. Dad had taken me out a few times, and had practically an armory in the basement, including a couple of AR-15s. I think he was preparing for some kind of Deep State raid on our house. On Saturday, Alfonso's uncle greeted us cordially; I recognized him as someone who showed up at church every six weeks or so, but he didn't seem to know who I was. We set out and found a few rabbits, missing them mostly. Alfonso bagged one, but I was a terrible shot. We saw some pheasants and peppered the air around them, without hitting our targets. It was then that Alfonso said the peculiar thing: - Which do you like better: hamburgers or wieners? - What? - Most dudes like a pair of big round hamburger patties. But I prefer wieners. How about you? The look in his eye told me he was not talking about grilled food. He continued: - You told me earlier you weren't all that into hamburger patties, Augie. So are you into wieners? A wave of panic hit me. He looked straight into my eye and continued. - I like wieners. And guys who like wieners. And I brought my own wiener to this picnic. With that, he grabbed his crotch. His erection was crawling down his leg, begging to break free. - Would you like to see my wiener, Augie? With that, he put his hand on his belt and pulled the strap through the buckle. He lowered the zipper and, a moment later, his jeans and shorts dropped to the ground in a single maneuver. His erect cock flung out like a coat hook waiting for something to be draped over it. Like a mouth. - I know you want this, Augie. There's no one around. No one can see us. - Alfonso, it's a sin! - Lots of things are sins, Augie. The thing about most sins is . . . they're fun. - Homosexuals burn in hell. - Are you a homosexual? - No! - Then you won't burn in hell. With that, he put his hands on my shoulders and pushed downward. I didn't resist and fell to my knees. Wild things were going through my head, and I felt stirring in my own balls. Did I want this? I looked at his engorged cock, and felt my own cock tingle. Omigod, my body was crying out for this! My mind was screaming `no', but I was paralyzed as I felt his hand on the back of my head. I opened my mouth. And before I knew it, lust had overtaken me, and my lips surrounded his cockhead. - Oh, yeah, Augie. You wanted this. I've known for a long time you wanted this. There was nothing to say � not that I could speak with a mouth full of cock. I did want this, sinful as it was. I suppressed the urge to gag as I took him deeper and deeper, moistening his shaft with my saliva as I let his big member dominate me. He strengthened his grip on the back of my head and started bobbing me in and out, making me gag on occasion when it went too far too quick. His hand was rubbing all over my head, groaning in satisfaction, until the moment I heard a loud CRACK! It was the sound of a rifle shot. A figure strode toward us, rifle in his hands, face full of fury. Alfonso's uncle. I pulled myself off his cock and rose to my feet, wishing I was a million miles away. - What the hell is going on here? Neither of us knew what to say. - Pull your damn pants up, boy. Who's your faggot friend? - (Alfonso, thinking swiftly) His name's Matthew. - Matthew What? - (Alfonso, not thinking swiftly enough) Broderick. Matthew Broderick. The uncle, however, didn't seem to recognize the actor's name. - He looks familiar. Do I know him? - (Alfonso) No, he's just someone from school. - You'll have to sleep on your stomach tonight, once your father finishes with you. (to me) What's your father's phone number? Naturally, I gave a fake number, and, as luck would have it, no one answered the phone when he called. He left a voicemail: `Call me regarding something your son did'. Maybe whoever he called wouldn't have a son, or if they did call back, maybe they'd wait until after I'd gone. As long as my father didn't find out. My father never found out. Pastor Markson, however, did � about Alfonso, not me. Alfonso told him the other boy was someone from school who didn't belong to our church. Alfonso was expelled from the church. His family never returned, afraid to face the humiliation of being the family who raised that pervert boy. Which meant the uncle didn't return either, so he never had a chance to identify me as Alfonso's fellator. For the next several Sundays Pastor Markson sermonized on the evils of homosexuality and the special torments in store for homosexuals after they arrived in hell. He prayed � we all prayed � that Alfonso would reform, marry a good Christian woman, and settle down to a normal life with three kids, a golden retriever, a barbecue grill in the backyard and season tickets to the Dallas Cowboys. More or less. Alfonso's family pulled him out of my school and enrolled him in a Christian academy in another town. This was fine by me, as I didn't want to encounter him in class every day. I resolved that no remotely similar incident would EVER happen again, and that I would start dating girls. So I asked Emma to the next church social, where we engaged in pleasant conversation, drank fruit punch and feasted on oatmeal-raisin cookies, carrot sticks and cheese cubes on toothpicks. THE BEACH � SETH - (Cody) So if we're in the middle of the fuckin' Caribbean, what's a map of the Federal Reserve System doing here? - We don't know. Mister Benson, why did you come here this morning? You said you might have wandered off your property. Why were you wandering? - I was looking for my herd. - Your herd? - My cattle. Seen `em? - When was the last time you saw your cattle? There was a pause. - Don't rightly remember, to tell the truth. I just know they're missing. - (Harry) Does the name Onslow mean anything to you? It did. Every one of us could see that it did. Something happened to the man. It was as if he went into a comatose state for a moment. I took over. - Mr. Benson? Onslow - does that name mean something to you? - . . . What . . . why did you ask me that? - Do you know him? - I'm . . . did you see them? Either of them? - Mister Benson? We're not sure what you're trying to � - Shit. Was I on a plane? Thank goodness. He's come back to reality. - Yes, we're pretty sure you were. - They brought me here. Or maybe not. - Who brought you here? - Ray. Or maybe Gary. One of them. I just � that explains it. They probably rustled my cattle, too. Ray, anyway. Gary wouldn't do that. Whoa. Time to re-examine reality. Who was crazy here? Somebody clearly was. Possibilities: 1. Onslow, who thought he was a cattle rancher named Benson. 2. Benson, who, while on the plane, thought his name was Onslow. 3. Me. The last possibility was growing increasingly likely. Maybe this was all my fevered dream. Maybe I was in a coma in a hospital bed somewhere, hovering between life and death. No, probably not a hospital bed � how would I get there? On a beach. Or floating in the ocean. But alive � and yet not alive. - Seth? Harry's hand was on my shoulder. A real hand. A real shoulder. He was looking at me with concern. No, this was no coma. This was real. Harry was real. This insanity was real. It was insane, but it was real. - Sorry, Harry. I just got lost in thought there for a moment. Trying to sort all this out. - (Harry) Maybe we should press on toward the lighthouse, if that's what it is. I just feel like we need to go there. - (Augie) I do, too. - (Ed) Lead on, Macduff. The lighthouse. It was a clue to what was going on � perhaps the answer. If it was a real lighthouse, with real people staffing it, it could end this sense of limbo I was feeling. - (Cody) What lighthouse? - See that dome in the distance? With all the stripes? - (Cody, in a bit of wonder) Oh, yeah. Hadn't noticed that before. That's weird. - Listen, Cody, here's what happened. We were on a plane last night, heading to Aruba � ZTA Flight 12. You were on it also, but the flight attendant called you Onslow and not Benson. We hit massive turbulence and the plane broke apart. Then we found ourselves here. We don't know how we survived, but it seems like we did. And that lighthouse up there is the only sign of civilization we've seen, other than this sign you found. If we're going to get off this island, we need to find the people who live here. - (Ed) I've got to find my son. My wife will kill me if something happens to that boy. - And I've got to find my boyfriend. The word `boyfriend' prompted an uneasy look from Cody Benson. It appeared that Harry and I were surrounded by homophobes. But Harry was right � we had to press on. Time for me to step up to the plate and act like I knew what I was doing. - We're hoping we can find someone with the ability to contact a rescue team. - (Augie) My girlfriend Jordan's waiting for me in Aruba. With her sister. The three of us were vacationing together. She's got to be worried sick about me. QUEEN BEATRIX AIRPORT, ORANJESTAD, ARUBA � JORDAN It was the first flight I'd ever been on that was two-thirds female. The only men under forty on our flight were with their wives and/or children. An hour or so into the flight, they gave us the good news that ZTA Flight 12, the supplemental flight that carried all the young unmarried men, was continuing on from Santo Domingo, and should arrive within three hours of us. What a relief. I had Jen with me, but didn't want to have to wait overnight for Augie to arrive. ZTA didn't have a regular gate at the Queen Beatrix Airport but they told us that Augie's plane would be arriving at the same gate as our flight had. So we sat there, bored, while the inevitable occurred: Jen decided that this was the perfect time to have The Conversation. The one I didn't want to have. - So when are you going to tell Augie? - I will, Jen, I will. At the right moment. - And when is that going to be? - I'll know it when it happens. - Is it going to be before or after he proposes to you? Because you know that's what he's going to do on this trip. I'm going home Tuesday. You're going home Friday. Wednesday or Thursday he's going to propose to you. - Augie's shy. Maybe he won't. - I'm willing to bet he's already booked a table at a nice restaurant for one of those nights. He's shy, Jordan, but he's a romantic. - He's also very conservative. And very religious. - Which is why he hasn't slept with you. And won't until your wedding night. Is that when you want him to find out? - I'll have the operation before then. And breast implants. - Your vagina won't be the same as a cis woman's. - What's he going to compare it with? Augie is sweet, he's innocent, he's never slept with a woman, he won't sleep with another woman. I'll put off the wedding until I have the operation and get breast implants. Jeez, Jen, stop worrying. Augie is in love with me. With ME. And when we get married, he will make love to ME, the person � Jordan Murdock. And he'll never know, and he'll be very happy, and so will I because I love him. - So you're going to get married without telling him. - It can work, Jen. I won't even have to change my name. Jordan Taylor Murdock. Jordan and Taylor are both girls' names as well as guys'. It's perfect. - It's dishonest, Jordan. Marriage is based on trust. - Jen, if I tell him now, he'll go away. He won't understand. He'll be horrified that he fell in love with a guy. I'll lose him. Please, please understand that. - . . . Sadly, I do understand that. The poor fool. He's like a fish on a hook. The kindest thing you could do would be to let him go. But . . . who knows, Jordan, maybe you're right. Maybe it will work out. But I'm rather fond of Augie myself, and I don't want to see him hurt. Just whatever you do, be caref - - Shhh! There's an announcement! ALL PASSENGERS AWAITING ZTA FLIGHT 12, PLEASE COME TO THE V.I.P. LOUNGE BY GATE 8. PASSENGERS AWAITING ZTA FLIGHT 12, TO THE V.I.P. LOUNGE. Where they gave us the news. Flight 12 had disappeared from radar without explanation. We shouldn't panic, it was possible that communications had failed and that the plane's signal simply wasn't being received. However, they could not rule out the possibility that some kind of `incident' had occurred. I knew what the word `incident' meant. It meant the plane had crashed. It meant that Augie was dead. OFF THE WEST COAST OF THE ISLAND � STAN We should have hit the Caribbean at a thousand miles per hour, perhaps losing consciousness along the way from lack of oxygen. How aware I would have been of my impending death the instant before it occurred is a question I will never be able to answer. Because we didn't plummet into the sea at a thousand miles per hour. We sort of wafted down as if carried on the back of a Targaryen dragon � or, more plausibly, hitting some kind of updraft so powerful that it slowed our descent to a survivable level. When we hit the water, it was almost like landing on a runway. We plunged slightly below the surface, but immediately bobbed back up. There must have been some degree of buoyancy in the plane fragment that made it want to float. The moon was not full, but provided enough light to see. I looked around. Al Casey, the Costco clerk from Syracuse sitting next to me, was gasping for breath. Which meant he was alive. Astonishingly, everyone I could see � including Percy, the flight attendant � was alive. And we were floating on the ocean. More astonishingly, we were only a few hundred feet from the shore of an island. Magical. (I should have known then. Too magical.) I unfastened my seat belt. A pair of Bahamians who'd been seated behind me plunged into the water and swam to shore. I was considering doing the same, when Al grabbed my arm. - I can't swim. Oh, shit, maybe he's not the only one. I called out: - Who can't swim to shore? Four or five voices responded. The flight attendant, still strapped in his seat, spoke. - There are flotation devices under your seat. We can have a buddy system � someone who can't swim pair up with someone who can, and � He was interrupted by a wave that pushed the entire segment of the plane closer to the shore. I had an idea. - Wait. Maybe we won't have to swim. The waves may do the work for us. Let's see how close we can come by letting them push us. Buckle back up. It took about twenty minutes but a series of waves gradually pushed us close enough to the shore that we could reach it without swimming. The Bahamians waded out to help. Percy gathered us together and took a quick count. Twelve, plus him. That was everyone on the left half of the plane. We were all alive. I grieved for the right half. As the plane was torn apart, the right half seemed to have gone down like an anvil, while we had gradually descended as if by parachute. Those on the right had obviously perished; as miraculous as our descent had been, theirs could not have been so fortuitous. I looked hard at Percy. He had insisted that I switch seats with a querulous man named Onslow who had wanted to sit on the left half of the plane. I wanted to know why. Had the switch not been made, Onslow would still be alive � and I would be dead. It was a warm Caribbean night. We clumped together in small groups on the beach, sand clinging to our wet clothing. I chatted briefly with the Bahamians � the darker one's name was Theo and the cocoa-colored man was Piers; they looked like a gay couple, but were just friends. I was near Al and another man, who had been sitting in front, a short, trim, handsome man with a neat dark beard. We introduced ourselves. - Stan Kowalczyk. - Al Casey. - Abe Derisian. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER FOUR � THIS IS NOT A LIGHTHOUSE]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-26	Date: Thu, 4 Apr 2024 15:24:25 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 26 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: THIS COULD CHANGE EVERYTHING Previously, on the island's surface: * Augie, fleeing a libidinous Ray, and Jordan (trying to protect him) encounter the green dodecagon where it shouldn't be and disappear from sight. This occurs during a bathing/laundry session at the stream, and when it is over, the others discover their clothes have vanished. * Seth, frustrated over Augie's capture, decides he must do something radically different: He will get captured himself. Harry is opposed to this idea, not wanting to be put in charge of those still left on the surface. * Miles is captured by a `penis garden', which impales him anally, then whisks him underground. Underground: * Startled by Jordan's unexpected arrival with Augie, Hamish asks Stimulever for guidance: Jordan is put in the dildo chair, while Augie is put into bondage, chamber pots to be emptied over him. Unaware of this directive, Barry, ordered to fuck Augie, ironically vows to `fuck the shit out of him'. * Earlier, Barry had fucked Abe quite roughly. Abe liked it. * As punishment for the failed escape attempt, Piers and Theo are bound in the Dark Room and penetrated by fucking machines; Al is castrated and faces execution. In flashbacks: * During their second date, Seth freaked Abe out by handcuffing him to the bed. * At Cambridge, a young Ed had a sexual encounter with a fellow student, Ryan Mackenzie. * * * * * * * * TUESDAY, DECEMBER 11 * * * * * * * * THE DARK ROOM � JORDAN I was a jumble of mixed emotions � I felt like a failure, failing to protect Augie. But once I got on the dodecagon, it was � I don't know, pleasant. Something penetrated my ass, thin at first, then thicker, as it `fucked' me. And � well, it felt good. But it disintegrated as the ground collapsed beneath our feet and took us into the abyss. I fell into blackness, and landed on top of someone. He gave a terrific scream and yelled at me to get off him, his gut was burst. Augie fell on top of another guy and he screamed in pain as well. What WAS this place? Augie and I got up and tried to release the two men but couldn't. They kept telling us to get help, their guts were ruptured and they might bleed to death. They weren't guys Augie knew from the Tower; they had Caribbean accents. We couldn't see anything in the total darkness, but we felt around and found a door, and pounded on it for a while. Eventually some people came � as naked as we were. They took the two Caribbeans away and left Augie and me pondering what was coming next. An hour or so later, they came back, seized me by all four limbs, and forced me onto a chair with a dildo embedded into it. Then they took Augie. And I don't know why � or what's happening to him. A SHOWER STALL � AUGIE They stuck Jordan on some kind of bondage chair which was apparently painful and dragged me out of the room. The next thing I knew they had wrapped chains around me, tying me up so tight that I could hardly breathe, much less move. And they shoved me in this shower stall. Little did I know that was going to be the best part of the rest of my day. I don't want to describe what happened after that. It was too disgusting, and too reminiscent of what I had done to myself the night Ray tried to rape me. It was like somehow they knew about that and were trying to torture me in the most revolting way possible. The smell was enough to knock you off your feet. I wanted to vomit, but fortunately had not eaten yet today and had nothing inside me. And then they sent in this guy who � god, he must have been sick to want to even be there with me in that environment. Anyway he . . . well, he did to me what Lucas had done a few days ago. It was dirty and it was disgusting, but � Pastor Markson, forgive me � the physical sensation in itself wasn't awful. It was pain, but it was also pleasure. I tried to block out the pain and the humiliation and the smell and the disgust by focusing on what small amount of pleasure I was feeling. I prayed for forgiveness afterwards. I shouldn't have liked even a little of it. And I think being locked up in a pile of shit was punishment for my sin. When I first arrived on the island, I wondered if I was in hell. Now, I truly was in hell � maybe not the real hell, I don't know, maybe it was. It doesn't matter. I'm doomed. * * * * * * * * WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 12 * * * * * * * * THE THRONE ROOM � PERCY - Pussycat. - Yes, Master? - Would you prefer my cock in your mouth or your ass this morning? - Ass, please. - You are a good puss, aren't you? I've been wondering � you seemed to enjoy your encounter with Barry the other day. Abe looked at me cautiously, evaluating whether it was too dangerous to tell the truth. I knew the answer to be `yes', but if he said that, would I fly into a jealous rage? Oh, Abe, you are so beautiful when you're trying to make up your mind. - I must admit I did enjoy it. - He was rather harsh with you. - Yes, he was. - And you liked that. - . . . I did. - Maybe we should give Barry more opportunities to fuck that nice cunt of yours, how would that be? - If it's what you want, Master. - I think it's what YOU want, Abe, even if you don't know it. Tell me, do you like to be spanked? FLASHBACK: ABE (CLEVELAND) � December, two years ago It was a full year before I met Seth and had that delightful first date � and the disastrous second one when he handcuffed me to the bed. I had another boyfriend at the time. - Come on, Abe, it's for charity. - Ian. - It's for homeless LGBTQ youth. - That's not fair, Ian. You're trying to guilt me into this. - Yes, I am. The more people who do this, the more money that gets raised. - I know, but a slave auction? Really? - Why not? You mostly bottom. - Yeah, but being a guy's slave � - For a night. - � for a night, I mean, what are the limits? - Minimum bid is $200. - That's not what I meant, and you know it. - It's between you and him to negotiate. BDSM is by mutual agreement, Abe. You can pre-establish limits, and he needs to respect them. - Well . . . - And you'll probably go for three times the minimum bid. Think of the good that money could do. So that's how I found myself one of a dozen guys on auction in front of a crowd of about a hundred sweaty, testosterone-infused guys at The Blockhouse. Actually, Ian told me, there would be thirteen � to wind up the evening, a thirteenth slave would be selected at random from all those in attendance � everyone there was putting their ass on the line just by showing up. - I hope it's you, Ian. - You might get your wish. Only about a one-percent chance, but it has to be somebody. I was eighth on the program. They dressed me in a leather harness, chaps, and boots. A good bit of skin showing. I was displayed from all angles, with a lot of catcalling and hooting � which was, frankly, a real turn-on. I knew I had a good body and my face wasn't bad either. Okay, let's just state it immodestly � I'm hot. My ass is classic and when they made me face the back of the stage I wiggled it around freely to roars from the crowd. The guy who bought me had to go up to $900. He was two hundred twenty pounds of stud, covered in fur from head to toe, and covered in muscles everywhere it counted. Just my type. He came up on stage and picked me up bodily, draping me over his shoulder like he was carrying a captive woman off to be raped. Which, I guess, was my role. It wouldn't be rape � I was consenting to this. I knew he was going to stick his cock into me � that was welcome. The rest would be negotiated. When he got me back to his apartment, one thing became clear. He had paid a lot of money for me, and expected to get his money's worth. - Get your damn clothes off, boy, before I decide to hurt you more than you're prepared to be hurt. - Yes, Sir! (playing the part enthusiastically � I WAS turned on by how authoritative he was) I stripped for him and by the time I did, I was hard as a rock. - Lookin' good, boy. Now get into the sling. - Uh, Sir � before we get started. Limits? Safe words? That sort of thing? He smacked me on the side of my head. - You think I'm going to pay nine hundred dollars for you and then goddamn NEGOTIATE what I can do? - I was given to understand that � - Understand this, boy! You are mine for the evening. I paid a helluva lot of money for you. There are no limits and no safe words. I am your god and you will do what I say. He saw the fear in my eyes. - Oh, relax, boy. I'm not going to kill you. We're just going to have a little fun. I'll take you further than you've ever been, and you'll love it. But I call the shots � understood? I did � and again, part of me � the part between my legs � thrilled at the prospect. He was a Grade A specimen of prime beef and the thought of being in his meaty hands put the fear of God into me, and pumped a lot of blood into my cock. - Yes, sir, I understand, sir. Do with me what you will, sir. - That's better. Only I find you a bit chatty. I don't want you calling out `red' in the middle of this like some goddam coward. So let's make sure you don't do that. He rolled up my briefs, rubbed them against his crotch, and stuffed them in my mouth. Tape went around my head to secure my gag in place. - You ever been fisted, boy? - (No. I can't say it out loud, so I'll just shake my head.) - Then you're in for a treat. Advice: if you're going to have your first fisting experience, don't do it with a guy whose hands are the size of bowling balls. Okay, I exaggerate, but only slightly. He went slow, a gallon or so of lubricant filling my asshole � or so it seemed. His gloved fingertips slid past my sphincter, and I thought, "this isn't so very, very bad". Until it got to the knuckles, which forced their way in, not gently. My empathy for women giving birth tripled, the concept of a large mass moving through a narrow channel being one with which I could suddenly identify. - And now we're getting to the second sphincter. The second sphincter? I had two? I had no idea. He seemed pleased that the entry was straight, explaining that not everyone's lower bowels were shaped the same, and some guys had twists and turns that made fisting more complicated. Past the second sphincter. I felt like I had a boulder in my gut. He stayed there for a good three minutes, then slowly worked his way out, every square inch of my colon screaming in protest. My brain was confused � processing the pain transmitted from the nerve endings while simultaneously summoning endorphins. The pleasure was insufficient to overpower the pain, but might have managed it if he had had smaller hands. He cleaned me up, and himself, and I was glad that was over with. I wondered if his hand was going to be replaced by his cock � if you've paid nine hundred dollars to buy a slave for the night, you surely expect to breed him. And tied up in the sling, I was in the perfect position for fucking � and helpless to prevent it. But I was exhausted, and wanted no more. Instead, he released me from the restraints. Would his next words be permission for me to dress and go home? Maybe fisting was his thing, and we were finished for the evening. He had purchased me for charity, after all; perhaps it was time for him to display some charity of his own. - Well, that's enough for the inside of your ass. Until I fuck you, of course. But first, let's concentrate on the outside. He ordered me to bend over the arm of a wingchair. It was padded, but still dug into my ribs. He didn't care about that, only that it put my ass at the right height and right angle for spanking. - Thin or thick? That's always the question, isn't it? The cane has a really nice sting to it, and produces lovely stripes. It can be excruciatingly painful if you hit the same spot repeatedly. But the broader implements can hit a larger area and change the color of your cheeks in a hurry. With a white boy like you, I like to see the color change, and see how rosy red I can get it, so I'm going to use a nice prison strap on you. And, rest assured, I'm going to be swinging it as hard as I can. WHACK! Man, he wasn't kidding! I've occasionally indulged in some playful spanking, but nothing like this. This was major punishment. I held my breath, determined not to make a sound. WHACK! Breathe, Abe, breathe. Don't let him � WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Okay, it was going to be difficult to keep silent if he went beyond ten or so. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! Lost cause. The grunts came out. But I managed to keep it to that, soft grunts. I never asked him to stop, or even pause. After fifty astonishingly painful whacks, he pulled me up and attached handcuffs to me � but not where I expected him to. One half went around my wrist. The other half went around my junk. The cold steel wrapped around my cock and balls like a cock ring gone crazy. It bit into my scrotum and tore into my pubic hair, which he acknowledged he should have shaved off. A second pair of handcuffs connected my two hands, so that my right hand was double-cuffed. And then came another fifty whacks of the belt. I had to keep my body perfectly still or the impact on my balls would be excruciating. I refused to beg for him to stop, much as I wanted to. - Well, you took that good, boy. Didn't worry you as much as it should. We'll have to up the ante. I want to hear you scream. He removed the handcuffs connecting my two wrists, and freed my right wrist from the other pair. But still my cock and balls were enclosed in the metal ring. And then he brought out a little pen-like device and touched the end of it to the metal handcuffs. I screamed. Electricity. Rapidly conducted through the metal and zapping my balls. He laughed. - That's the way, boy. That's getting my money's worth. He continued to zap the handcuffs, ten, twenty times, and then turned the device directly onto my balls. I screamed my bloody head off, I have never felt anything so excruciating in my life. And then he fucked me � twice � the second time with a spiked condom. Blood streamed from my asshole. He dipped a finger in it and smeared it over my face. I had no doubt he would have fed it to me had my mouth not been full of underwear. I resolved then and there that I would walk out immediately on any man who even SHOWED me a pair of handcuffs. It traumatized me for months. THE PHALLIC TOWER � HARRY - I can't talk you out of this? - Harry, you know it's right. All the twelves you found � today's the twelfth. Gotta shake things up. Gotta be today. What do I have to lose? - Everything. - Already lost my clothes. - So did I. So did everybody. - Jasper still has his pants and Tim has his briefs. - And they both have shoes. - That's six items of clothing, for six of you. You can divvy them up, one item apiece. - I can see it now: Daniel Day Lewis in My Left Shoe. - Glad to see you haven't lost your sense of humor. - They might not take you, you know. You're special, Seth. They might want to keep you up here. - The penis garden was ready to take me on Monday. - I'm going to see you off. - No. Harry. Not without clothes. You might not be able to resist the penis garden. Miles couldn't. - What if I weren't COMPLETELY naked? I think I could get into one of Tim's shoes. - I'm not sure if shoes are enough to deter it. - Test it. - Okay. If a shoe is enough, you can come. Though I have to warn you, it's not a pretty sight. You're a pretty sight, I thought to myself. You're as pretty a sight as I've ever seen. And there are more reasons for not wanting you to go than just my fear of leadership. - Seth. - Yeah? - I . . . - What? - . . . I might not see you again. - Harry � - Ever. This might be the last time we ever see each other. - Well, if you're that anxious to join me, you can find a dodecagon on your birthday � that's Monday? - Seth, we don't know where these things take us. We might not wind up in the same place. We might not wind up in the same universe. We might wind up dead. - Time to find out, Harry. Time to find out. This could change everything. Time to find out. Time to find out if I can manage without the one man who's given me more confidence in myself than I've ever had in my life. Oh, Seth, you gorgeous hunk of man, don't leave me. You were right in one respect: This COULD change everything. THE PHALLIC TOWER � JASPER - It was my fault, Jasper. I caused them to get captured. - Gary, don't be ridiculous. You weren't even there. - If I were stronger, if I were more of a man, I wouldn't have let him take over like that. - Cody let him take over. You weren't there. - Same difference. I'm scared, Jasper. Ray . . . with you being naked and everything, he might. . . you should have kept your pants, Jasper. I appreciate your giving them to me, even if they are a little short � but Ray might come after you looking like that. - Looking like what? - In your birthday suit. - I'm not in my birthday suit. I have shoes on. - I don't think shoes would stop him, Jasper. - Anyway, he didn't show any interest in me before. - That's when Augie was here. He might now. Of everyone left, you're the one that . . . - I'm the one that what? - You're . . . like . . . you have the best . . . I mean, looking at you . . . - Gary, are you trying to say you like me? - . . . - . . . Gary, stay with me. - . . . - . . . Gary? - For corn's sake, Jasper, you can't go around stark naked. Maybe Seth has to, but nobody else does. Put some clothes on. - I can't. - Why the hell not? - . . . I guess you don't know, Cody, you haven't been here. You're wearing the only pair of pants we have left. - Yeah, well they're too damn short. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH I borrowed one of Tim's shoes � they didn't really fit but I could force my feet into them, as opposed to Jasper's, which were too small � and slipped away to the penis garden that had taken Miles. I conducted my second round of experiments. I stepped onto the mowed area � no effect. I then slipped off my shoe and tried again. Instantly, little penises sprouted out of the ground. For a moment, I considered letting them take me right then and there, but I had made a promise to Harry and couldn't bear the thought of him wondering where I had gotten to without giving him a chance to say good-bye. I jumped quickly back to safety. A second test with the shoe � successful. I returned to the tower and gathered the guys � Harry, Vic, Ed, Tim, Jasper and (from his body language) Cody. The only ones left. I explained to them what I was going to do and why. They were upset but supportive. I said I was putting Harry in charge and that I trusted him and they should listen to him like they had listened to me. Harry turned red but the others nodded in support � with one exception. - (Ed) Harry? Harry's incompetent. He was supposed to guard Augie and lost him and Jordan both. And I hold him responsible for Leo � he couldn't keep up with us, so he stayed behind with the others. - Now hold on, Ed � - (Jasper) Ed, if you want to blame somebody for Leo, blame me. I let him wander off to do his business, I didn't go with him. - (Cody) I was there, too. - (Vic) So was I. That's three people you can blame, none of them named Harry. And get a mirror out to find a fourth. You were with him as well. - (Ed) If we'd had proper leadership � - Look, Ed. Leo's one reason I'm doing this. If I go where I think I'm going, I may be able to find him. - (Ed) Oh, hell, Seth, he's dead and you know it. The earth swallowed him up, like Paul. - Maybe, but I don't think he's dead, or Augie or Paul, any of them. I think he's in a different universe. - (Ed) Well if he is, I hope it's a universe where everybody is straight. FLASHBACK: ED (ATLANTA) � September, last year There was a conference in Atlanta. I'd been invited to lecture about recent advances in the surgical technique I had developed over a dozen years ago � the one largely responsible for my knighthood. It was Leo's first year at Georgia Tech, and, of course, Beatrice was anxious for me to check up on him. I called him and suggested we have dinner at my hotel. He seemed . . . less than enthusiastic. As I sat at my table, waiting for him, a man approached. - Ed! Ed Niemann! I caught your lecture! Brilliant. - Thank you. - You don't remember me. - You certainly look familiar. (He didn't.) Remind me? - Orson Threece. I don't expect you'd remember me � I was a year behind you at Cambridge. - Ah, yes, of course. We were both a lot younger then � appearances change. Bluff. I didn't remember him at all. But I didn't pay much attention to classes behind mine, and I was rather a rock star at Cambridge, so probably any pre-med student would be aware of who I was. - Listen, may I join you? - Well, actually I'm meeting my son, he's a freshman at Georgia Tech, and � - Oh, that's terrific. I'd love to meet him. He sat down at my table. I tried not to let my irritation show. We ordered drinks, which I charged to my room. We talked shop for a few minutes, then it was time to get rid of him. - Orson, I don't mean to rush you, but Leo will be here any minute, and � - Leo, that's your boy? Great name, Leo. It means `lion', you know. - (Yeah. I know.) - Amazing us both being at the same conference. Kind of even surprising we both settled in the States. I'm in Huntsville. United General. Head of surgery there. - I'm � - Brigham and Women's, like we don't all know that. At this point, Leo walked in, and took Orson's presence with his usual indifference. - (Leo) Hey, Dad. Who's your friend? - (Orson, extending a hand) Orson Threece. Hey, Ed, he looks just like you. - (Actually, he doesn't, to the extent that I have sometimes questioned my wife's fidelity.) - (Orson) Leo, it's Friday night, and you're not out on a date? Or you got something lined up a little later, like me? You not shocked by that, are you, Leo? I mean, a man has needs, right? And when the cat's away from his spouse � the cat will play with a mouse. - I don't think that's how the saying goes, Orson. - (Orson) I'm sure your old man knows what I'm talking about. These conventions � what you going to do in the evenings, right? But in a big city like Atlanta, there's always ways you can connect, right? A little hanky, a little panky � what the old lady doesn't know won't hurt her, know what I mean? You know how it is, right, Ed? - (Leo) Oh, my father's terribly faithful to my mother, aren't you dad. Of course, I'm not sure how often they've actually had sex, given that I don't have any little brothers or sisters. Well, not any full brothers or sisters � I don't know about half-siblings, Dad's rather close-mouthed about that. - Leo! - (Leo) Oops. Family skeletons, I shouldn't be so open about them. Sorry, Dad. He was enjoying this, the little shit. - (Orson) Ed, listen, the little something I have lined up for later � I bet she has a friend. - I don't think � - (Orson) Leo, you're not a prude, right? You don't mind our discussing this, huh? So how about it, Ed? Shall I send her friend up to your room? Let me make a phone call. - Orson, please. That's not . . . necessary. - (Orson) Oh, you already have something planned. You sly dog. - No, I don't have something planned. I � - (Orson) Great. Room 815, right? - How did you � - (Orson) You charged our drinks to your room. - . . . Orson, if you don't mind, I'd like some time alone with my son. - (Leo) Well, that's a first. - (Orson) Yes, of course. A little father-and-son talk. Man-to-man. Go get `em, tiger. I mean, lion. He gave me a knowing wink then, thankfully, left. I spent a torturous hour with Leo, then sent him on his way, while I escaped to the confines of my room. It was late, and I undressed, got into bed, and switched off the light. Five minutes later, I heard a click, followed by something quiet. It sounded like footsteps approaching the bed, stealthily. I reached for the phone, but it was on the other side of the bed. I felt a bounce; the center of gravity of the mattress had shifted. The other side of the bed had an occupant. - Orson sent me. He said you were in the mood for some hot sex. It was a British voice. A male British voice. THE MEADOW � SETH They all went with me � Cody wearing Jasper's slacks, Tim in his briefs, and all the others wearing exactly one shoe. Vic was struggling, memories being too painful from the last time he was here. Harry was struggling, too � for different reasons. Tim looked curious and Jasper looked thoughtful, but Ed and Cody both reacted with disgust. I was afraid the sight of the phallus would bring Ray out to play, but Cody remained in control of Gary's body. Maybe he needed protection from any emotion at all � and Cody was just the man for that. I shook hands with each of them, but I hugged the bulk of Harry's body, my arms unable to surround him. He looked like he was on the verge of tears � but was not allowing himself that luxury of emotion. - Harry, you'll be fine. You're a good man. And when we get back to civilization � and I mean WHEN, not if � we'll find someone for you. You sell yourself short � there's a bear-lover out there who would be perfect for you. I'll help you find him. - (Jasper) Hear, hear. Ed rolled his eyes. And then I stepped onto the short grass and the six of them stared, transfixed, as one human-sized black dildo after another popped out of the ground until the entire semi-circle was blanketed. It would have been difficult to walk on them barefoot, as they were not even in height, but I had no need to walk. I just needed to wait. It didn't take long. A single spear shot up and invaded my asshole with amazing speed and accuracy. I heard the others cry out in astonishment, even though I had prepared them for the spectacle. The super-dildo pushed up my rectum until it could go no further and then continued to rise, taking me with it. It was not comfortable � I might be gay, but I had not been on the receiving end of an anal penetration since my days with Sean. My rectum gripped the dildo like Velcro; it felt like a flashlight had been rammed up my ass, although it surely was not that thick. A fence of dildos sprung up around the mown area, like the fence that had surrounded the green dodecagon when it swallowed Augie and Jordan. But soon I was raised up above it and could see the startled faces of the men I had grown so close to over the course of the last twelve days. Harry was shaking his head, as if blaming himself for allowing me to go ahead with this crazy plan. Vic was stone-faced, undoubtedly reliving the trauma of watching Miles's impalement. Ed looked away. Jasper and Tim stood there transfixed and helpless. And Cody � Cody was sporting a spectacular erection. I knew he was no longer Cody; the sight of a dildo up my ass was too stimulating to keep Ray in hibernation. They looked on as the super-dildo took me high, high in the air. I could see the phallic tower from here, sixty feet up, and a lot of the island, though not all the way to the shore. I felt unbalanced, like I was going to fall off, but the prong up my hole was so long and so strong that, even though I was waving my legs, it wasn't going to let me go. And then it got hot. It got fiery hot, as if a hundred jalape�o peppers had been rammed up my ass. Jasper screamed; Harry looked like he was going to vomit. I began to kick wildly and wave my arms about � the pain was so intense and I was helpless to do anything about it. I knew, without seeing it, that the super-dildo had turned red, like iron forged by a blacksmith. I also knew, from having witnessed Miles' ordeal, that it would stop soon and that the climax was imminent. I heard Tim say, `Oh, thank God' as the sensations in my ass cooled. And then � down I went. Plummeting earthward, like I had plummeted from the sky twelve days before. And, like then, I had no idea where I would land. The ground approached. AL'S CELL � STAN - Listen, Al. They're going to come for you soon. - (crying) - I want you to know. I'm glad I got to know you. And . . . I know a little bit about this place. - You mean how they're all perverts and like to fuck straight guys? And cut off their balls and then kill them? I know all that part, Stan. - Yeah. I do, too. It will be over soon. You won't have to suffer anymore. - I won't have to breathe anymore either. - Al, you aren't really dying. - I think when they chop off your head, you die, Stan. - You're still alive. In the other universe. - I'm not in the other universe. - But there's still Al Casey. You'll exist. - But he's like some other person. Will he know who I am? Will I . . . become him? Will I still have consciousness? - I don't know, maybe. Maybe your memories will go into that Al Casey. It will be like sleeping and then you'll wake up as somebody else. And all of this will be like a dream. - Will I have balls again? - Yeah. He has balls. So you'll have balls. And you won't have been raped, and you won't have been beaten. - And I won't have gone through this with you. I won't be aware I ever knew you, will I? - We don't know that. We did both fly to Aruba, you know. Maybe our Alpha-selves became friends there. But even so � I mean, you have a life there. You were happy there. - I was. - And you will be again. - Unless I'm just dead and that's it. I hoped I could ever forgive myself � and Ian � for what was happening to Al. It was supposed to be me. I was supposed to be the eunuch. I was supposed to place my head on the chopping block. And now � My reverie � and my good-bye � was interrupted when one of the lieutenants entered the room. - (Al) Oh God it's time. - (the lieutenant) Actually, it isn't. Something unexpected just happened. You've been reprieved. Temporarily. They have to sort things out, they said. - So . . . they're not going to kill me? - Not now. Maybe later. - What happened? - I'm not sure. Something about a trigger. THE THRONE ROOM � BARRY - Seriously, Master? You're going to let me do this? - You've been a good boy, Barry. I told you that you'd be a dom again. And Percy specifically requested it. He wants to ratchet things up for the boy. - What kind of limits? - Well, technically, none, short of killing him or severing a body part. Anything else will heal overnight. But, Barry, don't go overboard. You want to leave room for things to escalate. This is his first time � at least, down here. - Can I fuck him, Master? - What a silly question. You're required to fuck him. THE THRONE ROOM - ABE Percy had asked me if I liked to be spanked. I did. But not five hundred times, with five different implements, not one of which was his hand. The last hundred were with a cane, which by the end of it seemed like it was cutting through my flesh like it was butter. I didn't want to see what my ass looked like � it was more than just striped. I'm sure I had lost skin. I was screaming my head off while Percy stood by, approving, urging him on. - (Percy) Well, pussycat, you said you liked to be spanked. Barry went a little overboard, but your sweet little rump looks so beautiful all decorated like that. - Mmmph. - (Percy) Yes, yes, I know, gags are difficult to talk through, don't try, my pet. I wish I knew what Hamish's plans for you were. You're not one of The Twelve. That doesn't bode well for you. I've told him I want you with me permanently, but I just don't know if that's in the cards. So . . . I'll have to enjoy it while I have you. - Mmmmph. - (Percy) Barry? - (Barry) Yes, Mistress Percy? - (Percy) I may be Hamish's spouse, but I am not `Mistress Percy'. - (Barry) Sorry � Master Percy. - (Percy) That's better. I was going to punish you by withholding your fuck, but since you apologized � - (Barry) Thank you, Master Percy. - (Percy) Anyway, my pussycat likes your cock in his pussy. With my ass in tatters, now was not really the time I wanted to feel his body bumping against it. But I did enjoy the way he humped me like there was no tomorrow. It made me feel both helpless and sexy. Particularly blindfolded, so I was cut off from all visual elements and could concentrate on the sensual. Midway through the fuck, there was a commotion. And I heard Hamish's voice: - Stefan, stop. Take the blindfold off Abe, we'll need him. Then leave � I need to talk to Percy. Stefan. One of the Unholy Trio. They probably had the largest cocks of all the lieutenants � at least I hoped there was none larger than theirs. Barry remained in the room, and Hamish ordered him between his legs. Hamish liked a blow-job while making decisions, and Percy liked to be similarly occupied. Hence, his `need' for me. Percy sat on his chair, lifted his caftan and spread his legs. I took his shaft into my mouth and began working it, all the while listening intently. Something was going on. - We need to call Switzerland. We've had another uninvited guest. - Who? - What would be the worst possible answer to that question? - . . . Not the trigger. - Exactly. This could change everything. I had no idea what a trigger was, but if this could change everything, and they were worried about it � it might be a good thing. ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND � JES�S - (Paolo) I don't understand how this could happen. His dodecagon's not active until the 31st. - Sean, you took the call. - (Sean) Apparently, he wandered into a penis portal. - A penis portal? - (Sean) Well, we've kept him in the nude. He was vulnerable. - (Ari) He was vulnerable to an ACTIVE penis portal. But they were supposed to be shut down. - Demetrius? You're in charge of the grounds. - (Demetrius) They WERE shut down after all the left-siders were captured. But they automatically reactivated when King and Murdock landed on the island. - (Thibaut) That's my fault, sir. We didn't foresee that as a consequence of them landing. Of course we realized that's what must have happened, after one of them snared King. - So why wasn't the penis portal shut down after King was captured? - (Demetrius) I was tied up � meeting with Thibaut, Dolph and Simon to see what other changes to the island were necessary � so I told Dion to do it. - And Dion . . . - (Demetrius) Was drunk, and must have forgotten. - I think we need to have a serious discussion about whether Dion should continue as a member of this board. We might replace him with Estevan. - (Sean) In the meantime, what do we tell Hamish? - Keep Herrick under wraps for the time being. Thibaut, you know what to do. - (Thibaut) Call Dolph and run the simulations. - Be thorough. This could change everything. THE WHITE ROOM � SETH I looked around. It was as if I had landed on foam rubber, a big white fluffy mass in a room of four white walls and a white ceiling. If this was an alternate universe, it was certainly monochromatic � and not very interesting. I thought briefly again about this being an afterlife, no doubt associating the color white with heaven or something clich�d like that. I walked around, finding a door, and couldn't open it. Okay, folks, if that's the way you want to play it. I was alone, so either I had landed in a different spot from Miles or they had let him out. I felt certain they had let him out. And they will let me out. And then, my friends, watch out. Because I'm going to get to the bottom of this. And rescue Abe. This WILL change everything. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN � NOW THAT I'M HERE, I WANT OUT]
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-33	Date: Sun, 28 Apr 2024 15:28:19 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 33 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: STIMULEVER FOREVER PREVIOUSLY: It's time to take a brief pause from the trials and tribulations of the Flight 12 passengers and ask: How much do we actually know about what's going on? Here's some of what has been revealed: * The island is part of a temporary alternate universe, Betaworld, that is a key component of `The Project', created by a corporation, Stimulever, based in Switzerland and headed by a man named Jes�s. * The Project is to be launched on New Year's Eve. To achieve a successful launch, `the physics' require the deaths of all left-siders, Seth's daily sex with one of the Twelve, and other bizarre criteria, not all of which have been disclosed. * Ultimately, The Project's launch depends upon a decision that Seth must make on New Year's Eve, after he returns underground. * Sean has told the inhabitants of the Phallic Tower that The Project will alter the `real world' (Alphaworld) in a way that will prevent them from experiencing the horrific upcoming year that Stimulever's computers have projected for The Twelve. However, Sean has been known to lie when it suits his purpose. That being said, we don't really know what The Project is, or why Stimulever is working so arduously to effect it. It is time to find out. Which involves a little history lesson � about Stimulever. FLASHBACK: JES�S (ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND) � FOUR YEARS AGO The number twelve reverberates through society and history � twelve months in a year, twelve signs of the Zodiac, twelve animals in the Chinese calendar, twelve tribes of Israel, twelve members of a jury, twelve hours in the a.m. or p.m., twelve inches in a foot, twelve notes in a musical scale. . . . I could go on for a while. Is it any wonder that the number twelve is central to The Project? I wish I could say I founded Stimulever when I was twelve, but in fact I was eighteen. Yes, eighteen. My parents, Carlos and Rita Cortez, were titans of the financial world, who relocated from Santiago to Z�rich when I was six, so I grew up Swiss, despite my Latino heritage. I am not given to false modesty, so I will frankly declare that I was something of a boy genius, and my parents hired the best private tutors in the world, not unlike the young Alexander the Great being tutored by Aristotle. My tutors, however, concentrated on science and mathematics. By the time I was fourteen, I had a Masters degree from ETH Z�rich; I added a doctorate from MIT two years later. I had little interest in global economics. Nevertheless, my father was envious of my talents and feared that I would take over his financial empire, generating tension between us. His sudden death when I was sixteen prompted whispers that I was responsible. My mother, always protective of me, quickly established a trust fund from her inheritance, to which I would have access on my eighteenth birthday. By that time I had a fabulous idea in my head, developed with the help of Thibaut (whom I had met at MIT), and I decided to formulate my own company, which I called initially by the rather mysterious (but hopefully intriguing) name of A Lush Theme, Inc. Thibaut became my technical guru (though not my partner) and I quickly brought in others to serve as my corporate board. Ten others. Ten, because I knew instinctively that the Board had to comprise exactly twelve men. We pulled in Sean, Paolo, Falcon, Simon, Ari, Demetrius, Fred, Arturo, Germ�n, and Dion. Two others played critical roles: Hamish, talented and ruthless enough to be an asset, declined a position on the Board to stay in Santo Domingo and maintain his sideline as a bdsm dom. Dolph, computer whiz, preferred the official status of `consultant', but resided at headquarters with us. All of us were gay � something that just seemed right at the time, and later confirmed by Dolph and Thibaut to have been essential to `the physics'. So what was the fabulous idea that spawned A Lush Theme? The Methuselah Serum. I have a fondness for anagrams (you may have noticed), and `A Lush Theme' is an anagram of `Methuselah'. It took twelve years (yes, twelve), but we accomplished it � a product that could slow down the natural aging of the body. How much? By a factor of twelve. (I tell you, the number is significant). We injected the serum into ourselves on my thirtieth birthday. That was twenty-three years ago. I am now fifty-three years old, with the physical body of a thirty-two-year-old. I will still age, but at one-twelfth the pace of anyone else; should my body expire at what it thinks is the age of eighty, that would be nearly six hundred years from now. All that would stop me from living that long would be an accident or the early onset of some disease. In all of recorded history, there may never have been a medical discovery with a more lucrative market potential than the Methuselah Serum. I was already a billionaire, but this could make me a quadrillionaire. And I could enjoy that wealth for literally centuries. But what effect would it have on the world? Economies of scale deemed it impossible to manufacture in sufficient quantities to offer it universally, dividing the world into a brand new set of haves and have-nots. The have-nots would be up in arms, perhaps literally. According to Dolph's simulations, if we made Methuselah available to less than 75-to-90% of the world's population, the future was bound to be chaotically violent. That was not a world I wanted to live in, nor did I want that on my conscience. However, society was sustainable if we limited distribution to no more than forty: after the Board, Hamish, and Dolph, that allowed twenty-six others. And we had to make some profit on it, didn't we? But we needed to prove that it worked before selling it. Eight years later, our bodies having validated Methuselah's efficacy, I decided to take the corporation public, limiting the shareholders to twelve. Again, twelve. With an investment of half a billion dollars each, shareholders could procure a personal supply of the Methuselah Serum for themselves and a significant other, thus attaining the closest thing to immortality that mankind had ever known. I presented this option to the Board, and was outvoted. If the world could absorb twenty-six doses of Methuselah (in addition to us), then why not have twenty-six shareholders and more than double the money? Of course, that meant only one dose per person, nothing for spouses, children, or mistresses. I gave in, persuading them to pare it down to twenty-four, which at least was a multiple of twelve. We combed the globe for discreet, low-profile multi-billionaires. This sounds like an oxymoron, but it isn't. Our twenty-four shareholders were not household names - not a Bill Gates or Eli Musk among them. Most were from Russia, China, the Middle East, or other parts of Asia. As a condition for receiving the injection, we required absolute confidentiality � they couldn't even tell their wives. We administered periodic polygraphs; the penalty for non-compliance was injection with the antidote, which would not only nullify Methuselah, but actually accelerate aging. (It was a bluff � there was no antidote � but it worked.) The financial obligations were more controversial. In addition to ponying up a half billion up front, they had to maintain a liquid fund which, within twenty-four hours of their deaths, would automatically transfer five billion dollars to a numbered account in the Cayman Islands. This generated pushback, but we pointed out that, as it would be centuries before they died, anyone who might contest the will would be long gone. And we guaranteed a full refund, with interest, if Methuselah did not work. Arranging for all that liquidity was cumbersome, but to postpone death for centuries . . . it was worth it. It got done. In the ten years that followed, they saw for themselves that Methuselah did work, we earned their trust. It was time to leverage that trust into the additional capital we needed to complete The Project, which we had instigated eight years ago. We had, by now, rebranded ourselves into Stimulever, but we kept that knowledge private. Through our superior computer skills, we had purged the world's websites of any reference to "A Lush Theme". Any lawyer trying to sue A Lush Theme would discover it no longer existed, and had no funds; similarly, there was no trace of "Stimulever" anywhere, other than on our secret web browser, Beetscrew (an anagram of 'secret web'). We were a year away from completing Betaworld and installing Hamish in his domain underground. But we needed additional funds in the short term. Without outside input, I would have to dip into my own personal wealth, or ask for an investment from my mother, which I was reluctant to do. Rita was unaware of The Project � or of Methuselah, for that matter � and I preferred to keep her ignorant of both. She had always been supportive of me, but she was nearing eighty now; I feared she would expunge me from her will if she knew I had withheld from her a serum that could have added centuries to her life. On the rare occasions when I visited her, I wore makeup to look older. So it was time to hit the stockholders for more funds. In the past, stockholder meetings were held at a Z�rich hotel. This year, we invited them to Stimulever headquarters, high on our company-owned mountain, only reachable via a private cable car from a point near the town of St. Moritz. Not only is it a secluded location, the spectacular view would knock the socks off the stockholders. The citizens of St. Moritz never learned the true nature of the mysterious building at the end of the cable car they weren't allowed to use. So far as they were concerned, it was a mountain retreat for meditation, relaxation and yoga, called `Dharma Swiss'. A monstrously exclusive resort that was somehow always fully booked when reservations were requested. I addressed the stockholders: - Gentlemen, the Methuselah Serum is only the beginning. For the past ten years, we have been working on a project so immense, so mind-boggling, that it can scarcely be believed. Imagine the most astounding feat of engineering you can conceive of � artificial intelligence, space travel, wireless communication. Compared to The Project, they are like an amoeba compared to a whale. That might even be an understatement. - Living for several hundred years may seem the ultimate dream. But you still have to die eventually. . . . But what if you could live forever? Gentlemen, if The Project is successful, we will have essentially achieved what mankind has dreamed of for all eternity � immortality. I paused for dramatic effect, scanning the audience for the expected skepticism. It was there on some faces � but others, having noted the effects of The Methuselah Serum, knew we were capable of astounding things, and sat there in awe, wondering in their brains if I could possibly be speaking the truth. I could. If The Project succeeded, we could all live forever � and in the process save The Earth from the self-destructive path humanity has set it on by ignoring climate change. - For another half billion from each of you, we can create Betaworld, a complete parallel universe. Now there was widespread skepticism. - (Stockholder A) A parallel universe? Do you think we're idiots? This is not "The Golden Compass." - True, it is not. But we ARE building Betaworld, an alternative universe, and we can show it to you, in part. Guffaws. - (Stockholder B) Are you planning to show us some magic tricks? - In a way. Betaworld will be identical to the so-called real world, which we call Alphaworld, except for a special island which does not exist in Alphaworld. We have already built this island in Betaworld, although it is lacking some of the final details, rather like a house with an unfinished basement. We can't take you there � it's in the Caribbean � so we have also created a Betaworld version of these headquarters and the surrounding area. A guarded reaction. - Take a moment to observe your surroundings. The shape of the room, the d�cor, the view out the glass wall to your right, and remember what the rest of the building looked like when you came through it. . . . Ready? . . . And now . . . I took them into Betaworld. The room, formerly rectangular, was now oval. Blue walls with gold highlights had been replaced by ochre and cocoa. Metal was supplanted by wood. And the view of the snow-draped Alpine peaks vanished in favor of greenery below the tree-line, with flowers in bloom on the grounds immediately outside. - (Stockholder B) Magic tricks. Very impressive. David Blaine could probably do this. It's all light show and mirrors. - Really? Feel the seats you are sitting on. Does that wood feel fake? Do you want to walk around the room and see that it's genuinely oval, with earth tones? Test it out, gentlemen � you have been taken, temporarily, into an alternate universe. We let them explore and fail to find any rational explanation. Then we took them out into the Beta-version of Stimulever headquarters, which now resembled a health spa. Lastly, we took them outside, which, despite the frigid temperatures of Alphaworld, was bathed in sunshine at a balmy twenty-five degrees Celsius. - Go ahead, pick the flowers. They're real. And down below you can see St. Moritz. In Alphaworld, St. Moritz is a ski resort. In Betaworld, people come here because of its remarkable micro-climate � warm in winter � that exists only for a few square kilometers. If you doubt me, go down and ask the townspeople. . . . Oh, you can't. Unfortunately, in Betaworld, there's no cable car. The descent would be a bit treacherous unless you're a well-equipped, world-class rock-climber. They were convinced, especially when I snapped them back into Alphaworld and its sub-zero temperatures. Instantly shivering, they scurried back inside to the rectangular, blue-gold room we had been in and its view of peaks carpeted with snow. Unbeknownst to them, we could only sustain St. Moritz Betaworld for about thirty minutes before it became unstable; we whisked them back to Alphaworld in less than twenty. - Questions, gentlemen? - (Stockholder C) Impressive. But what does this have to do with immortality? - That, my friend, is the key question. Actually, Betaworld is the linchpin of what we call The Project. When we go live, our existence � the world we all know today � will fracture into not two, but a dozen universes. And because of that fracture, aging will slow by a factor of twelve times twelve. Yes, gentleman, in the multiverse, it will take one hundred and forty-four calendar years for your bodies to age by a single year. - (Stockholder D) You said immortality. But we'll still age. And we could be hit by a truck or someone could decide to shoot us. Won't we still die? - Technically, yes. But you'll simply revert back to the same age you are when the Project is launched � four calendar years from now (and four months in biological aging). You will relive your life from that moment forward, unaware that you had ever lived it before, free to make new decisions that will differentiate this new life from the previous one. That truck won't be there anymore. - (Stockholder E) What if I get cancer? I'd have to live with it for decades. I may just want to die. - Then you can euthanize yourself. That life will end. But you'll begin again, as you are now � and you don't want to die now, do you? - (Stockholder F) I want to get back to this multiverse thing. You say the world is going to get fractured into a dozen universes. Which one will I live in? - Every one for which you are compatible, which, since you are heterosexual males, should be nine. - (Stockholder A) You're saying there will be nine of us? Nine versions of me? - Absolutely. But each version of you will be unaware of the existence of the multiverse. You will live each of your lives believing that the world you live in is the only one in existence. - (Stockholder A) But you've just told me differently. I already know there will be multiple versions of me. - You won't remember this conversation. That was true enough. But not for the reasons he was inferring. - (Stockholder G) What about this island you've mentioned? - We consider it our launchpad. It has special qualities. The physics of The Project are too complex to explain � beyond the comprehension of all but perhaps a dozen persons on this planet � three of whom are in this room. Hamish here will be in charge of the island. In four years, a special group of scientifically-selected individuals will arrive there, and set in motion a sequence of events which will trigger the Project. Then Betaworld will disappear, replaced by twelve distinct universes which will remain independent. - (Stockholder G) What if it doesn't work? - It will. (I hope.) - (Stockholder G) But if it doesn't? - We'll refund the money that you pay us today. You'll still have your Methuselah and live for hundreds of years, unless you are hit by that proverbial truck. - (Stockholder B) I want to know more about these universes. Why so many? To extend life a hundred forty-four times seems unnecessary, if we can regenerate at will. - Again, it's the physics. It won't work with only three or four � or even eleven. Has to be twelve. - (Stockholder B) You say that we would live in only nine of them. Why not all twelve, and are they all the same but just twelve of them? - Each of the twelve universes will be distinct. You wouldn't be suited for all twelve. - (Stockholder B) But you haven't built any of them yet. - It's all in the programming. They are being coded to spring into existence when The Project is launched. We don't need to build them separately � just Betaworld, our launchpad. It went on like that for a while. They wanted to know the details of the twelve universes, which I was not about to share. The stockholders had to settle for my assurances that we wouldn't subject them to any universe they would find inhospitable. I didn't tell them that each universe had been built to general specifications designed by one of the twelve Board members, who would have the power to alter the basic parameters of the planet (though not to control events in any individuals' lives). Descriptions of a couple of them � Ari's and Simon's � would sound scary, although those living there would find conditions perfectly natural. To mollify them, I shared the characteristics for the replacement of the existing universe, Alphaworld 2.0 (which I would rule over, though I withheld that bit of information from them). The transition to the revised version of the planet would be transparent to its current population, and the `new' world would reverse climate change, reduce poverty, facilitate food distribution, and otherwise improve living conditions across the globe. Nothing too drastic � conflict would still exist, as would hurricanes and disease, but preventable suffering would diminish. There was another reason I didn't want to describe the individual universes in that room, with the other Board members present. Due to an imbalance, we needed to build a thirteenth universe � a rather disappointing one � and jettison one of the planned twelve. The dream of one of the Board members would have to be shattered, his fantasy domain replaced by this boring substitute. The Board didn't know about this yet; Dolph had brought this development to me, not even telling Thibaut. He proposed we program all thirteen, and then delete one later, when it was decided which world should be sacrificed. While the stockholders were clearly intrigued, I could see some reluctance to fork over an extra half-billion. Couldn't I fund this without their assistance? After all, I was a billionaire myself. As was my mother in her own right. So I had to sweeten the deal � I promised them each an extra dose of the Methuselah Serum, which would keep their wives (or . . . ) around for centuries, even if The Project failed. And they all signed on, one after the other, like lemmings following each other into the sea. Lemmings? Yes, lemmings. This was a promise which could not be fulfilled � it would release more doses into the world than would be safe � not only would it ruin future-Alphaworld, it would wreak havoc with several other universes in The Project. That was of little concern to me. These men already knew too much. We couldn't risk news of The Project reaching beyond a tightly-held group. What if the press got hold of it? It was a shame that the cable car crashed on their return to St. Moritz � twenty-four casualties, all fatal. It made headlines the world over. There was an investigation, of course, for which we were well-prepared. It focused on the structural capacities of the cable car (our documentation assigned its construction and all maintenance obligations to a mythical German company), and we communicated with the investigators electronically so that they never needed to visit Stimulever headquarters directly. They fixated on the fictitious German company and never questioned that the victims were attending yoga and meditation seminars at a mountain retreat named Dharma Swiss. The word `Stimulever' never appeared in the news media or in any police report. The silver lining was, of course, that due to the provisions in their will, Stimulever collected over a hundred billion dollars. Billions more than we needed, but enough to fund the ongoing operations of a dozen parallel universes for centuries. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR � INTO THE WOODS]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-20	Date: Mon, 18 Mar 2024 14:43:11 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 20 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER 20: NEW ARRIVALS Previously, at the Phallic Tower: * Seth, knowing that dodecagons have been capturing guys on their birthday, vows to protect Dai, whose birthday is approaching. * Jasper resolves to get to know Gary, the shy, least-appearing persona of the three identities who inhabit his mind. In Aruba: * As Jordan's life is in danger from Stimulever, Sean transfers him and Miles to the parallel universe Betaworld; he says he will take them to the island. ZTA and the island do not exist in the real world (`Alphaworld') and memory of Flight 12 passengers has been erased there. Underground: * Ian, falling in love with Stan, learns that Stan is to be castrated on December 11th. Expressing a desire to return to Cleveland, he notes that Percy can exit to the surface via an `Egress Room' with a passcode. * Newly-arrived Lucas is reunited with Stefan, his Alphaworld partner in crime (literally), now a Hamish lieutenant; they `tag-team' captives Paul and Leo. In flashbacks: * A week before the trip to Aruba, Abe turns down Seth's invitation to a Pearl Jam concert in order to sleep with Sean O'Hara, whom he doesn't realize is the same Sean who played a role in Seth's past. However, he realizes that Seth's relationship with this `Sean' has troubled him greatly, somehow. * * * * * * * * THURSDAY, DECEMBER 6 * * * * * * * * AT THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH I had two missions. The first and foremost, as always, was to find Abe and figure out a way off this island. The second, more immediate mission, was to protect Dai. Tomorrow was his birthday. Paul, Leo, and Lucas had all disappeared on their birthdays; at least two of them had been swallowed into the earth by a dodecagon; I had to prevent this from happening to Dai. I had the feeling that these two goals were connected. If we could keep the island from swallowing up Dai on his seemingly fore-ordained date, maybe it would break the spell and release Abe from whatever kind of captivity he was in. And maybe it would free us all from this isolated place, not known on any map, and over which no aircraft had flown to spot Abe's HELP sign. THE DORMITORY � LEO The three of us looked uncomfortably at each other. There were a dozen beds in the room � which seemed ominous � and Lucas had chosen one next to mine. My plan was, when lights went out, to quietly get up and move to an empty bed far away from him, near Paul. Safety in numbers � relative safety, anyway. The lights were extinguished. I planned to wait two minutes to make my move. One minute too late. I didn't hear him coming � I just felt a massive weight on top of my body. Lucas grabbed my arms and straddled my hips; he leaned down and forced his mouth onto mine. When he lifted his head, I couldn't see the expression on his face � there was absolutely no light in the room � but I could only imagine it was dominated by an arrogant grin. - Turn over, Britboy. Missionary style's not my thing. - Lucas, get off me. - No way. I have the right to do you, kid, and do you I shall. He grabbed my waist, twisting my body so that it was on my side. He outweighed me by a good forty pounds, and it wasn't fat. It didn't take long for him to have me completely on my stomach, ready for his rampaging tool. - Paul! Paul � help me! - (Lucas) Paul, it's either him or you but I'm going to have my fuck. If you want to take his place, come and help him. I'll knock Leo into dreamland and poke your ass instead. I heard a thump, a sound of flesh against flesh as Lucas grunted and then I heard him pushing Paul away. - (Paul) Lucas, leave him alone. This isn't right. - (Lucas) Haven't you heard the expression, Jockstrap? Might makes right. - (Paul) . . . I'm sorry, Leo, but I can't stop him. He's bigger than either of us. - (Lucas) And I've got the biggest cock. Get ready for it, Leo. A moment later he shoved it through my anus. I yelled. By now, this was not a novel experience, but I still hated it every time. Lucas was a brutal fucker and every thrust was a reminder of both how helpless I was and how humiliating it was to be on the receiving end of an unforgiving cock. - (Lucas, as he plowed away at my butt) Listen, boys, this is my house, and I can have your asses whenever I want. And that goes when Dai gets here, too. - (Paul) Dai? - (Lucas) It's his birthday tomorrow. He'll be here. - (Paul) Don't you dare touch Dai! - (Lucas) Or what, Jockstrap? You'll do exactly what? Paul had no answer for that, of course. But I resolved right then and there: I'm going to get allies. I'm going to form an army. We're going to rebel. I'm not about to lie here and take this. Not indefinitely. Not even for another week. I'll find a way out of here. Or die trying. THE DORMITORY � PAUL Omigod, Dai, please no. I was going through enough mixed feelings � being reunited with Anthony, being the pussy boy of any lieutenant who wanted to do me, even getting hammered twice by Hamish himself. And `play sessions' that left me with visible marks and sore balls, although, strangely, I was always fine the next morning. And now Lucas � a fellow captive!� acting like one of THEM, using the two of us at will. Not to mention this stupid jockstrap I can't remove. I could take it. I even kinda like the feeling of the strap whacking my butt. But Dai � what's going on there? I know that I want him, I know I feel a special connection with him and that maybe � MAYBE � he feels something for me, too? But I'm not even a hundred percent sure he's gay. Please, don't let Dai come here. Don't put him through what Leo and I are going through. * * * * * * * * FRIDAY, DECEMBER 7 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � JASPER I had been dreaming, as I always did, about sex. In my dream I was having sex with a snake. I felt it crawling up my ass, plunging into my hole, and then slipping out and slithering around to my crotch, swallowing my erect cock into its mouth and milking me dry. I ejaculated. A wet dream, at my age! Embarrassed, I woke up, grabbed my shirt and cleaned myself off. I would volunteer for laundry duty today so that I could wash it; if it was a warm enough day, I could go shirtless, claiming it was more comfortable. I noticed how light it was in the tower, like the sun had been up for a while. I looked at my watch. It was past 10:00. How did that happen? Before, we'd always awakened at first light. And now it was mid-to-late morning and everyone was still asleep? Almost everyone. I saw a pair of eyes observing me. At first I thought it was Ray, watching my ejaculation. But from the astonished look on his face, I knew it was Gary. Gary, whom I was determined to get to know better. Shy, timid Gary. - It's all right, Jasper. I won't tell anyone. I guess � I guess we all have needs. Even I have needs, though Ray � Ray, he sometimes steals them from me. - Are you gay, Gary? - . . . Yes. I . . . I am. I'm not like Ray, though. He's so aggressive, I . . . I'm not like that. I . . . I'm like the opposite. - Are you saying you prefer the passive role? - . . . Is that bad? Does that make me weak, Jasper? - No, of course not. - Is it a bad thing that I want . . . I don't even know how to say this . . . but I'm here with all these guys and sometimes I want one of them to . . . do stuff to me. But then Cody takes over. He doesn't like it when I'm thinking about sex. - Ray doesn't seem to mind. - Jasper? . . . I'm not here all the time. Do the guys have sex with each other? It seems like everyone is gay. Except Augie and Ed. - I think they're gay, too � or at least bisexual, and just haven't sorted it out yet. But, no, guys don't have sex with each other. Although . . . - Although? - The island seems to want us to. Gary, I have a hard time resisting having sex. I . . . I love sex. I can't stand not having sex. But I have to abstain, I've got to get over wanting it all the time. Have you ever � you, not Ray � have you ever had sex? The kind of sex you want? Being on the bottom? - . . . I don't want to talk about that. - Okay. But you'd like to, right? - . . . I . . . I was kinda thinking about . . . He stopped, and suddenly looked across the room. - What? What is it, Gary? - I just noticed. And then I noticed it, too. I'd been so absorbed in the embarrassment of my wet dream and trying to draw Gary out of his shell that I had not taken in my surroundings, or taken inventory of the sleeping bodies. Dai was gone. NEAR THE PHALLIC TOWER � DAI (three hours earlier) December 7th. My birthday WOULD have to be on December 7th. Every year, I get teased about it. "Hey, Dai, you going to bomb us today?" Or, among my gay friends, jokes about harboring a pair of pearls under my dick. And then they'd always have to explain the joke: `Get it? Harboring pearls? Pearl Harbor?" Yeah, I get it. No American of Japanese descent should be allowed to be born on December 7th � there should be a law. If it happens, make the doctors change the date on the birth certificate. It's the crack of dawn, and everyone else is sound asleep. I need to piss, and don't want to wake anyone for an escort, even though today is my `danger' day. However, there is no dodecagon where I normally go to relieve myself, so it will be safe. Of course, my balls have gotten full and I need release, so I will take care of that at the same time. I rose carefully and slipped out of the tower, careful not to disturb anyone, and went around back to Dai's Personal Latrine and Masturbation Spot. I had just dropped my trousers when I saw it. It was orange, which confused me, as Harry had reported seeing the orange dodecagon far from the tower. I'd been to this location many times, and there was no dodecagon here. Yet now there was. It was stunning. I stood there for a moment in awe of it. I stepped out of my trousers completely and shed my shoes, my only other item of clothing. I knew it wanted me naked, and I wanted to be naked on it. In the corner there was a large orange phallus, taller than me. I stood before it and knew what had to be done � it needed to be anointed, it craved my sperm. I took cock in hand and stroked it firmly, harder and harder, feeling an intensity greater than ever before. The tingling in my penis was so great I could hardly stand it. The pressure was building all up and down my shaft; I knew that when I came, it would be the most voluminous ever. I panted, harder and harder, as the tension became unbearable. I felt like shouting, "I'm going to come!", but there was no one to shout it to except the phallus. Then, in perhaps the most ecstatic moment of my life, I shot my load. I shot loads of loads. It was a modern day miracle. My jism kept spewing out of my cock � spurt after spurt � five, ten, fifteen, twenty, thirty, fifty, seventy-five times. The ejaculation lasted for nearly two minutes; my milky white discharge was covering the orange phallus. The entire surface was coated with my output, drizzling down the side from the glans to the base on the dodecagon floor. I wanted to hug the phallus, to coat my bare body in my own jizm. I stepped forward to embrace the cum-covered organ and lap it up with my tongue. But before my tongue could touch the magnificent member, my feet sank into the dodecagon floor and spread apart. Something slithered up my legs and penetrated my ass and started to fuck me � at least, that's what it felt like. Briefly, I saw the image of a horse beneath me. Then the floor collapsed and I fell into the void below. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH (three hours later) - (Harry) He's gone? You're telling me Dai just disappeared? - (Jasper) That's what I'm telling you. - (Gary) You think the little nip got drilled by the dodecagon? He should have come to me, I'd have done it for him. - (Jasper) . . . Ray? - (Ray) Yeah, what? - (Jasper, to me) I swear, he was Gary a minute ago. It was Gary who discovered Dai was missing. - (Ray) Shee-it. Something fun happens and that wuss Gary gets to witness it? Ray's contributions to the conversation wouldn't be helpful, so we moved outside. Later we concluded that Gary had been freaked out by Jasper's panic over Dai's disappearance and his immediate decision to wake me and Harry. I was surprised that Ray emerged rather than asexual Cody, but perhaps the image of Dai being raped by air turned on his Ray personality. I wish to hell I could figure this guy out. - So did he wander off of his own volition or . . . did they take him from inside the tower? - (Harry) How could they take him from inside the tower without coming in? - They took my clothes � and Paul's � from inside the tower. And I can't believe Dai would go out on his birthday without an escort. - (Jasper) We all slept hours longer than normal. That doesn't seem like a coincidence. - You think we were so sound asleep that we didn't hear anyone enter the tower and abduct him? - (Harry) Maybe Dai felt the call of nature early and felt it was safe to go to a familiar place. - Or maybe he's doing that now and hasn't come back yet. - (Harry) I've seen him take off toward the northwest sometimes � but close to the tower, not near any dodecagons. - Don't forget I saw a dodecagon where there hadn't been one before. The one that got Lucas, apparently. - (Jasper) You think they can move? - I don't know what to think. But let's go look for Dai. Stay together. On our search, we saw nothing. But we heard something - something unexpected, something that was music to my ears: the unmistakable wop-wop of a helicopter flying overhead. A helicopter! A fucking helicopter! Hallelujah! We looked up and through the gaps in the trees saw a shape, a shadow passing over us, heading toward the south, toward the tower and beyond. We rushed back to the phallic tower, where the sky was not obscured by the trees, but by the time we got there, the helicopter was no longer in sight. But my spirits were raised: something � some person or persons � had come to the island. But were they here to rescue us � or to do harm? THE THRONE ROOM � IAN - Percy, could I talk to you a moment? He looked at me suspiciously. Lieutenants didn't usually approach him like that, and he could tell I wanted to ask him for a favor. He gave me a cool gaze, and then nodded: What was the point of saying `no'? - I heard something about the left-siders. That there's a schedule and they get � - Castrated? Yes, they do. Otherwise, we're out of balance. There's only a certain number of testicles we can have down here � go over the limit for more than a day or so and it throws off the physics. - The physics? - Nothing you would understand. Nothing I understand, frankly. It's the way things work. We have to empty some scrota. - Okay, but there's some kind of schedule about who goes when? - What of it? - Is that . . . negotiable? At this point, the worst possible thing happened: Hamish entered the room. The last sentence I had uttered piqued his interest. - (Hamish) Is what negotiable, Ian? - (Percy) Ian wants to change the castration schedule. - (Hamish) Ha! Too late. Omi arrived this morning � another of The Twelve. If you're trying to spare Antonopoulos, forget it. He's been shaved, he'll be cut soon. - I don't care about Antonopoulos. I don't even know him. But Kowalczyk. My cellmate. Barry told me he's slated for the 11th. - (Hamish) Barry talks too fucking much. - Can you do someone else instead? - (Percy) Growing overly fond of him, Ian? - I don't know about `overly'. - (Percy) He's going to have to lose them sometime, Ian. You should accept that. - Maybe . . . maybe the physics is wrong. - (Hamish) What the fuck do you know about the physics? Nothing. Don't tell us the physics is wrong. - (Percy) There are guys in Switzerland � they've got this all figured out. The world's smartest brains. His balls will have to go. - Well, at least postpone it. Move someone else up in his place. - (Hamish) Well, I suppose there is a way we could spare Kowalczyk's balls. After all, it's just a numbers game. It doesn't really matter whose balls come off, as long as somebody's do. - Yeah. Right. That's what I mean about the physics. You could � - (Hamish) Yours, for instance. - . . . What? - (Hamish) Your balls would do just fine. That way, we could spare Kowalczyk. We'll slate you for the eleventh, shall we? Let me get my tablet. - No, Sir, that's not what I meant. - (Hamish) You have some cheek, coming in here and asking for a favor like that. I'm not a hundred percent certain you're loyal to me, Ian. - I'm loyal, sir. I swear to you. - (Hamish) Prove it. - How? - (Hamish) That's up to you. Consider this a loyalty test. Do something that impresses me, that demonstrates your loyalty, and I'll spare your balls. - . . . And Stan's? - (Hamish) Oh, it's `Stan' now, is it? First name basis. Yes, overly familiar. No, in four days, one of you loses his balls � him or you. Just then, Barry dashed into the room into a dither. - (Hamish) Boy! What are you doing entering the room like that? Get down on all fours like a good dog. - (Barry, after complying) Sir, I � - (Hamish) `Master.' - (Barry) Master, Alec sent me here with an important message. - (Hamish) Well, get on with it, boy. - (Barry) One of the sensors detected something. On the south end of the island. Vibrations, he said. - (Percy) Could have been a tree branch falling, shaking the ground. - (Hamish) Do tree branches fall in this place? More likely, it's something � or someone � being where it's not supposed to be. THE ISLAND � JORDAN Sean had promised to take us to the island, where we could reunite with Vic and Augie. While this filled me with considerable anxiety � Augie, after all, thought I was female � I wanted the moment to come as soon as possible. I needed to see him with my own eyes. I needed to be sure Sean wasn't bullshitting us. Miles said he trusted Sean, while seeming less enthusiastic about reuniting with Vic, for reasons unclear to me. I was still reeling from the concept of being in a parallel universe, but I couldn't deny that once we made the `switch', news of Flight 12's disappearance was suddenly everywhere, from the local papers to the international press to cable networks like CNN. Even Fox covered it, though they were focusing on the scandalous sexual history of the pilot Barry Russell, as if his kinkiness had caused the plane to crash. Sean himself was vague as to what actually happened to Flight 12; he just said that all the passengers were on an island that existed only in Betaworld, without explaining why or how. He promised us that Augie and Vic were alive and well, and that we would see for ourselves what was going on. He then took us to the airport, where we boarded a helicopter, not a plane. We must have arrived at the island around eleven in the morning. We flew a circuitous route, approaching the island from the north, and flew southward, eventually following the west coast of the island. Looking out, I saw that someone had made a giant `HELP' sign on the beach � not very reassuring. I saw some flashes of bright color, but couldn't identify them. Sean eventually set the whirlybird down at the island's south end. He jumped out, taking with him a small shovel I hadn't noticed during the flight, and headed immediately for a spot at the base of a tree. He dug there until he uncovered a device about the size of an alarm clock, and started tinkering with it. All the while, he talked to us, rapidly. - (Sean) Be careful. There are people here who may be looking for you. And I don't mean Augie and Vic and their fellow passengers. - What? Who are they? Are they dangerous? - (Miles) Are they with Stimulever? - (Sean) They're with Stimulever. They may be dangerous. This device probably detected our arrival. They may send someone to investigate, but I'm disabling it so it will look like it malfunctioned. They're not nearby; by the time they get here, I'll be long gone, and you should be, too. - What do you mean, you'll be long gone? You're leaving us? - (Sean) They're expecting me in Switzerland. - (Miles) You're just dumping us here? - You're not taking us to Augie? - (Sean) He's somewhere on this island, they both are. They all are. I don't know exactly where, I can't lead you to them. You can find them just as well without me. - And then what? Are you coming back to take us off the island? - (Sean) When it's safe for you back in Alphaworld. Trust me, this will work out. You don't need me here. Besides, you have a better chance of remaining undiscovered if there's no hulking helicopter on the island. I need to fly it out of here. That last bit, at least, sounded logical. But I still felt betrayed by Sean's impending departure. - (Sean) Head north via the east side of the island; it's safer. But stick to the woods. Avoid the beach. Avoid open areas. - Fuck, Sean. You said you were taking us here to be safe. You said Stimulever wanted us dead, and that if we went to Betaworld no one would remember us in Alphaworld, so they wouldn't bother us. - (Sean) That's not exactly what I said. You're not completely safe in Betaworld, either. You just have to avoid getting caught. - (Miles) What happens if we're caught? - (Sean) Nothing good. So if you see people, don't rush out to greet them. Stay out of sight, keep calm, see who they are. - How would we know who they are? - (Sean) If you recognize them from the plane, they're okay to approach. But anyone you don't know, stay quiet and hide. - (Miles) Recognize them from the plane? I wasn't on the plane! I don't know anyone other than Vic. Aside from Augie, I did remember a few Flight 12 passengers from the airport on Grand Turk. There was a gorgeous hunk who was with a smaller, dark-haired guy who was reading a kindle. They were sitting near a heavyset guy, I think I'd remember his face. And there was an older man who said he was a British knight. The rest. . . well, I wasn't exactly paying close attention to people I never expected to see again. By now, Sean had finished manipulating the not-an-alarm-clock, and had reburied it. - Look, I have to get out of here now. They see a helicopter, we're all dead. Start moving, get away as quickly as you can, don't make noise and stay under cover. And then he hopped into the helicopter and flew directly off the south end of the island. Leaving me feeling nervous and betrayed. Miles and I moved quickly, but cautiously and silently. For the rest of the day we advanced slowly northwards, pausing after every step to make sure we weren't making noise. By the time nightfall came, we had to hunker down in the woods. And there was no sign of anyone else. Miles kept telling me to trust Sean, but what if he had lied? What if Augie and Vic were nowhere on this island? Sean said he was supposed to `neutralize' us � what if he was doing just that, leaving us here to die? AN UNDERGROUND HALLWAY � IAN Upon hearing that a sensor had detected something on the south end of the island, Hamish ordered Percy to `investigate'. He ordered me to leave. I saw something of an opportunity. Percy would go to the Egress Room. If I was stealthy enough, maybe I could capture the keycode that gained access to the room. And then I could use that as an escape route myself. And take Stan with me. I hid behind the door to the Dark Room, currently inhabited by Daisuke Omi, the new arrival. Seeing a burst of light violating the pitch black environment, he called out `Who's there?", then "Help me! I can't move." True, you can't � and there's a dildo up your ass. I empathize, but I'm on a surveillance mission. Sorry. Percy headed down a corridor that housed the well-equipped playrooms used for disciplining bottoms. I followed him, making no sound, opened the door to a Fuck Room and slipped inside. Fortunately, it was empty; no fellow lieutenant snapped at me for barging in on his sex session. Percy, perhaps hearing the door open. glanced around, but by then I was out of sight, peering through a tiny crack in the ajar door. There was a keypad next to the door. Percy punched in a series of numbers, then swore, as the door refused to open. He then scolded himself. - Percy, you idiot, think! It's the 7th, it's the ODD number code: 1-3-8, 5-7-0, 9-1-2, 3-5-4. I've always been good with numbers. I saw the pattern immediately. Four groups of three, twelve in total, (twelve was everywhere down here). The first two numbers in each group were the odd numbers in succession: 1-3, 5-7, 9-1, and 3-5, dropping the first digit when things got over ten. The last digit in each group was the number that added to twelve: 1+ 3 + 8 = 12, etc. Easily memorized. Plus the last five numbers were just 1-2-3-4-5 with the last two digits switched. `The odd number code' because today was the seventh � an odd number. Which meant it would be good on the ninth or the eleventh � by which time I needed to make my escape. The door opened; I caught a glimpse of a pole in a tiny room barely the size of a closet. Percy didn't bother to close the door, it swung itself shut � but slowly enough that I could see Percy grab the pole, push a nearby button and ascend. What made the moment truly startling was that I was not Percy's only observer. A split-second after Percy had gained access to the Egress Room, a captive emerged from another of the Fuck Rooms, the one operated by Atticus, one of the nastier lieutenants. I recognized him � it was the red-headed kid, Leo, whose father was Sir Something. Leo looked on in amazement; he must have seen the pole before the door shut completely. - (Leo, unaware that anyone could hear him) Holy shit. There's a way out of here. So Leo knew the way out as well as I did. Maybe I could use this to my advantage. And save Stan. A HALLWAY / SPECIAL ROOM A � LUCAS - Stef? Hi, what's up? - Come with me. I've got a special treat for you. Usually, Alec does this, but Hamish is impressed by you and is rewarding you by giving me the honor. - Can you be a little less mysterious? - Just follow me. We entered a room in what I considered the `torture wing' of the underground. I had been brought here daily � and undergone some mild floggings. Alfonso, whose specialty seemed to be enemas, gave me a rather painful one � I wasn't sure what was in it, but it was more than just water. But, in general, my treatment in this corridor was far less rigorous than what was inflicted on Leo or Paul or any of the left-siders. One of those left-siders was stretched out on a table before us. His name was Yiannis Antonopoulos. He had been seated across from me on Flight 12, a tall man in his early twenties, built like a swimmer. Swimmers, I knew, often shaved their bodies to reduce resistance in the water, and Yiannis was smooth as a sheet of ice, even right down to his exposed genitals. I like seeing a boy with no bush, one of the reasons that in Chicago I always shaved the boys I had sex with, whether they wound up on the barbecue spit or just my overnight guest for a bit of the old in-out. Ropes, tied around his ankles and wrists, stretched from the table to knobs protruding from the walls, designed expressly for the purpose of spread-eagling the unfortunate inhabitant of this table. Yiannis lay face up, his ass flat against the table � which meant that I couldn't fuck him. Raping his mouth was also out of the question � it was full of a ball-gag. A second person in the room was tied into a chair in the corner. He was on the plane, too, at the front of the left side � and directly across from Fearless Leader Seth. I was quite certain he was Seth's boyfriend, the one he went traipsing off in the woods to search for. How I would love a piece of HIS ass. If we untied him . . . Stefan noticed me savoring the prospect, both by looking at my face and by looking at my cock. - Not that one, that's Derisian, he's untouchable. Percy's keeping him for himself. - What's he here for, then? - To observe. He's a left-sider, yeah? Derisian's here to be reminded of what happens to left-siders. - What happens to left-siders? - They lose their balls. A cry of protest emanated from the throat of the shaved young man stretched out on the table. Stefan snorted, laughing both in sympathy and in contempt. - Sorry, pal, but it's the rules. Every time one of the right-siders comes down here, one of you left-siders has to get gelded. Makes no sense to me, but one thing I've learned down here is you don't question what Hamish says, you just do it. Another attempt at dissuading Stefan, inarticulately expressed. I felt certain that more than the ball-gag had been inserted in Yiannis' mouth; when my boys are wearing ball-gags, they can usually still make themselves understood. - Now, I know you have lots of questions. First of all, you won't bleed to death � we'll cauterize the wound. Second, I know you've been through a lot of bad-ass torture sessions � men do like to have fun � and you always wake up the next morning feeling fine, as if you'd never been touched. I looked into Yiannis' eyes, and saw hope. - So you're wondering, when I wake up tomorrow, will my balls be back? And the answer to that is . . . nope! Severed body parts don't self-repair unless they're inside you. We're taking your balls, and they're gone for good. But don't worry � you won't have to live life as a eunuch for very long. Oh, god, was this hot. I was stiff as a board. SPECIAL ROOM A � ABE Percy had told me I was special. Percy had told me I was getting special treatment. I was getting fucked three times a day � twice by Percy and once by Hamish himself. I knew they were also fucking others and didn't understand how they had the stamina to do it. But I also knew that there was a sexual energy about this island that caused normal biology to go out the window. I myself was hard a lot of the time � but not allowed to get my rocks off � or even touch myself. I was also special, I was told, because I was spared what the others had been subjected to. Barry would give me details � balls crushed in a vice, hot wax dripped over naked skin, bones shattered, teeth knocked out � and the next morning the victims were always fine, uninjured, as if this had never happened. Teeth could even regrow if they were planted inside the body overnight. Thinking about them, and watching this guy Yiannis, my emotions were swirling. First among them, obviously, was empathy, feeling the pain without feeling the actual pain. Second was rage, furious that these men considered the mistreatment of the human body as sport. And third � or maybe even first � was guilt. I was being spared this experience, except vicariously. I was exempted � for what reason I didn't know except that I was `special'. I knew I was special because of Seth. But I didn't understand what Seth had to do with anything. I'm not going into detail about what I witnessed in that room. Stefan took a knife and slowly, painstakingly severed that young man's testicles. After the other guy � I heard the name `Lucas' � cauterized the wound, they flipped him over onto his stomach and gleefully sodomized him. This sequence of events, Percy had told me, would eventually happen to everyone from the plane's left side. - Including me? - You'll get the answer to that question after Herrick gets here. FLASHBACK � ABE (CLEVELAND) � Saturday, November 24, this year (two weeks ago) I stayed over at Sean's for breakfast, and got home just before Seth called me. - Hey, babe. - Good morning. How was Pearl Jam? - Great. Too bad your taste in music is so misguided that you fail to appreciate their genius. - I'll have to live with that. - What did you do last night? I tried to break up with the guy I've been cheating on you with, and failed. Instead, I let him tie me up with rope and plow the shit out of me. - Nothing. Watched TCM. Read a little. - Proust? - Oh, come on, Seth. I do read for light entertainment. Just finished an Agatha Christie � And Then There Were None. About ten people on an island who, one by one � - You're not going to tell me the entire plot, are you? - Uh, no, I guess not. - Abe? . . . Are we okay? - What do you mean `okay'? - Like � are we solid? Other than the fact that I've been seeing a guy behind your back, you mean? - Sure, we're solid. Why wouldn't we be? - I just feel like . . . like . . . I don't know, I just feel like . . . this is going to sound terrible, but I just get this sense that there's something you're not telling me. Like you have a secret. - No one tells their lover everything, Seth. It keeps the mystery in the relationship. - Are you serious? - (smiling) Not really. But . . . well, since you brought it up. I'm not the only one who hasn't disclosed everything about their past. - I've . . . I've shared my past. I haven't hid my past boyfriends. - Not the more recent ones, no. The ones since Sean. - . . . Yeah, okay. Fair enough. - You never really told me what that was about. Are you still in love with him? - Well, you know what they say, you never really get over your first love. - So, yes. - . . . In a way, Abe. But it's a memory, it's in the past. I'm with you now, and that's all I care about. - He hurt you. - He didn't mean to. In fact, he really did nothing wrong. . . . I . . . I'm the one who hurt me. - . . . Seth, whoa. Are you � are you crying? - . . . - Seth? What happened? - . . . - Seth? Listen, you can tell me, it's okay. - It's not okay. I don't think it will ever be okay. - . . . Do you want to tell me about it? - No. No, Abe, I'm sorry, I don't. I'm just not . . . ready yet. - Seth, it seems like it was a while ago. Years, right? - Yeah, years. - So when will you be ready to tell me about it? - . . . I'm not sure that I ever will. - Okay. At least take one small step. Maybe you need to deal with this incrementally. Just tell me his name. His full name. - Sean's name? - Yeah. - . . . No. I don't ever want to say his name again. I looked into his eyes and saw how wounded he was. I wasn't going to force it. As long as the guy's name wasn't O'Hara, everything would be fine. And what were the chances of that? BETWEEN THE ISLAND AND ARUBA � SEAN I had deliberately left them off at a point far away from the Phallic Tower, where I knew the others would be gathered, including Augie and Vic. I had deactivated the sensor, but before I did, Hamish might have detected the arrival. And he might very well send a delegation up to intercept Jordan and Miles. If he caught them, I could live with it. Their presence on the island, I was confident, would disrupt the physics. It might not blow up The Project, but it would alter the calculations. Jes�s and crew would have to recalibrate and make some adjustments � what would be necessary now to trigger the Event? And maybe they'd get it wrong. But I knew that this, in itself, would not be enough to destroy The Project. And destroying The Project was what I was intent on doing. And, when it was destroyed, I, Sean O'Hara, was going to take Mr. Lee Seth Herrick home with me. And make him my slave for the rest of his life. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE � DISRUPTIONS]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-10	Date: Sat, 17 Feb 2024 19:27:29 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 10 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER TEN: HARRY EXPOSED Previously, at the Phallic Tower: * Seth reads a note assuring him he is alive and on planet earth, and that he alone can get the group off the island � but to do so he must stay naked. When he reads the note, the door � whose handle had mysteriously vanished overnight � springs open. * Paul awakens to discover his clothes were also missing � replaced by a jockstrap he had not been wearing previously. In flashbacks: * A teenage Harry goes on Grindr and finds a sympathetic soul � until he posts his picture and is ridiculed because of his weight. He resolves to remain in the closet. * A teenage Paul loses his virginity to his classmate Anthony while wearing a jockstrap. * * * * * * * * SUNDAY, DECEMBER 2 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER - HARRY The sound of the door opening had awakened most of the others. Or, more likely, it was my shouting `Hallelujah!' that did it. After being locked in all night, everyone was anxious to find some biological relief, and poured out the door. Paul was distressed that his clothes had vanished, but I told him not to worry. Amongst all of us, there should be enough to share. A grateful Paul exited the tower, leaving only myself and Seth inside. I had to go, too, but was distracted by the other phenomenon, visible only now that the floor was no longer covered by sleeping men. - (Seth) What the hell? - I believe you meant to say `What the fuck?' - That too. Toward the outer edge of the polygon, there was now a set of black lines crossing each segment, parallel to the edge, almost like a hem on a pair of trousers except that it was about eight inches wide. They set off little trapezoids, with one base about six feet long on the outer edge and the other a bit shorter on the inner edge. Within each trapezoid was a number, prominently displayed in white. - Those weren't there last night. - No. - Twelve numbers. One per wedge. - But not in order. - 1, 29, 7, 3, 31, 17, . . . what could they mean, Harry? - Other than 1, they're all prime numbers. - Yes? - 1 is not a prime number, but it has no factors other than itself. Otherwise, these are the first eleven primes: 2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19, 23, 29, 31. - But why these numbers? Why not one through twelve? Why prime numbers? - That's one question. Another is why 1 and not 37, which is the twelfth prime number. - And why they're not in order. - That's a third question. - Thought you needed a call of nature, Harry. - I do. But it will wait a few more minutes. I want to think about prime numbers. I also didn't want to use the outdoor `loo' while everyone else was there. Yeah, two weeks shy of my twenty-eighth birthday, I was still self-conscious about exposing my body. With good reason. FLASHBACK � HARRY (A COLLEGE CAMPUS) � January, nine years ago In the interests of protecting the institution, I won't name it. It was a small liberal arts college with solid academics in a rural setting. That's all you get. I loved college. And I hated it. What I loved were the weekdays. The classes, the exchange of ideas, the books that opened my eyes to new worlds. To be exposed to the giants of philosophy, of literature, of history, of science, of mathematics, of art and music � I absorbed it like a sponge. I felt like a nine-year-old Leonardo da Vinci, eager to learn, feeling like I could go into a half-dozen different worlds and excel at them. I wouldn't compare myself to a Leonardo older than nine, he knew too much. What I hated were the weekends. My dormitory was populated by hot-blooded heterosexual males, full of braggadocio about sexual conquests past and future, armed with rude, crude, and cruel jokes, suffused with barely-disguised homophobia (and undisguised homophobia), anxious to demonstrate to the world that they knew how to use what was in their pants. At least my roommate Josh was a nice person. Without my telling him, he knew I was gay, and I think he felt sorry for me in my shyness. On a typical Saturday night, he would go out on a date. - Hey, have a good time. - Yeah, Harry, why am I the only one doing this? - You know why. - Gay guys date. - Cute gay guys date. Cute gay guys date other cute gay guys. - So are you just going to spend every Saturday night studying? - Beats humiliation. Who's the lucky lady tonight? - Mia Verdansky. (Pulling a condom out of his pocket) Want one? - I don't think I'll be needing it, thank you. - Well if you just sit there on your ass every week, that's true. You won't be needing it. He'd leave for his date and I'd curl up on the bed and cry. Given the college's rural setting, most of its social life lay in its fraternities and sororities. January was pledge time, but the fraternities started recruiting in December. They'd hold open houses and dances and you could go and check out the various fraternities, and express interest, see which ones you liked, and which ones liked you. Josh was almost certain to join Sigma Nu Beta. I was horrified at his choice, but it was understandable. His brother, a senior, was a `SNB' (appropriately pronounced `Snob'), so Josh was assured of acceptance. SNB's were arrogant, privileged, and notorious for their rude behavior in wild drunken parties, exhibiting a general disrespect for the female sex they so professed to admire. I wanted to talk Josh out of it, but there was no point. Despite their bad reputation, or perhaps because of it, the SNB's were still the fraternity of choice and the hardest to get in. Josh was ambitious and considered this a feather in his cap. Several distinguished alumni were SNB's. He tried to get me to pledge � not SNB, of course, but some other fraternity. I burst out laughing. - Me, in a fraternity? What have you been smoking, Josh? - I'm serious. In a fraternity, you'd have brothers. You'd have friends, friends that will last for life, guys who will support you, guys who will be there for you. - If you get in. - You can get in. - They never should have made marijuana legal in this state. - What if there was a gay fraternity? - There isn't one. - Not an official one, no. But there's an informal one. They don't have a house, they meet in the student union, but they sponsor dances � some gay alum lets them rent a space for free. - I've seen the gay guys around this campus. They're as smug as � I was going to say `as your fraternity brothers', but stopped. - � as any obnoxious prig you've ever met. Gay culture can be very unforgiving, Josh. - Which you know because � - I've seen it. - Where? On TV? - . . . Yeah. And movies. And Grindr. - Listen. I know one of their members, an Israeli named Uri. What if he came over and talked to you about it? He could answer some of your questions, maybe ease you over the hump. I'll overlook the unfortunate use of the word `hump'. Uri turned out to be, predictably, studly and gorgeous. He seemed very nice and natural, though, rather down to earth. I'd have felt comfortable talking to him if it weren't for the fact that he made my heart pound just looking at him. He told me that the fraternity was very welcoming and accepting. They weren't exclusive and didn't turn anyone down. They didn't take themselves too seriously � as evidenced by their name � Kappa Omicron Kappa. "You can see why there's no national affiliation", Uri said, grinning. There was a party Saturday night for new initiates. He would have a word and would make sure that if I showed up, I'd be accepted. He gave me the address of a private house, owned by a sympathetic alum; since the party was only for initiates, it wouldn't be in one of the larger facilities and not all members would be present. I was nervous all week. This could be my chance. I could stay in the closet all through college or maybe this was the time when I could finally come out and openly state `I'm gay'. I wanted to be proud I was gay, just like they were � the ubiquitous `they' we all live in fear or hatred of. The `they' that I was sure wouldn't accept me. Fat, ugly, shy, virginal Harry. As long as they accepted me, I'd be okay. I kept telling myself that. Uri had said they would accept me. Please, KOK, accept me. This was an older town, and this was an older house, sort of Victorian, I guess, looking to me like something Nathaniel Hawthorne might have had in mind when he wrote The House of the Seven Gables. I walked up six steps to a large porch that extended the length of the fa�ade. I took a deep breath and rang the doorbell. Uri himself answered it, and looked delighted. - Hey, you made it! Great! You're just in time. The initiation ceremony's about to begin. - Initiation ceremony? - Oh, it's fun. No paddling � I promise. Come on in. I walked into a living room where there were about fifteen normal-looking guys � in their underwear. - Meet your fellow initiates. I looked at them. They looked at me. - Guys, meet Harry. He's a last minute admission to the fraternity. That produced a lot of `Hi, Harry's and smiles, which did wonders for me. They looked like guys I could trust. They looked like guys who might accept me. I didn't see anyone with a `gosh, he's fat, what is he doing here' expression on their face. On the downside, they were in their underwear. It was clear that to join this pseudo-fraternity, I would have to strip down to my briefs. I would have to be fat and nearly naked in front of them. I fought the instinct to run. Josh had said there were gay guys out there who would accept me. I had to trust that these were they. I was wondering what was going through their minds, sitting there in their boxers or briefs. Were they comfortable exposing their bodies like that? Was it turning them on? Or were they feeling awkward, too, and nervous, wondering why they had to strip to their shorts for an initiation ceremony? It was now or never. To run would be an act of cowardice. True, I was a coward. But you didn't advance unless you took risks. This was a big step, a huge risk, but it might be the safest form of huge risk I'd ever be presented with. Uri led me into another room, which looked like a den. There were piles of clothes scattered around it. - You can leave your clothes in here. But leave your undies on. My heart was racing as I slowly took off my shoes, socks, sweater, jeans, and shirt, leaving them in a neat pile on the floor near a pole lamp. I was now wearing only briefs, and I found myself trembling. Buck up, Harry. They didn't laugh at you when you walked in the door, they won't laugh at you now. I went back into the room, where I found Uri had been joined by three other guys who looked like upperclassmen. They led us down into an unfinished basement � cement floor, bare walls, no furniture whatsoever. There was, however, a pair of chains hanging down from the ceiling, with grip-handles at their ends. This was alarming, but at least they weren't constraints � you could release the grip-handles. Uri turned out to be the spokesman for the senior members of the fraternity. - Welcome, new initiates of Kappa Omicron Kappa. We regret that only a few of us upperclassmen are able to be here tonight to fully welcome you into our society. But, as you can see, there is limited space here � and, as it's a Saturday night, most of the brothers are out fucking each other anyway. Which produced laughter that seemed to relieve some of the tension we were doubtless all feeling. - We promised no paddling. We didn't promise no flogging. - (universal groans and protests) - Oh, come now, it's just a little ritual. Each of us will plant one stroke on your back. It's an act we all went through, it's a bond we'll all share. - (someone) Bond? Do we get bondage, too? - (one of the upperclassmen, jovially) Talk to me later. - (widespread laughter) - But before we get started, let's all get to know each other. We then did a round of name-learning, where we all said our names and our hometowns, and then he quizzed us by pointing to one of us and asking us to call out his name and where he was from, rapid-fire. It worked. I knew everyone's name and it worked to bring us closer together. I felt better knowing the guy next to me was Jared from Vienna, Virginia, rather than just an anonymous person. And then they came around and fitted us with blindfolds. - (Uri) I know you're all hoping we're going to play `pin the tail on the donkey' � - (someone) Pin the tail on the ass! - (laughter) - (Uri) � but these blindfolds are mostly to save you from embarrassment. You'll be safe in the knowledge that none of your fellow initiates will be able to see you. WE will � - (wicked chuckles from the upperclassmen) - but you won't see what your fellow pledges are doing, and they won't see you. Now this is Kappa Omicron Kappa, or KOK as we like to call it, and so we're going to have to see your cocks. What?! - Pull `em out. Stick `em through the openings in your shorts. Relax, nobody can see yours, except me. And Bud and Jonah and Will. . . . Okay, Jared, don't be shy. . . Harry, let's see it. Everyone else has their cock out but you. Oh, hell, why not. I was in a gay fraternity, I had to start acting gay, didn't I? I reached down and pulled my cock out from the opening in my briefs. - Now make `em stiff. - (giggling all the way around) - (someone, enjoying this) You sure we can't take our blindfolds off? - Let's go, guys. Ooh, very nice, Dustin. That's the way, Andre. Terrance, having a little trouble, are we? . . . Oh, good, Harry, you're getting there. I was, too. There was homoeroticism all around me and it was directing itself straight to my balls. Once I got started manipulating my cock, it didn't take long for me to get rock hard. But, boy was I grateful for the blindfold! I was just nervous about one thing � they wouldn't make us jack off, would they? I at least was spared that. - Okay, it's time to start the flogging. Each of us is going to give you one stroke on your back. That's only four strokes in total. But one requirement � you have to stay hard during the whole thing, or else you'll have to do it again. - (Someone) That won't be a challenge. The more you hit me, the harder I get. - Oooh, sounds like Dustin's speaking from experience. Kinky, kinky Dustin. That detail was adversely affecting my erection. I didn't need to hear about Dustin's past experience. Were all the rest of them experienced like him? We were eighteen years old. Everybody I knew in high school was experienced � or claimed to be. Was I the freak I feared I was? Was I the only virgin in the room? - Harry, Harry, the idea is to stay hard while being flogged. It doesn't help if you're soft to begin with. - (laughter) I took steps to remedy that situation. - Very good. Now that you have the momentum, why don't we start with you? No, that's not a good idea. - Come on, Harry, come on up here. And keep that pecker up. A chant began to circulate: "Harry! Harry! Harry!" Was it camaraderie or ridicule? I couldn't tell. Were my pledgemates laughing at me or shouting their encouragement because they wanted me to succeed? My paranoia feared the former, but the atmosphere in the room felt supportive. I stepped forward and felt someone slap me on the butt. "Go get `em, Harry!" Yes! Yes, I can do this! I felt a hand on my elbow and I was taken to the center of the room, where my hand was guided toward the grips hanging from the chains. I took hold of them, my hard-on at full mast. I was buoyed by the erotic atmosphere in the room; the charge was like an electric current to my groin. The first stroke hit my back. Gosh, that wasn't bad. I awaited another. And another. And another. I was still hard. Hallelujah, I had passed the test. It was someone else's turn; my ordeal was over. Except it wasn't. - Very good, Harry. Now, it's time for Part Two. - Part Two? - Oh, it speaks! I never said ALL we were going to do was plant four on your back. Before I knew it , I felt hands attaching something to my wrists. Leather restraints, which were soon attached to the grips. I couldn't get out of this now. It was not simply a matter of releasing the grips � I was captive to whatever Part Two was. - We promised no paddling. So we won't use a paddle. We'll use a nice big strap on your ass. I wanted to protest, to demand to be released. But this was a ritual, wasn't it? Obviously, we were all going to have to endure this � I would lose all the good faith of my pledgemates if I wimped out now. - And of course your underwear has to go. I heard � and then felt � a snip of the scissors. Scissors! They were cutting my briefs off me! They couldn't just yank them down, they had to reduce them to shreds? My pledgemates were full of laughter as they watched me rendered completely naked, my `tidy whities' being removed in the most humiliating manner possible. The atmosphere didn't seem so supportive now. - And in case you feel like mouthing off while we're spanking you . . . Something went into my mouth. Deep inside my mouth. I realized that it was my own briefs. A band of tape crossed my face, holding my gag in place. I felt like I was going to choke on my sweaty underpants, but they gave me a few moments to figure out how to adjust and get my breathing under control. - Okay, men. We're going to have a circle jerk. You can keep your shorts on or drop them, but nobody's going to see you � me, I'd drop `em. Now grab the cock of the guy to your right and start working it. We're going to spank Harry until every last one of you spurts. That was when it hit me. This was not a ritual that everyone was going through. They couldn't possibly put fifteen guys in my position and have fifteen circle jerks. This was about me. I was being singled out. Harry, the fat guy, the object of ridicule, was once again being made the object of ridicule. A new chant rose up: "Strap his ass! Strap his ass!" They strapped my ass. WHACK! I gasped with the first blow, it was so astonishingly more painful than the strokes across my back had been. WHACK! The second one was just as fierce. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! After the fifth, I couldn't hold it in, and I had to cry out in pain. Which produced gales of laughter. - We're going to make every square inch of your ass red, Harry. And that's going to take a lot of strokes. - (someone) Because you've got a lot of ass! The chant switched to "Fat ass! Fat ass! Fat ass!" It was obvious. This had all been a set-up to begin with. Was Kappa Omicron Kappa even real? Were my fellow pledges actually members of Sigma Nu Beta, just pretending to be gay to have fun at my expense? Was this THEIR initiation ritual � to ritually humiliate someone else? Had Josh even been in on it? WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! . . . My ass got sorer and sorer until I heard someone shout, "Omigod, here it comes!" And then a room of gleeful laughter and cheers � someone had shot his load. I lost track of the strokes. It was in the dozens, it was in the scores. Eventually they stopped, probably with the realization that if they went much further I'd have to go to the infirmary. While they were planting strokes on my ass, they repeatedly warned me against reporting this to anyone. One of the upperclassmen said his father was Dean of Students and could get me expelled. Another said his uncle was head of the infirmary and If I showed up there he would report it to the Dean of Students. These sounded like lies just to intimidate me, but there was no risk to them: No way was I going to tell a single soul about this. Not even Josh. It was too humiliating. Finally, they removed the gag from my mouth. I was full of things to say, but was incapable of saying any of them. Anyway, I had better hold my tongue until I was free of the restraints. Which wasn't yet. It appeared that my ordeal wasn't quite over. - Well, gentlemen, now that his ass is nice and red, what should we do with our big fat pig? - Roast him! - Yeah, roast the pig! It soon became the new chant: "Roast the pig! Roast the pig!" - Well, Harry should we roast you? And by roast you, I mean spitroast you? I panicked. I knew what spitroasting was. I was a virgin, I'd never taken a cock in either my ass or my mouth, and here they were proposing to give me both at the same time? How I wished I had full control over my body. Because as much as I was horrified by the suggestion, I was also turned on. I was eighteen, at my sexual peak, and my cock started to rise. - Look at that! He wants it! - (Roast the pig! Roast the pig!) - Sorry, Harry, we're not going to spitroast you. I don't stick my cock into asses that fat. I don't even think I could reach your hole! And your mouth � it's been full of stinking underwear. No, Harry, no cock for you. But I know that to roast a pig, it ought to be covered in barbecue sauce! I don't know where it came from. It felt like there was a bucket over my head that had just been turned over. But all of a sudden gallons of a thick, viscous liquid flowed over my body. It must have looked like the scene in "Carrie" when the blood was spilled over her at the prom. Some of it landed on my lip. Yes � barbecue sauce. Roars of laughter. I felt brushes smearing the barbecue sauce over my body, as if to baste it. More sauce was dumped over me, and they worked on me until every inch of my body was covered � face, neck, hair, arms, legs, chest, back, ass � even cock and balls. Especially cock and balls. Gobs of sauce were forced into my crack. I was subjected to rude comments all the while. And then a hose was unleashed with such force it seemed like torture, to the accompaniment of gleeful shouts and the occasional protest when one of them � one of THEM � had gotten wet. When they finally took me down and released the blindfold, I saw that everyone in the room was fully dressed. Uri looked me in the face. - There was no circle jerk. Do you think anybody could get their rocks off looking at the likes of you? Now get dressed and get the fuck out of here. Later I found out that Kappa Omicron Kappa was, indeed, real. This was not some cruel prank by SNB or one of the straight fraternities. Gay men had done this to me. I resolved then and there never to put myself in such a situation again. I would stay in the closet my entire life. And I wouldn't expose my body to ridicule. So why, years later, had I chosen a beach vacation at a gay-friendly resort? THE ISLAND - HARRY Someone whose body was already exposed came back and motioned me to the side of the phallic tower: Paul. - Listen, Harry, you said you could get some clothes for me. - Yeah, sure, we can. Though I'm a bit worried they won't stay around. - You mean because of Seth losing his clothes again. - If he lost his clothes twice, you might, too. - Well, I've got to do something to cover this up. I mean this is embarrassing. He looked down in shame and my eyes followed down to his crotch. His jockstrap was stained yellow. - What happened? - I had to pee so badly, Harry. I had to pee inside the jock. At least I could still crap. - I don't understand. Why didn't you take the jock off? - It won't let me. It � they � whatever � won't let me. - What do you mean? - It's like welded to my body. I can't get out of this jockstrap. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER ELEVEN � BIRTHDAYS]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-6	Date: Wed, 7 Feb 2024 01:04:13 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 6 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel. CHAPTER SIX: HUNTING AND GATHERING Previously: * Seth Herrick and ten others from the right side of the plane have arrived at a Phallic Tower, whose floor contains a multi-colored dodecagon. Earlier, a yellow dodecagon in the forest prompted the homophobic Cody to morph into his randy alternate persona, Ray, and proposition the religiously conservative Augie. Other members of the group are Harry (an insecure but competent heavyset gay man), Ed (a British knight), Vic (a `Black hunk'), and five newbies (Paul, Dai, Jasper, Lucas, and Tim) whom we'll get to know when we need to. Ed's estranged son, Leo, is missing, and there is a storm approaching. * Meanwhile, the dozen passengers from the plane's left side `land' offshore and camp out on the beach. They include Abe (Seth's boyfriend), the flight attendant Percy, Stan (a married man), his seatmate Al, and a pair of Bahamians (Theo and Piers). The next morning, Stan wakes up alone � and nude. * The plane's pilot, Barry, finds himself in a third location: an underground structure, where he is subjugated by a self-styled `magician', Hamish. Hamish informs Barry (a bdsm dom in his private life) that he will be Hamish's `boy' and orders him to a `Fuck Room'. * In flashbacks from a year ago, after a promising and sexy first date, Seth had a disastrous second date with Abe, which involved the use of handcuffs. Seth's friend Ian (who had told him to be `aggressive' with Abe), calls to scold him about going too far and offers to try to help. * * * * * * * * SATURDAY, DECEMBER 1 * * * * * * * * ISLAND CENTER � PERCY Everything had gone according to plan. The right-siders were presumably finding their way to the Phallic Tower. I'd arrived with the twelve left-siders, who were destined to join the pilot Barry underground. My husband Hamish had set his little traps in place to ensnare them. Their salient feature was a six-foot black phallus, which would plant an image on the target's retina. The brain would interpret the image as a sort of summons, drawing them inexorably to the phallus, where the trap would be sprung and Hamish could haul them in. We called them penis portals. The penis portals weren't perfect. Fabrics and leather interfered with the signal, so the subjects had to be completely nude. During the night, Hamish's lieutenants stripped the left-siders and moved them to different locations, so that they wouldn't all find the same penis portal at the same time. The transition to the island would knock them out for about twelve hours, so they wouldn't awaken while this was carried out. But last night, on the beach, I'd texted Hamish regarding three left-siders I was attracted to. I had a favor to ask. - CAN WE LIMIT THE PLAN TO NINE GUYS? I'D LIKE TO TREAT THREE DIFFERENTLY. - WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN MIND? - ISOLATE THEM, BUT KEEP THEM CLOTHED. THEY'LL BE CONFUSED BUT THINK THEY HAVE THE RESOURCES TO GET OUT OF THIS. THEN LET ME TRACK THEM DOWN. AFTER I SEDUCE THEM, THEY'LL BE NAKED AND VULNERABLE TO A PENIS PORTAL. - AND IF YOU CAN'T SEDUCE THEM? - I'LL CALL FOR HELP AND YOU CAN SEND SOME GUYS TO STRIP THEM BY FORCE. - WHAT IF YOU'RE NOT NEAR A PENIS PORTAL? - THEY CAN BE MOVED, RIGHT? - IF NECESSARY. WHICH LEFT-SIDERS? - THE TWO BAHAMIANS � PIERS THOMPSON AND THEO SEBOLD. I KNOW SEBOLD'S STRAIGHT, BUT LET ME TRY. - AND THE THIRD? - ABE DERISIAN. - . . . THAT'S HERRICK'S LOVER. - IS THAT IMPORTANT? - DERISIAN'S CRITICAL TO THE WHOLE PLAN. YOU'D BETTER DELIVER HIM. - I WILL. I'D JUST LIKE TO TAKE HIM FOR A TEST DRIVE FIRST. - WHEN YOU FIND ONE OF THEM, TEXT ME AND I'LL HAVE A PENIS PORTAL MOVED. IT MAY TAKE AN HOUR, THOUGH. - I THINK I CAN KEEP THEM OCCUPIED FOR THAT AMOUNT OF TIME. By the time I set out this morning, Hamish had already gathered three of the nine � the traps were reeling them in. They'd all be captured by mid-afternoon, if not before then. But my three could take longer. It was a large enough island that it might take me a while to find them. So I planted a microscopic sensor in their mouths (which they would swallow without realizing it) that would alert me if I was within 500 meters of them. The sensors would be operational for about 72 hours. But I wouldn't need that long to track down my targets, surely. I saw storm clouds beginning to form, miles away. No worries, it wouldn't affect this part of the island. I could hunt in good weather. Abe Derisian and Theo Sebold weren't in range, but Piers Thompson was close. I'd go after him first. I'd save the delectable Derisian for last. THE WESTERN BEACH � STAN I looked everywhere for my clothes. Gone. Nothing. I was stark naked. This didn't look like the same place we'd arrived at last night. And where had everyone gone? Al, Abe, the Bahamians Theo and Piers, Percy the flight attendant � how could they have abandoned me? Regardless, I needed to get up and hunt for them. Seeing nothing on the beach, I scrambled up to the top of the sandy slope, with grass hanging over the edge due to beach erosion. Reaching the top, I saw a vast meadow full of tall grass, not unlike a field of wheat. At least it would obscure my nudity as I worked my way through it. In the far distance there were trees and something tall and colorful peeking out over them. I couldn't tell what it was, it was just a dot of color on the horizon, but I decided to head toward it � the colorful thing must be man-made and that was good. I walked for about five minutes when something else became visible in the distance � something dark protruding from the ground; I couldn't tell what it was. A couple of minutes later, I spotted something that was neither dark, colorful, nor distant: the upper third of a male human being, shirtless. I called out. - Hey! The shirtless one stopped suddenly, and jerked his head in my direction. I called out again: - Hey! - . . . Is that someone from the plane? - Yes! Stan Kowalczyk! - Stan! Hey! It's me � Al! Al Casey! We worked our way toward each other. As soon as we got close enough to not have to shout, he said: - Look, this is kind of embarrassing, but I don't have any clothes on. Whatever this prank was, I was apparently not its only victim. I approached him until we were only twenty feet apart, the tall grass still obscuring our nether regions. - I don't either, Al. I don't know what happened. - I woke up alone. I thought you guys abandoned me. But I wasn't on the same beach we landed at. Everybody was gone, and so were my clothes. - That's exactly what happened to me. - What do you think happened? - I don't know. I suspect Percy had something to do with it. - Who's Percy? - The flight attendant. - Oh. Yeah, he seemed a little weird to me. Gay, too. - I don't care if he's gay, straight, or screws farm animals. I just know he was the guy in charge, and we both wound up naked and moved. - He's not large enough to have moved us. He must have had help. - But why would anybody do that? I feel idiotic walking through this field without clothes on. - Once we find some people, we can maybe get clothes. And if we find Percy, we can maybe get answers. I saw that thing in the distance, I thought I'd go there. - Same thought. What about that black thing? What do you suppose it is? - No idea. Let's keep going and find out. FLASHBACK � STAN (PORTLAND) � two weeks ago - You don't love me. - Magda, don't be silly. - That's your response to everything, isn't it. Magda, don't be silly. I'm just a silly woman. I must be silly because I'm a woman. - No, you're not silly because you're a woman. You're a woman AND you're being silly. - Thank you for clarifying. - Why do you say I don't love you? - It's obvious when we're in bed. You're just going through the motions. - Am I not giving you what you want? - That's the problem, Stan. I can see you trying to give me what I want. What about what you want? It's evident you don't want me. - How is that evident? - It's in your eyes. You're distant, you're not there. You're being technical. Oh, I better do this because she told me she likes that. There's no emotion, no connection, no . . . chemistry. - So what is this leading up to? Are you saying you want a divorce? - . . . I don't know. - Oh, great. - I think we should take separate vacations. - I've already booked a week in Cartagena in three weeks. - Yes, but your vacation starts in two weeks. Do you have anything planned for that first week? - I figured I'd putter around, build that birdhouse you're always wanting, catch a `Blazers game. - In other words, no. So let's put it to the test. We each take a week on our own, then spend a week together. We'll see which week we like better. But you have to go somewhere, Stan. - Where are you going to go? - I've always wanted to see Machu Picchu, which doesn't interest you at all. You go somewhere where you can scuba dive, you like that. Bonaire. Aruba. One of those islands off Costa Rica. - That's not such a bad idea. Aruba sounds nice. - And if you want to play around, maybe you should. See if you prefer home cooking. - Are you asking for permission to play around with some handsome Peruvian guy? - I'm not going there to find a handsome Peruvian. But I wouldn't rule it out either, and I'm not forbidding you to hook up with some hot girl you meet on the beach. Look at this as an experiment. See if the temptation strikes us. Then maybe we'll know how we really feel about each other. - Are you saying you don't love me either? - I'm saying I'm exploring my feelings, Stan. I think we need this time apart to sort things out. I'll go to Peru. You go to Aruba � what's the worst that could happen? FUCK ROOM A � BARRY Let me make something clear. I am a top, an absolute top. I had never been fucked in my life until I arrived in Hamish's domain. He made me strip � what happened to my clothes, I don't know. He fed me. And then he took me to this room and ordered me into the sling. Straps were attached to my wrists, and to my ankles. I was suspended in the sling, my legs stretched far apart, my ass vulnerable, my hole exposed. - I'm going to introduce you to some of my friends, Barry. - Who? What friends? Where did they come from? - Barry boy. Do you think yours is the first plane that crashed here? I've been collecting lieutenants. - Lieutenants? What � are you building an army? Is this some kind of militia that - He interrupted me by punching me in the balls. I felt my insides rushing up and I feared for a moment that I was going to vomit. I gasped for air, and for sanity. - Dear me, you nearly upchucked, didn't you? I'll bet you wouldn't want that to happen. - So don't hit me like that again. - Now now, Barry. If you deserve to be punched in the balls, you'll be punched in the balls. But I don't want any messes to have to clean up. Of course, you'd have to clean it up, which means I'd have to untie you. Way too much bother. No, I think I'll take other action to make sure that doesn't happen. He nodded to one of his `lieutenants', who stuck a ball gag into my mouth, and then wrapped a cloth gag around the outside of that, and then duct tape around THAT. - There. That ought to hold in any impulse you have to decorate your body with the remnants of tonight's dinner. Kind of me to feed you, though, wasn't it. You see, I can be a very kind and rewarding master. If you're a good boy. - I'mm bm m gmmm bmm. - I'm sure you will, Barry. Yes, I've been collecting my lieutenants, one per flight, until I had the requisite number. Well, I did collect four of them from the same flight, but they were brothers and I didn't want to break up a set. I only keep one lieutenant from each flight, the rest we have fun with. Until it's their time to � well fun can come in all forms, can't it. Now, how many cocks do you think you can take, Barry? And don't say none or only one. I held up two fingers. - Oh, surely, you can do better than that. My favorite number is twelve, but perhaps we'll work ourselves up to that, eh? I won't be one of them, nor will my husband. But the four brothers are anxious to meet you, and � let's see, let's add in Mac and Alec and Stefan. Stefan has a nice big cock � he's really huge, I think that will be a nice finale to your initiation, don't you agree? - Nm. Nmm sm mm-nm. - What was that? Not so many? You best be respectful, Barry, or I'll add more to the list. Seven is a nice number, not as nice as twelve, but it's one of those classic numbers, isn't it. Now you asked me before about lube. As it turns out, I have some. Because it's your first time, I'll give you some. But don't get too used to it. Saliva's good enough most of the time. Unless you're a bad boy, in which case you get fucked dry. - I'mm bm m gmmm bmm. - Yes, you already said that. Don't repeat yourself. Now, let's introduce you to Mac, shall we? Mac was well-built, handsome, and didn't look at all like a `Mac'. He looked like some kind of professional. He didn't act like it, though. - (Mac) Oh, what a pretty pussy you have there, boy. I understand I'm going to take your virginity. Is that right? British accent of some sort. Scottish? - Nmm. - Oh, you've been fucked before? - Nmm. - Then you're a virgin, boy. Fucking other boys doesn't count. He smeared my waiting hole with lubricant, then thrust his thick finger deep inside. I gasped. - Oh, come on, don't you want it nice and loose inside? Of course you do. A finger became two. I squirmed with the unwelcome � and unique � sensation of foreign objects up my asshole. I have, in my day, put plenty of foreign objects up the assholes of my boys � highlighted by, but not limited to, my cock. They mostly delighted in it. I, at the moment, did not. And then something larger than his finger went inside me. Jolts of pain reverberated from my ass. I could not believe the intensity of it. I was gasping, panting, trying to control, trying to manage the pain. As he slipped deeper and deeper inside me. He paused for a moment, and let me adjust. - I don't usually do this for most of them. But Hamish says you're to be his boy, I think he wants you to get used to it. Just take a moment, feel my cock inside you. . . . Okay, that's long enough, get ready to rock. To my surprise, the moment he took to let me adjust to the sensation of my rectum being filled did help. So that when he started drilling me, it was � well, okay, it was still awful, but not as bad as it would have been if he had just pumped me from the very first second. I got used to the sensation � sorta � of a cock pounding my innards, and thought about all the boys I'd done it to that loved it. Mac was followed by Alec, a big man with a New York accent � I hadn't seen any little guys among Hamish's `lieutenants' � but he was less fierce in his fucking, and by this time it just felt like more of the same. But in addition to fucking me, he also twisted my balls � which hurt like the devil. He was grinning when he took my `nads in his fingers and squeezed them. There followed the four brothers � Patrick, Lander, Xander, and Dane. Lander and Xander seemed to be identical twins, but Patrick decided to blindfold me, so it was just a series of disembodied cocks plowing away at my guts. I was plenty sore, though, by this time, it having been well over an hour of solid fucking. And then, for the grand finale, I was greeted by Stefan, who untied my left wrist so that he could wrap my hand around his cock. Or try to. It wouldn't go all the way around. He teased me by tracing my fingers along his urethra, which, no doubt, stimulated him. He then shocked me by performing the same action on me � which stimulated me. - Yeah, you like that, don't you, boy? I want you nice and hard while I drill you. And you better stay nice and hard, or I'll send you to Alec to work your balls over. To my astonishment, Stefan's threat made me hard. I imagined myself making the same threat to one of my conquests after I had him all tied up. I have tortured many a testicle in my day. And even though it would be me suffering the consequences, I was able somehow to transfer that in my mind to my doing it to an innocent young lad. Which made me � and kept me � hard. Because - omigod - was Hamish right about the size of Stefan's cock. It was one thing to feel it in my hand and quite another to feel it in my ass. My rectum was racked with pain so severe that, even after I'd been opened up by six men, taking him was worse than the initial penetration by Mac. And he just pushed his way in without hesitation and began fucking right away. I rocked back and forth in my sling with the force of his drilling, his powerful cock thrusting in and out like there was no tomorrow. Finally, spent, he withdrew and I lay there, exhausted. I did not know what, if anything, was coming next. I was waiting to be released, but, blindfolded, I could see absolutely nothing. I heard footsteps. Hamish. - You got a solid B, Barry, bordering on B-plus. That's a pretty good grade from some tough judges. I'll turn you into a class A fuck by the time you meet the Trigger Man. - Wmmm thm Trmmmm Mmm? - What's the Trigger Man? He's the key to why you're here, Barry. His name is Seth Herrick. My husband's up top now hunting his boyfriend. FLASHBACK: SETH (CLEVELAND) � November 27 to December 1, last year - Hello? - Seth. - Ian. Are you calling to give me more bad advice? - No, I'm calling to give you a second chance with Abe. - And how are you going to accomplish that? - Have you called him? - I did once. He didn't answer. - Did you leave a message? - If you got an apology on voicemail, would it work? - Probably not. That's why we need a second line of attack. - You want me to send flowers or something? - No. You're going to talk to him face to face. - I'm not going to his apartment. I don't even know where he lives. - Not necessary. - Then how am I going to talk to him? - Chance meeting. - Wander the streets around the university until I run into him, is that your plan? - His birthday's coming up. December first. Friday night. - I'll buy him a diamond necklace. That should do it. - Seth. Stop being sarcastic and negative. My friend Jason is throwing Abe a party. You're invited. - Jason barely knows me. - Abe doesn't know that. The whole reason I know about you and Abe is because Jason saw you at Studs and Stripes. It was Abe's first time there, but Jason's been there a lot. So � if he asks how you know Jason � you and Jason became friends at Studs and Stripes. - That seems a bit dishonest. - All's fair in love and sex. - That's not quite how the saying goes. - Then think of it as war. You have a mission � the pursuit and conquest of one Abraham Derisian. Only it's his heart you want to conquer, not just his ass. Remember that. I'll brief you and Jason on enough personal details about each other to make you seem like casual friends. - Close enough to invite me to a birthday party of HIS friend? - Jason saw you together. He doesn't know about the disaster. He thought he'd surprise Abe by having you there. - It'll be a surprise, all right. And it was. Not a pleasant one. Abe's nostrils flared when he spotted me. - What are you doing here? - Jason invited me. I'm a friend of his. - You're not a friend of mine. - Look, Abe, I'm sorry. I misread you completely. PLUS I was following some really bad advice. That seemed to give him pause. - Bad advice? What does that mean? - I was talking to a friend, and I was telling him how special you were. He told me to be aggressive. - You were that, all right. - I blew it, okay? I totally blew it. I wanted to impress you, he told me you wanted that sort of thing, that it would turn you on. - How the hell did he get that idea? - He . . . mentioned something about a slave auction? Abe turned a bright color of red. - Oh, god, that. That was a year ago � yeah, I did that. For charity. Someone saw me there? - Jason. - And you thought I was into all that BDSM stuff? - Yeah. - Well, I kinda sorta could be. But the handcuffs freaked me out, Seth. - I know. I know I know I know. I went too far. Way too far. I totally misjudged the situation. I've never done anything like that before. - Those handcuffs just materialized in your nightstand? - No. Listen, I've got a history. I was married, I had kids, it . . . well, the short version of the story is that it ended because I started seeing a guy. And the guy was into all sorts of kinky stuff. Only he was the dom, and I was the sub. Those were his handcuffs. That was the short version, all right. - How long ago was this? - Four years ago. - And you still have his handcuffs? - I was going to give them back. I thought he'd collect them. He never did. I haven't seen him since. He just disappeared, I don't even know if he's still in Cleveland. Honest � I'd almost forgotten I had them. And then when my friend said that � - Who is this friend? - No one you know. But he has a friend who knows you. - A friend you call on for rape advice. - I deserve that, I know. But you were hard during the whole thing, I thought you liked it. There was a pause. - Well, . . . I kinda did. - . . . What? - I kinda did. But I was just insulted that you ignored everything I was saying. - Are you telling me that `no' meant `yes'? - Unh-uh. `No' meant `no', Seth, it will always mean `no'. If you'd been upfront with me, if we'd agreed beforehand, then maybe . . . maybe I would have consented. But you just leaped at me with those handcuffs and crushed me with your body. I couldn't move. I felt so disrespected. - You were never disrespected, Abe. Misinterpreted, yes. You were presented with a jerk who thought he knew what you wanted, and he should have just damn asked instead of assuming. The truth is � and this is the absolute truth � I barely know Jason. My friend wangled this invitation so I could talk to you. - . . . I see. - I've been doing nothing this past week but thinking about you. Thinking about how much I wanted to get to know you. I don't mean sexually. I mean as a person. I said at the start of this conversation that you were special. You ARE special, Abe. I'll . . . I'll do anything you want if you'd just give me a second chance. If you wouldn't shut the door. I don't know how to make amends for what I did � I know I can't. I don't expect you to forgive and forget. But maybe you could just take last Saturday night and put it on a shelf somewhere and we could start over. - That sounds a lot like `forgive and forget'. - No. We'd always be in the same room with the shelf. It will be there looking at us, judging us. Judging ME. I . . . I like you so much, Abe. I want to see you again. There was a long pause. He saw the moistness in my eyes, and that seemed to have some effect on him. - How about this, Seth? We have a non-sex date. - Okay. - We go to a movie, we have a drink. Or a coffee, doesn't matter. We just talk. We don't go back to your place or my place. We don't kiss. We don't even touch. We just find out if we like each other enough to want to have another date � and maybe that one doesn't involve sex either. - Yes. I'm all in. - To be honest, I had such mixed feelings afterwards. I was confused. I wanted you and I hated you. And I would like to want you and like you. I'm just not sure if that's possible. - Pick the date, time, and movie. Text me with the details; as long as it's not during my workday, I'm there. And if you want more than coffee or a drink, like dinner, pick the restaurant. It's on me. - Of course it's on you, asshole. But he said that with a smile. THE PHALLIC TOWER - SETH The thunder intensified. The walls of the tower were too thick for us to hear the actual rain, but a quick peek out the door indicated it was coming down in sheets. I wondered if the slit at the top of the phallus would let the rain in, but apparently it was sealed up there; we remained dry. I considered the ten men with me. My hormones were going wild. There was definitely an erotic charge to the atmosphere. Jasper exuded testosterone like lava spilling out of a volcano � he just couldn't hold it in. Paul was almost a balding version of Abe � small and incredibly fuck-worthy. Dai turned me on. Lucas was a stud. Not to mention adorably innocent Augie, horny Ray, and he-man Vic. Tim? He was probably straight, but if there were no one else in the room, I could get turned on by Tim. Which left Ed and Harry. Ed was a bundle of nerves, worrying about Leo, not in the mood to talk. I found myself migrating toward Harry � the only person in the room I could talk to about the greater mystery without being distracted by signals coming from my balls. - (Harry) You know this floor pattern is the same shape as we found in the woods. The one that drove Cody crazy. - Cody was already crazy. I think he's really Ray. - Unless he's really Gary. Cody mentioned two Onslows. - Multiple personality? - I think so. They call it dissociative identity disorder now. Cody didn't remember anything about the plane. He said the Onslows brought him here. On the plane he was one of them, and then the Cody personality took over when we arrived on the island. The shock of the plane breaking apart made him retreat into a less aggressive personality. - Less aggressive? Cody's not exactly shy. - Well, maybe less sexual. You can't deny there's something sexual about this island, Seth. This place could be named Pheromone Island. Maybe Cody's asexual as a retreat from Ray. - Then what is Gary like? - We haven't seen Gary yet. I suspect he's the actual person. My guess is that something happened to him and he developed Ray, but Ray was too overtly sexual and so he developed Cody as a safe retreat. But those two personalities dominate. - Interesting. But you were saying about the floor pattern. - Yes. A twelve-sided figure, called a dodecagon. Have you noticed, Seth, how often that number comes up? There were twelve of us on the right side of the plane. There were also twelve on the left side. There were twelve cities on that map. We've run across two twelve-sided polygons. The tower is painted in twelve colors. And � not to be overlooked � we were on Flight 12. - And your grand conclusion from this confluence of coincidences? - I haven't the foggiest. But there are too many twelves for it to be purely circumstantial. There is a design to this island. It revolves around the number twelve. And it revolves around sex. And I think it might even � Our conversation was interrupted when the door suddenly opened. In came a scraggly, extremely wet young man, his red hair matted down, every inch of his clothing soaked through. - Leo! Ed rushed to embrace his missing son. Harry had an `I told you so' look on his face. - (Leo) Dad, I'm all wet. You'll get all wet. - (Ed) I already am. Oh, Leo, thank God you're alive. - (Leo) Wow, that's the first time you've ever said THAT. So . . . did the whole plane survive? This doesn't look like everybody. - The whole right side. We haven't seen anyone from across the aisle. We caught Leo up on our various adventures and he related his own, which seemed unremarkable until he related that he had, on his journey, passed plane wreckage. - (Leo) But it wasn't our plane. The seats were beige. Beige. Not gray. Not blue. Not red. How many planes had crashed on this island? I looked at Harry and asked him that question. He shrugged and ventured a guess: - Twelve? A MEADOW � STAN Al and I threaded our way carefully through the tall grass. Now that we knew we were both naked, there was no need to hide our bodies from each other. The ground was soft enough that it didn't hurt our feet, though we had to step carefully. We'd seen storm clouds in the distance, but here it remained dry. We were approaching the black thing poking out of the vegetation. As we neared it, we saw that it was actually at the back of a semi-circular area where the grass was barely half an inch high. But well before we could see the short grass, we could tell what it was we were looking at. But, like so much else that had befallen us since we left Miami, it made no sense. It was a phallus. It was the image of an erect penis, over six feet high, out of some polished black stone like onyx. It was immaculate in terms of its detail. If you had used it as the model for a dildo, you could not have chosen better. But it would have to be a dildo for an elephant. I felt a compulsion to move closer, to check it out. - What do you think, Al? I'd think it was left over from some kind of ancient fertility cult, but � - It's not ancient, is it? It looks polished, not like, you know, eroded or something. - I've heard of things like this � my wife mentioned a so-called fertility garden in Peru that she wanted to see. Stone images of erect penises arranged in a little area like a garden. Apparently people worshipped them in hopes of increasing their chances of having children. - Whoever made this was probably somebody like that. It's strange, but at least it's a sign that there are people here. - It's weird. I mean, I'm straight, but somehow I find this beautiful. - I know what you mean. I do too. You want to touch it? - Yeah. I don't know why, but I do. Entering the semi-circle was like stepping out of the woods into a clearing. But it wasn't a natural clearing. - (Al) This is like a manicured lawn. Someone's mowed the � He never finished that sentence. For a foot away from him, a little black phallus popped up out of the ground. Little only compared to the big one � it seemed about the size of a normal human cock. It had sprung up out of the ground like a flower emerging from the ground in spring, only in fast-motion. - What the - ? Another penis sprung out of the ground a few inches away. Moments later we were in a garden of penises, varying from five to eight or nine inches in length, and approximating my own in diameter. Five of them, then ten, then twenty, thirty, fifty of them, surrounding us so quickly that we could scarcely move. - Let's get out of here. But it was too late. There were so many that there was not enough space to walk in between the dildos. You couldn't move without stepping on one or more of them. And they were not all the same height. Being naked, our feet were bare. The penises being uneven and with knobby tips, to try to walk on them was painful and impossible to keep your balance. What was more, the phalluses around the outer edge of the semi-circle suddenly sprang up to our own height. They didn't not grow in width, only in height, forming a long tube with a cockhead at the end � almost like the extension of a vacuum cleaner with the world's oddest attachment. This would have been amusing except that they abutted each other, blocking our path. Al managed to crawl to the edge and tried to climb the `wall' but could not get a grip, as there was no space between the penis shafts to get anything to hold on to. Worse, whenever he touched one of the border penises, it shot even higher into the air, now nearly ten feet high. We were trapped. Not that I was doing any better. The penises in my immediate vicinity had risen to chest height, penning me in so that I could not move. Al was not so closely confined and could still move around the circle, though with the uneven cockheads, it was impossible for him to keep his balance, and he fell, flat on his stomach. A group of phalluses rose underneath him, pushing him up to nearly eye-level. I looked on hopelessly as he was lifted like a car undergoing repairs in a mechanic's garage. Then a second set of phalluses pushed against his chest, rushing up suddenly to tip him backwards; simultaneously, those under his abdomen contracted, flipping him backwards, positioning him to land smack on his ass. But he didn't land. Before he reached the surface, a perfectly positioned phallus sprang up to meet him and speared him directly, penetrating his anus. - Stan, help me! Help me! This thing is up my ass! Like I couldn't see that. I watched in horror as the phallus lifted him up ten, twelve feet in the air, anally impaling him, his arms and legs waving wildly as he tried to free himself from the sodomizing pole. But there was nothing I could do. I was literally surrounded by pole-phalluses that were up to my chest. It was like being stuck inside a barrel. I couldn't get out. I couldn't lift a finger to help. Al continued to scream in panic and in pain as the pole raised him higher and higher, so that he was now nearly thirty feet in the air. And then higher, maybe sixty feet up, looking like a human flagpole. And then he started to scream even louder. The black phallus turned slowly red and started to glow. - It's burning me! Oh my god it's like fire up my ass! Somebody help me! Help me! But then the red pole turned back to black and I saw a look of relief on Al's face � well, semi-relief, because he was still impaled high in the air, but no longer, it seemed, with the sensation of a red hot poker up his ass. Red hot pokers up his ass. Wasn't there some English king who was killed that way? I don't remember it in Dante, but it seemed like a torture that preachers warned would greet us in hell. Were we in hell? Was it Al's fate to be sodomized by oversized penises? Just as suddenly, he began to descend. Slowly at first, and then faster and faster until he was whizzing toward the ground. And through it. As he hurtled toward the surface the ground underneath the penis collapsed inward, like a sinkhole. And Al disappeared into the earth; a moment later, ground appeared, blank ground, not covered by penises at all. The ring of tall shafts around the large circle had also contracted and vanished into the ground. The only penises left were a single row surrounding me, blocking me from even six inches of movement. And then I felt it. Rising up from the ground beneath, it was in the exact right place to spear me between my cheeks. Before I knew it, I was as anally impaled as Al had been and rising toward the sky. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER SEVEN � SOMEONE CAPTURED, SOMEONE REVEALED]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-32	Date: Thu, 25 Apr 2024 20:45:57 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 32 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO: HARRY'S DILEMMA Previously: * Seth asks for volunteers to fulfill his obligation to fuck one of The Twelve. Harry longs to be chosen but Seth chooses Tim, who had volunteered. * Ian guides Harry into the woods, `accidentally' encountering Seth fucking Tim. He maneuvers Harry into saying he hadn't wanted Seth to choose him, a fact he later relayed to Seth, who promised not to choose Harry in the future. In Flashbacks: * In college, Harry had been invited to join a gay fraternity by Uri, a friend of Harry's roommate. However, at the initiation ceremony, Harry was ridiculed, and, accompanied by chants of `roast the pig', found himself doused with barbecue sauce. * A year before meeting Seth, Abe was persuaded by Ian (whom he was then dating) to auction himself off at a slave auction for charity in Cleveland. He was bought for $900 by a brute who put him in handcuffs and abused him viciously, resulting in Abe's aversion to handcuffs. * * * * * * * * MONDAY, DECEMBER 17 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � HARRY Today was the day. My birthday. My date with the chartreuse dodecagon � supposedly. With ten others here to guard me, I should be protected. Especially if the two Stimulever employees were truly on `our side'. I trusted Ian more than Sean, but I wondered if that wasn't just because I'd seen Sean having sex with Seth. And who would Seth have sex with today? Not me � with five fit bodies available, why choose fat Harry? Okay, that was uncharitable. Most likely he didn't want our friendship to be altered by introducing sex into the equation. - (Seth) Don't worry, Harry. We'll keep you safe. And I'm not about to use you to satisfy this stupid sex requirement they've imposed on me. I've spoken to Jasper, he's willing to do it today. - Thanks, Seth. What else was there to say? He thought he was doing me a favor, showing me respect, unaware that to feel him inside me was the birthday present I wanted most in the world. And I could never tell him that. THE PHALLIC TOWER � JASPER I`d promised my psychiatrist I'd forego sex during my trip. But that pledge was only for a week � and I was now in my third week of abstinence. I was going crazy, longing to plow Gary if only he were willing. Or anybody, really. And now Seth was offering me sex � only he'd be on top. Okay, I was used to being on top, but you can't be too restrictive. For anal sex, I bottomed occasionally � maybe 10% of the time, which, when you had sex as often as I did, was a lot. But my experience bottoming had occasionally been ill-advised: one time in particular, I had gone home with the wrong guy, and it got scary. Still, surrendering my ass to a stud like Seth was a suitable way to end my December celibacy. Besides, it wasn't like I had taken the initiative � he had approached me. And it would help us get off the island and avoid a disastrous upcoming year � according to Sean. See, Dr. Faraday, I have a good excuse. I've been a good soldier, did what you asked. You couldn't expect me to go the whole month of December, could you? This is entirely reasonable. So why did I feel like I was cheating? THE PHALLIC TOWER � IAN Seth had gone into the woods with Augie. Everyone was startled that he was doing so on a day when the paramount objective was to guard Harry, but Sean had told me why. I felt bad for Augie, but if it had to be done, it had to be done. Harry, observing Seth's departure, was nervous, but I assured him that he still had eight guys here, including Sean and me, and I didn't see how a dodecagon could get past all of us. - (Harry) Unless it appears ten feet in front of me. Or under my feet. - I rather doubt that will happen. - Ian, something I've been wondering about. - Yeah? - Seth told me that everyone underground met someone they knew, someone in their sexual history. - That's right. - I don't . . . have a sexual history. - Harry, you might be a virgin, but you've been in sexual situations before, right? - No. - That's not what I heard. - What do you mean? What have you heard? Who could you have heard something from? - Well, you said it. Everyone who's gone down has met someone they knew before. - Are you saying there's someone down there I know? - His name is Uri. - Oh, no! Not Uri! When I was in college, he � - Harry. That wasn't the only time you encountered Uri, was it? FLASHBACK: HARRY (PHILADELPHIA/CLEVELAND) � December, two years ago I'd been working for Dr. Kwon for a couple of years as her receptionist/personal assistant, basically running the office. When she called me in at the end of the day, I thought something was wrong. - Harry, it's December, and you haven't taken any vacation days this year. - Well, you know, I didn't want to leave you in the lurch. - You even manned the office when I was on MY vacation. - There were calls that came in. Patients that needed to be referred to other doctors. Bills to pay. Records to � - Stop it. You're working too hard. - Am I doing a bad job? - Harry, you're doing a great job. You always have. But I'm worried about you. You need a break. Look � I'm taking a long weekend. Why don't you do the same? Go somewhere, have some fun. Fly off to Canc�n or Disneyworld, relax. - I don't think so. And I need to be back Tuesday for my book club. - So where would you want to go? I thought for a moment. I'd always wanted to visit the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Cleveland in December wasn't exactly anyone's idea of a dream vacation, but honestly it was the first thing that popped into my head. And so I was off to romantic Cleveland. And the Hall of Fame was admittedly great � until I ran into him on the steps on my way out. - Harry? I froze. It had been seven years, but I knew that face. That face had haunted my dreams. - What are you doing here, Uri? - You remember me. - How could I forget? That was one of the worst nights in my life. - God, I feel awful about that. You didn't deserve that. - No, I didn't. Excuse me. I moved to leave but he stepped in front of me. - Look, Harry, that was a long time ago. I was young, I was stupid, I was arrogant, I was callous � - Don't stop now, you're on a roll. - I knew what we were doing was wrong, but I was so insecure � - YOU were insecure? You're like the most gorgeous guy in that supposed fraternity. Oh, that just slipped out. Well, he WAS gorgeous, which is what made the humiliation all the more painful. - Yeah, I was insecure. I felt I needed to prove myself to the other guys. The fraternity had something of a tradition of making a fool out of one of the pledges. And the guys said you would be the perfect target. I fought them � honestly, I did. But they said there were whispers I wasn't loyal to the frat, and that if I wanted to be president next year � which I did � well, I caved. I was ambitious, I didn't want to alienate anyone, I went along. He said this with such sincerity that it made sense. I remembered how respectful he was when he first talked to me, and how Josh had said he was such a nice guy. I really thought he was a good person until the tables were turned that Saturday night. But I understood peer pressure, and how he might have succumbed to it. And it was seven years later. People do change. - Look, Harry, let me make it up to you. Can we have a drink together? On me. We repaired to a bar � not a gay bar, but a nice pub in a Polish area of Cleveland. And we had a good time. We shared our life stories � he had gone to law school but was now doing pro bono work in Akron, and had just popped up here for the weekend. He was in between relationships, looking for the right guy. I said the same, it was hard to meet just the right person. Giving him the impression I had recovered from my trauma, pursued gay relationships, and was living a normal life as a well-adjusted homosexual. After making sure he had never set foot in Philadelphia, I even referenced the Tinderbox and other gay bars whose thresholds I had never crossed. I invented stories about sexy Mario the bartender and guys I'd met who were good times but not long-term. I should write fiction for a living, I'm good at making up things. Then he had an idea. - Hey, want to go to a slave auction? - A what? - A slave auction. It's for charity. A bunch of guys auction themselves off to the highest bidder. You're into that, right? You said the Tinderbox was a leather bar. Yeah, and I'd described events that had (not) occurred there. In my eagerness to appear wildly sexual, I'd implied an interest in kink that was not something I'd ever actually pursued beyond my fantasy world. - I don't know, Uri. - It's for charity. Look, it's just entertainment. It'll be fun. My treat. How could I say no? Watching a bunch of hot bodies parading around with a lot of exposed flesh � and no one paying a lick of attention to me? What was not to like? The establishment was called the Blockhouse, and it was packed. There must have been a hundred guys there. Our tables were assigned to us based on a ticket number handed to us at the door. Because it was so crowded, we shared our table with two guys adorned in full leather gear. ("We came to bid.") The event was as hot as I was hoping. One after another, sexy hunks paraded around in very little clothing, showing lots of chest, lots of leg, and plenty of ass. My libido kicked into overdrive. The highlight was the seventh or eighth guy, a short, bearded guy in his early twenties with a fabulous butt and hairy chest. A burly guy maybe a hundred pounds heavier than him bought him for nine hundred dollars, went on stage, tossed him over his shoulder, and walked off looking prepared to rape him right then and there. My cock pressed against my pants, just fantasizing about what he was going to experience. There were twelve guys in all, and then came a moment which they had announced at the beginning, but in all the frivolity of the moment, I had forgotten. - And now, we'll choose our thirteenth slave � one of you, chosen at random. He won't be going home with one of you; most of you are doms, and maybe he wouldn't be so cooperative in the privacy of your home. So we'll have a little on-stage entertainment he can't worm his way out of. Everyone's eligible except our successful bidders � check your ticket numbers. And the winning number is � You know how this story ends, don't you. I planned to refuse to acknowledge my identity and sneak out unnoticed, but a moment later a spotlight, apparently practiced in zeroing in on specific seats, blared in my face, and the room was suffused with raucous cheers. Two brawny studs � in harnesses and chaps � worked their way through the crowd to find me. The two leather guys at my table were laughing their asses off. Uri, to his credit, looked horrified. - Harry, man, I'm so sorry! I had no choice. Could I make lemonade of this? Could this, in fact, be the moment I had waited for all twenty-six years of my life? Could I turn this into something positive, something exciting? They led me up on stage, and the emcee proceeded to interview me. - Hello, victim, what's your name? - Harry. - Harry, are you hairy? - Not particularly. - Well, we're about to find out. Strip him! To the buff! And my two muscular escorts, assisted by two other well-built studs, proceeded to undress me by force. My shirt was pulled off, and then my pants, followed by my shoes and socks. I was left in my underwear, to which a pair of shears was soon attached. Snip, snip, off they came, and I was nude in front of a hundred cheering, jeering guys. I heard a wolf-whistle, followed by derogatory laughter. - I see we've got at least one chubby-chaser in the crowd. - (voice from the crowd) I was being sarcastic. - Oh, thank God. I thought you had really bad taste. Ordinarily, we'd fuck our selected victim, but I'm not sure it's even possible to reach your hole, Harry, considering how fat your ass is. I hope you're a top, Harry, because you're not going to get much action as a bottom! - (lying) I am. - Good, it's always more fun to abuse a top. I looked on nervously as they brought on a padded bench. - Now, Harry, we need you to lean over this. Give us a nice view of your ass � well, as nice a view as is possible with an ass like yours. - (uproarious laughter) I complied. What else could I do? - Gentlemen, form a line. Each one of you is going to give Harry here a good swat on his bottom with one of these fraternity paddles. Go ahead, hit as hard as you like � he can't sue. It says so on his admission ticket. Well I didn't purchase the tickets, did I? But the guy was right, anyway � I wouldn't sue. Even if this sent me to the hospital, I couldn't contact a lawyer. How could I ever explain why I was suing them? There followed the most painful half-hour of my life. One after the other, the audience members came up to the stage and plastered my ass with vicious swings of the fraternity paddle. Whack, whack, whack, whack � eighty-four times. They made me count them. Eighty-four smacks of wood against buttock. Eighty-four times I gasped in pain � or, midway � grunted or called out � and in the later going, yelled. Which only seemed to encourage them. The last ones whacked my butt so hard I thought I was going to pass out. Any qualified doctor would probably have sent me straight to the E.R. � which would be even more humiliating than this was. After each man paddled me, he pulled up my head, leaned over, and spit in my face. As if I needed additional humiliation. Uri, at least, was not among my tormentors, although our tablemates were. As the final men were blistering my butt, I turned my head and peered out into the audience. I couldn't tell if Uri was still there or not, the lights were too bright. As the last painful blow was administered to my ravaged buttocks, I started to get up, glad to have somehow survived the ordeal, and wondering if I would be able to sit down on the plane back to Philly. - Not so fast, Harry. We have one more thing in store for you. About the only thing appropriate for a pig like you! And something went splat on my back. And ass. And legs. And head. I didn't need to see to know what it was � I could smell it. Barbecue sauce. Barbecue sauce. I knew then that Uri would not be waiting for me, horrified at my ordeal, full of concern and compassion, oh-so-apologetic. He was responsible. How else would they know about the barbecue sauce? It was all a set-up. He had brought me here deliberately, knowing I would be the `random' victim selected, and he'd told them all about the incident with Kappa Omicron Kappa. But how did he know I'd be in Cleveland, and just happen to run into me outside the Hall of Fame? THE PHALLIC TOWER � IAN My words had had exactly the right effect. I saw Harry disappear into space, reliving a moment in his life that had nothing but bad associations for him. It took him about a minute to recover, then he looked me in the eye. - Thank you, Ian. You've put everything in perspective. You've reminded me of just who I am, and what I am. And I know what I have to do now. - I don't understand. - I'm a loser, Ian. I'm a fucking loser. I'm no good here � I have no role anymore. You're here and Sean's here and Seth's here � that's all these guys need. You don't need me, you can control things. The dodecagons want me; they can have me. They fuck guys down there � at least I'll lose my virginity, maybe even to Uri, which would be ironic but fitting. It's obvious no one here wants me, and no one in Alphaworld wants me. Tell Seth goodbye for me. And he traipsed off into the woods. I didn't stop him. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SEAN - Well done, Ian. One goal accomplished. - If he finds the chartreuse dodecagon. - It will find him. Now, what are you going to do about the others? - Vic's next, right? On the nineteenth, that's two days. - I don't mean the Twelve. I mean the left-siders. They're still alive. They need to be not-alive. - I have time for that. - You do. But don't fuck up, Ian. Or you may find out what it feels like to be a left-sider. And nothing good befalls a left-sider. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH - You let him go? Ian, how could you do that? - Seth, he had his mind made up. He felt worthless here. - Christ, Ian, he's the furthest thing from worthless we have here. Right now, YOU'RE worthless. - I think he thinks he was doing the right thing. Help you get off the island by going down. - Oh, jeez, Harry, no. Which way did he go? Maybe I can stop him. THE WOODS � HARRY I didn't have to wait long. I took a random path, sensing that no matter where I went, it would appear. It did. When Augie encountered his dodecagon, he had extolled its beauty; he described the sensation of something crawling up his legs, invading his asshole and fucking him � even while none of this was visible to an observer. Even if it was just a sensation and not a person, if it would fuck me � it would be satisfying. Augie was right � it WAS beautiful. That six-foot chartreuse phallus � three words you've never before seen consecutively, I'll bet � was astonishingly striking. I understood how the others had been seduced by it. I was seduced by it. I wanted to be taken by it. I wanted to be fucked by it. I rushed to the dodecagon, hugged the phallus and waited. But my feet did not sink into the surface as if in a liquid. I felt no entity crawling up my leg. I felt nothing invading my ass. It seemed that not even the dodecagon wanted to fuck me. - Come on, dodecagon! Fuck me! And then I heard a voice. But it was not the dodecagon answering my plea. - Harry! Stop! Get away from there! Seth. And at that moment, my feet did sink into the surface, and I awaited the penetration, the welcome penetration. And I saw the momentary image of an animal � a pig, of course � which amused me as much as it embittered me. Seth was running at full speed, just as the dodecagon collapsed beneath my feet, sending me plunging into the depths below. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE � STIMULEVER FOREVER]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-47	Date: Thu, 27 Jun 2024 21:58:17 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 47 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN: THE RETURN OF SETH HERRICK Previously: * Gary and Ray (now simultaneously conscious) allow the yellow dodecagon to capture them; Seth awaits a red dodecagon to take him underground, where he hopes to rescue Abe. He is startled when Barry appears, supposedly sent by Hamish to escort Sean underground. Sean reveals that Seth, as Trigger Man, is not actually one of The Twelve � Barry is. When a red dodecagon appears, it takes Barry, leaving Seth perplexed. * Percy arranges a gang-bang for Abe on his `last day in this universe'. * Paul and Dai have branded themselves with each other's names, in hopes of reuniting in Alphaworld. * Miles and Jordan, now both eunuchs, are scheduled for execution. Barry could have spared them if he surrendered his cock, but, lacking assurance that it will be restored after The Project's launch, he declines. * `The physics' requires one of the Twelve to die, and another to be shot (non-fatally) with arrows. Augie and Tim, respectively, are penciled into these roles. However, when a disconsolate Harry volunteers to substitute himself for Jordan, Augie's death is no longer necessary. Harry puts his head on the block, but as he is about to be decapitated, a voice calls out: `Wait!' * * * * * * * * MONDAY, DECEMBER 31 * * * * * * * * THE THRONE ROOM � ABE A nice long train to pull, Percy had promised. All the lieutenants fucked me except Stefan, who "had a special duty to perform". That `duty', I was sure, was the execution of the three men who were slated to die today before Seth arrived: one of the Twelve, and the two who hadn't been on the plane. I was also to die today, at least in this universe � possibly everywhere. But not until after the return of Seth Herrick. The lieutenants were buzzing about a new arrival from the surface, but it was not Seth: It was someone named Onslow, who seemed to be peculiar in some way that I couldn't discern. No matter; Seth was all I cared about. From what Ian had told me, he must be alone on the surface . . . with Sean. Sean, whom I can't believe I had been stupid enough to sleep with for nearly six months. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SEAN Seth, having watched Barry swallowed up by the red dodecagon that had materialized inside the Phallic Tower, was � to say the least � bewildered. - What just happened? - Barry returned underground. It's just you and me now. Want to have sex? - Sean, are you fucking SERIOUS? - I'm always serious about fucking. - That dodecagon was supposed to take ME. Instead, it takes the fucking PILOT? Hamish's DOG? Were you lying to me about the red dodecagon? About all the dodecagons? Was all this a plot to get rid of everyone so you'd have me to yourself? - Don't be paranoid, Seth. I just thought before I left, we should fuck one last time. - Before YOU left? I'm the one who's supposed to leave, Sean. - You will. The red dodecagon will reappear. - Well, when it gets here maybe we can fuck on it and ride it down together. Would you like that? - Seth, don't be angry. I'm on your side. - Oh, really. - Okay, I lied to you about The Project. - Lie number eight hundred and fifteen. - Most of what I said is true. All the requirements � those were true. All the stuff about Betaworld, that was true. Al, Stan, Theo, Piers � they're all fine in Alphaworld. That's true. - Piers is dead, too? - Yes, but that's irrelevant. The point is � I want the Project to fail. - Hold on. You said the only way Abe and I could be together was if The Project SUCCEEDED. Now you want it to fail. Are you trying to break us up? - (Absolutely.) Absolutely not. If the Project succeeds, you and Abe will be split up. You can only be together is if it fails and you go back to your Alpha-lives in Cleveland. - You said if we did, Abe would die horribly within the next year. - He won't. I had to tell everyone their Alpha-lives would be awful, to get them to cooperate. - Sounds like you wanted the Project to succeed. - That's what I want it to SOUND like. More precisely, that's what I needed Jes�s to think. - Jes�s? Who's Jes�s? - The head of Stimulever. He sent me here to make sure everything went smoothly, that you did your daily fucks and gelded Jasper. I had to make Jes�s believe I was doing everything possible to ensure the success of The Project. - Well, you convinced me, anyway. - But all along I've been intending to sabotage it. This was my strategy, Seth. Make everyone here think The Project would benefit them, so that they would cooperate � and make Stimulever think everything was going according to plan. Though Lord knows it wasn't. - Meanwhile I was trying to mess with the physics � bringing Jordan and Miles here, keeping Stan alive, other things. But I had to be careful � it couldn't look deliberate. My fail-safe was always you, Seth. It's come down to that. You're the Trigger, you have the ultimate power. You're the only means I have left of bringing down The Project. - I still don't understand why you want to bring it down. - Because it's the only way you can be with Abe. I love you, Seth Herrick, but I realize you don't love me back. So all I can do is try to make you happy. And that means sabotaging the Project. That's why. That's not why. I'm sabotaging The Project so that I can avoid being stuck with Lesboworld, so that Jes�s will be disgraced and Ari (and I) can take over Stimulever and hence the universe, so that after Abe's untimely death, the aid and comfort I give to Seth will lead him home with me to Switzerland, where I will make him my slave for life. Which, after I inject him with the Methuselah serum, will be for centuries. The rest of what I said was true. I mean, Abe won't die HORRIBLY. . . . - When you arrive underground, they'll give you three tasks to do. The last one is the one that will launch the project. Don't do it. They'll try to convince you to do it, but they'll be lying. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH `They'll be lying'. Testimony of a proven liar. Who the fuck am I supposed to believe? Sean strode off. - Whoa, where are you going? - Underground. Jes�s is expecting me down there for the launch tonight. The one you're going to prevent from happening and in the process save Abe. - I'll go with you. - No. I'm going via the Egress Room, and you have a date with a red dodecagon. Any minute now. Was that another lie? EXECUTION CHAMBER � IAN With Barry off on the surface, I was the one kneeling between Hamish's legs to service him while he watched the execution. I was grateful for the view � I'd prefer Hamish's genitals to the sight of a head falling off. I had the horrible sense that his ejaculation would be timed for the very moment Harry's head dropped to the floor. I heard Stefan and Hamish taunting poor Harry. I heard Stefan raise the axe. And then a voice shouted, `Wait!' Hamish pushed me away. I looked around. Barry, on two feet, rushing into the room. Stefan, axe raised, poised to slice off Harry's head. But he hadn't. Yet. I wondered what was going on in Harry's mind. - (Hamish) What the fuck, boy? If you're rushing in here interrupting an execution, it had better be damned important. - (Barry) . . . That's not Jordan. - (Hamish) No. Jordan's ass is SMALLER than a refrigerator. Your powers of observation are unparalleled. So why did you come in here screaming `Wait'? - (Barry) I thought it would be Jordan. - (Hamish) And if it was? - (Barry) I was . . . going to give up my cock, to spare Jordan and Miles. If you promise me I'll get it back in Alphaworld. - (Hamish) The offer still stands. I'll spare Jordan and Miles if you surrender your cock. Barry didn't know that sparing Jordan was unnecessary � Harry volunteering had taken care of that. Miles, however, was still slated for the axe. I was intrigued by this dynamic. I wouldn't want anyone to lose his cock, but if it was only for a few hours and it would save Miles, I was for it. - (Percy) Sweetheart. - (Hamish) What now, Perce? - (Percy) Wasn't there something in one of the communications about someone volunteering to be castrated? That it might undo some of the requirements? I knew the answer to that. Percy and Hamish were rarely circumspect about letting their pets overhear their conversations, even their communications with Stimulever. Hamish knew this was true, but would he admit it? For Miles's sake, I had to speak up. - There was. I remember that. - (Hamish) What, BOTH of my dogs are now telling me what to do? - (Percy) You should at least check with Switzerland. Maybe not even Mancini has to die. It would be nice if The Project could come off without too many heads coming off, too. He smiled at his own joke, as serious as the topic was. - (Hamish) Okay, let Switzerland check the physics. Stefan, Uri, stay here with Mancini and Barry. Ian, come with me. We have to make a phone call. And we'll need to delay the red dodecagon. If we have to chop Mancini, it may need to be done before Herrick's arrival. And maybe you won't have to chop anyone at all. My estimation of Barry just increased by a thousand percent. On a scale from 1 to 10, he was now up to at least a 3. ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND � JES�S, two hours later - Thibaut, Dolph, what's the verdict? - (Dolph) Rather remarkable. If Russell sacrifices his cock, Stapleton, Murdock, King, Mancini � they'll all make it to Alphaworld. No heads need to roll this afternoon. - (Ari) Soft, Jes�s. - Ari. you'll have all the mayhem you crave in Warworld once we go live. - (Dolph) The chances of success are actually higher now than if we'd carried out the executions. 99.4% - IF Russell surrenders his sausage and IF Herrick follows through. - What happens in the multiverse? Do the eunuchs regain their manhood? - (Dolph) Murdock and King, yes. As for Russell � simulations vary. 56% say he gets his cock back, 44% say it's gone for good. - Well, we need him to go forward. We'll tell him it's 100% assured he gets it back. - (Ari) Ha! If he doesn't, what can he do about it? - Then it's full speed ahead. Let's get Herrick underground and start the final chapter. THE PHALLIC TOWER - SETH I had to laugh. If I thought they were being obvious when the red dodecagon appeared inside the Tower, what happened now made that look like the height of understatement. First, the tower disappeared. I wouldn't be sleeping in it tonight, so it wasn't needed anymore. So � poof! � it was gone in a metaphorical puff of smoke. And then, before me, the entire meadow seemed consumed by a giant red dodecagon. Not twelve feet across, as all the others had been. More like twelve times twelve METERS across, with a phallus the size of a sequoia. I looked around at the island, which I was convinced I was seeing for the very last time. I stepped onto the dodecagon, and strode slowly toward the phallus. Almost immediately, the dodecagon began to fold in on itself, tilting the sides toward the center until it resembled the shell of the world's largest taco salad. I could no longer walk; Its steep sides propelled me down toward the phallus and I started to roll. As I neared the center, the phallus retracted into the earth, opening a large hole, into which I tumbled. When I landed, I wasn't aware of having landed. I just WAS � in an unexpected location: the Throne Room. Where I was greeted by an equally unexpected sight: Ian, crouched in a corner, fitted out like Barry with a dog collar and a puppy-tail dildo. What the fuck? Ian had been demoted to Hamish's slave? Sean had said that Ian had returned underground voluntarily. Apparently, another of his lies. - Ian, what on earth happened to you? - Seth, turn around. - What? Why? - Just turn around. He didn't want me to see him like this? Okay. I turned around � and saw why he had said that. - I was wondering when you were going to notice me. - Abe. Oh my God, Abe. The next three minutes were spent caressing each other, hugging each other, kissing each other, exploring each other � not a word spoken. When we finally broke, I noticed the tears in his eyes. - Oh, God, Seth, I was praying you would come. - I'm here, babe. And I don't know how, but I'm going to get you out of here. He didn't respond. Just sank down to his knees, and then sat on the floor. I joined him and put my arm around his shoulders. He leaned over and put his head on my chest, and I cradled him. - Those don't look like tears of joy. - Seth, I don't know if you CAN get me out of here. - Let them try to stop me. - They stopped you before. They're planning to kill me, Seth. Tonight. - No. They won't. Sean promised me. I just have to sabotage this project of theirs. Then we can be together. And of course Sean's reputation for honesty was completely unsullied. But what did I have to go on? I had to save Abe. - They said I had to die, but I would still be alive in the other . . . oh, it's so complicated, Seth, you don't know what this place is � or do you? - I know about Alphaworld and Betaworld. They told you you'd have to die here, but you'd still be alive in the other universe. - That's exactly what Percy said. I don't know if he's telling the truth or not. - Join the club. - But he's fond of me, Seth. I don't think he'd lie. Unless . . . - Unless? - Unless he wants me not to worry so much. Like maybe if I think I'll still be alive in the other universe, I'd be calmer and accept it. - (Ian) Seth, do you know about Harry? A chill passed over me. When someone couches a question in such terms, it is never followed by good news. - What about Harry? - (Abe) Oh, God, it's awful. It's awful and noble at the same time. - Jeez, what? What about Harry??? - (Ian) He's probably dead by now. They were going to kill Jordan, and Harry volunteered to take his place. - No! - (Ian) I think he felt he had no place in Alphaworld, and at least he could save Jordan. Jordan doesn't exist in Alphaworld, so he'd really die. But then � so would Harry. I didn't get to know Harry that well, but he seemed like a good guy. - Dammit, Ian, not Harry. He doesn't know his worth. - (Ian) They wouldn't fuck him down here. It's all he wanted, Seth. All he wanted was to lose his virginity � but they wouldn't do it. They fuck the hell out of everyone else, but not him. They just made him watch. It was torture for him. - Wait, he WANTED them to fuck him? . . . You told me not to. You said he'd be humiliated if I chose him to fulfill my daily obligation. - (Ian) He did say that. But in retrospect, I think it was out of embarrassment � he didn't want to admit how much he really longed for you to fuck him. He had a crush on you, Seth. - Shit. Now I feel like a total asshole. - (Abe) Well, you're not. So pull yourself together and figure out how we're going to get out of this. - Sean said there were certain things I had to do. - (Sean) That's right. There are. I hadn't seen him come in. THE DORMITORY � ED - (Augie) I shouldn't have let him do it. - What, you want to die, Augie? You're young, you have a lot to live for, you still have a chance to find a nice woman who's actually a woman. Harry . . . Let's face it, Harry's useless. All he wants is someone to fuck him in the arse, and who's going to want to fuck an arse like that? - (Dai) Ed, shut it. - You shut it. Look, they said someone had to die, I think they picked the right one, that's all. Everyone's feeling sorry for `poor Harry' but he had no life in Alphaworld, you know that. - (Augie) Harry saved my life, Ed. - So be grateful there are still fools in the world. If someone's going to be that stupid, let them chop off his head. I can't stop them from doing that. Any more than I can stop Vic from going off on some rant about how I'm a racist. - (Vic) Which you are. - (Dai) Guys, please. This is our last day in this place. We don't know what's going to happen tomorrow. We might be dead. We might . . . Some of us have formed relationships that we don't know what's going to happen to them. The least we could do is pull together a bit. And . . . Paul?! Dai rushed over to Paul, who had dropped to the floor, as if he had fainted. Everyone else huddled around him. I looked over with concern and then saw Jasper grinning. But Jasper wasn't focused on Paul. Jasper was looking at the doorway. I turned around to see why. - (Harry) Hi, guys. THE THRONE ROOM � SEAN It was bound to be an awkward reunion, but it was worse than I had anticipated. They came at me from all sides. - (Seth) So I've discovered more of your lies, Sean. Like that Ian had volunteered to return. - (Ian) He tricked me into a penis garden. - (Seth) I figured it was something like that. - Ian's not exactly Mr. Integrity. He's responsible for Al's death � he fed Vic a pack of lies. - (Ian) I had to! You said it was the only way to save Stan! And then you killed Stan anyway! - Of course I did, after you led him back to me! I had to. Anyway, Stan's still alive, you know that. - (Ian) In Alphaworld! If this project of yours goes through, will I ever see Alphaworld again? - Well � - (Seth) Does Abe know your affair with him was simply part of your little scheme? - (Abe) I figured it out. The only thing you did right was set us up in the first place, me and Seth. - (Ian) Of course, that wasn't you, Sean, that was a guy named `Jude'. Another lie. - (Abe) Once Ian told me who `Jude' was, it all fit. It was too much of a coincidence Sean showing up at that concert at Blossom and then again on the island. - (Seth) So, Sean, what is this Project? I know it involves a parallel universe, but that's all I know. - It's a dozen parallel universes. And � - (Ian) A dozen! So I'm NOT ever going to see Alphaworld again. Or Stan. Ever. - SHIT! Will you give me a chance to explain? I'm trying my best to do what's right. For myself. - (Seth) Go ahead. Spin a few more strands in your web of lies. - Absolute truth, I swear it: The Project involves a dozen parallel universes. You wouldn't be happy in them. The people at Stimulever are sadists, they want to see people suffer. - (Abe) They're doing a good job of it here. - Exactly. This is a prototype, right? Imagine a dozen worlds where everyone is tortured. That's what I'm trying to save you from. Okay, `absolute truth' wasn't so absolute. - (Ian) You told me that if the project failed, we'd all live horrible lives. - (Ah, this again.) I had to say that. As I told Seth this morning, it's the opposite. I have to crash The Project (true) or else you WILL live horrible lives (false). If it fails, you'll just go back to Alphaworld (true). It's all coming to a climax at midnight. (Also true. See, MOST of what I said is true . . . ) - (Abe) Percy says I have to die in order to live. - I wouldn't trust Percy. There's three things you'll have to do, Seth. They haven't told me what they are, which is annoying as hell, but do the first two � it will lull them into a false sense of complacency. But whatever the third thing is, don't do it. Just don't do it. - (Abe) The anti-Nike. - (Ian) If Sean tells you NOT to do something, that's a good reason why you SHOULD do it. If you do what he wants, Seth, I'll never see Stan again. In Alphaworld I won't even know he exists. I won't remember being here at all, will I? Wait a minute � how can I go back to Alphaworld? I left for Martinique a year ago. Where am I supposed to have been all that time? - Not to worry, Ian. We've created cover stories for all the lieutenants, which will be implanted in your brains so realistically you'll think they actually happened. - (Ian) Oh yeah, and what'll that be? - You ran afoul of a corrupt police inspector in Martinique who jailed you on drug charges. Sadly, he wouldn't even let you communicate with anyone to let them know where you were. - (Ian) You can plant memories in my brain? - We can. You'll think you really spent a year in jail. You'll have great stories to tell. - (Ian) Can you implant a memory of a guy named Stan? And what would a nice guy like Stan be doing in a jail in Martinique? Really, Ian, be realistic. THE DORMITORY � HARRY They all rushed over to me, other than Paul, who had fainted, and Dai, engaged in reviving Paul. Even Ed gave me a big friendly handshake. - Yeah, I'm alive. A frown infiltrated Augie's face. - (Augie) Jordan . . .? - Jordan's safe. And Miles. They decided we could all live. I'm not sure why. - (Vic) You're sure they're not lying to you. - You can never be sure of that. But none of us are dead yet. - (Jasper) So you were really going to do it? What happened? - It was like out of a movie. Jasper, my head was on the chopping block, literally, and Stefan was raising the axe when suddenly Barry bursts in and says `Wait!' and says he'll give up his cock if it will save Jordan. - (Augie) BARRY? Barry was the hero? - (Gary) I thought YOU saved Jordan. - So did I. So DO I, but Barry didn't know that. I think I saved Jordan, but Barry saved ME. Two seconds later and my head would have been rolling across the floor. They contacted their headquarters in Switzerland and a couple of hours later, they said I was free to go. And that Barry and I between us had saved Jordan and Miles. And Augie. - (Tim) Barry . . . ? - They kept him in the room after I left. . . . Reach your own conclusions. THE THRONE ROOM � ABE - Sean, where are Hamish and Percy? - (Sean) I haven't actually seen them since my arrival. One of the lieutenants � Alfonso � - (Seth) That's Augie's lieutenant. - (Sean) Exactly. Alfonso said they were conducting an execution. He was thrilled because it wasn't Augie � it was supposed to be but they got a volunteer to replace him. Alfonso didn't know who it was. I don't either. - It's Harry. - (Sean) Harry? I guess that makes sense � he wasn't too happy up top. - Hamish and Percy � do you think they'll be gone for a while? - (Sean) Why? - Seth and I may have limited time together. - (Sean) And? - Opportunities don't grow on trees. - (Sean) You want me to leave? - (Seth) I always want you to leave. But, yeah, if you and Ian could give us some privacy . . . - (Ian) I can't leave the room without permission. But I won't watch. - Fuck me, Seth. - (Seth) With pleasure. To describe our lovemaking would be to undervalue it. Yes, the sensation of his talented cock in my well-used hole was like heaven. Yes, he was almost as talented a fucker as Barry, with a member nearly as large. Yes, he drove it into me like a jackhammer and I thrilled at every sensation. But enough of that. The connection � that's what it was all about. We were as a single entity � Sabe Herrisian, or Abeth Derrick, you could have fused our minds together as well as our bodies. The magic was back, and I wondered why (and if) it had ever really left in the first place. I guess it was my insecurity. When I first met Seth, I felt like I wanted to settle down, but I was afraid of `settling'. Was I giving up my freedom, didn't I want to try out different flavors of man and flit like a bee from one marigold to another? I knew it was time to grow up, but committing to one man was scary. If I grew too attached, and we split up, it would be painful. So I kept my options open � options that foolishly included a man named Sean O'Hara. The feel of Seth's body on top of � and inside � mine made me realize how right this was. But it was right for all the reasons beyond sex. It was right because Seth was a Good Man. What he had done for my father, what he had done to try to rescue me, the very fact that he proposed this trip out of fear of losing me � it all confirmed his devotion, the depths to which he would go to preserve our relationship. I might never meet anyone like that again. He was The One. How long would we have together? Possibly just a few minutes, when Hamish discovered us and kicked Seth out. Possibly only until tonight, when my life ended, either in Betaworld or completely. Possibly for less than a year, in the dire version of Alphaworld that Sean had projected, where I would die horribly before my next birthday. Possibly until my natural death � or Seth's, whichever came first. Which could be sixty years from now. Or twenty. FLASHBACK � ABE (CLEVELAND) � April, this year - Why so glum? - That phone call was my mother. - Your mother? Has there been a rapprochement? - Not as such, no. She . . . doesn't approve, she doesn't understand, but in her way, still loves me � in her mind, she'd forgive me for my sins. - The sin of being gay. - Basically. My father, never. He's the real reason I've never gone back since moving here. - So she called you. I don't remember that happening before. - It's been a while. She did call on my birthday last year � the same day as that party at Jason's. - So why did she call now? - She's falling apart. My father's going downhill. The doctors say a year, maybe two at most. I think she knew that, but this was the first time the doctor put a concrete time frame on it. - You've never talked about his illness. Is it cancer? - Huntington's. - Huntington's disease? There's no . . . I haven't been following the medical news � is there still no cure for that? - Still no cure for that. The air hung heavy. I knew the question he wanted to ask, the one I had been dreading for months. - Do you . . . ? - I don't know. - You haven't been tested. - No. There was the world's longest pause, as both of us tried to figure out what to say next. Huntington's was a degenerative disease for which the results were invariably fatal, and it was passed on genetically. There was a 50% chance I had inherited the mutation, and a 50% chance that I hadn't. For decades, the offspring of Huntington's victims had to decide whether or not to have children, uncertain whether they themselves had the dreaded gene, and might pass on this dreadful fate to their children. Now there was a test so you could know before you decided to procreate. Of course, I wasn't about to procreate. But I didn't know whether or not I would live past fifty. - I don't want to know, Seth. I'm scared. If I have it � then what? I'd feel doomed. I'd BE doomed. - Your father, did he - ? - It has nothing to do with our estrangement. He knew he had it, but he hated me because I was gay, not because he was bitter about dying. I think deep down he was relieved because he knew I wouldn't pass it on to his grandchildren � and both Gretchen and Kate tested negative. - What can I do? - Nothing. Except accept my apology. - Your apology? - Is it fair to start a relationship with someone who might have a limited lifespan? Is it fair to you to be involved with me? Maybe I shouldn't commit myself to a guy, maybe I should be out gathering rosebuds while I may. - I'd like to gather your rosebud, bud. - And so ye may. But this rosebud may wither and die before he runs out of pollen. - You've got plenty of pollen now. Could I have some, please? - Well, since you said `please' . . . THE THRONE ROOM � ABE Sean was another rosebud I wanted to gather. I was afraid to settle down with Seth. I think I knew then, back in April, even before that, that this was a man I wanted to spend my life with. But how could I commit to such a thing if I was going to up and die on him in twenty years or so � and force him to take care of me as I slowly deteriorated? I didn't want to think about it, and I was susceptible to Sean's easy seduction. But now I knew for certain that I wanted to spend whatever time I had left with Seth. And if that time was measured in years, and if I had the gene, we'd face it together. If I needed him to, he'd do for me what he did for my father, even if we had to move to Oregon to do it. If we got through this � if we got back to Alphaworld and Cleveland � I was going to get tested. It wasn't fair to him to spend years not knowing, wondering if we needed to accelerate our relationship bucket list or have the luxury of letting it spin out over decades. If we got through this. We had to get through this. Or die trying. THE THRONE ROOM � SETH I was spent � physically and emotionally � as I lay on top of Abe's body, my cock still inside him. Neither of us wanted the moment to end. Until I heard the unmistakable sound of Ian clearing his throat. I slowly withdrew my penis from Abe's perfectly-formed buttocks, and crouched on my knees before turning around to face him. And found myself facing Hamish, Percy, and Sean. - (Hamish) That wasn't on your agenda for today, Herrick. But I understand. When the bartender says `Last call', you want to order that final drink. I suppose we should let you shower now. We want you nice and clean for the festivities to come. - My three tasks. - (Hamish) Ah, so Sean has told you. Has he told you what they were? - (Sean) How could I? No one has told me. - (Hamish) Good. Well, one of the tasks involves sex, so I hope you haven't worn yourself out with Percy's little pussycat here. - Abe. . . .Will I ever see him again? Hamish just smiled. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT � THE THREE TASKS]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-5	Date: Sun, 4 Feb 2024 14:10:20 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 5 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER FIVE: THE PHALLIC TOWER Previously: * As the group (Seth, Harry, Augie, Ed, Cody, and the most recent addition, Vic) proceeds toward the `lighthouse', they find a mysterious yellow granite dodecagon (twelve-sided figure) on the forest floor, which causes Cody to go berserk, whip out his stiff cock and demand that someone blow him � preferably the religiously conservative Augie. He then declares himself to be Ray Onslow, not Cody Benson. * The group finds plane wreckage � only it's not from their plane. A boarding pass identifies it as ZTA Flight 4 from two years ago. Moreover, when they do reach the dome, they see that what they had hoped was a lighthouse is actually a tower shaped like a giant penis. * Harry, who is both attracted to Seth and admiring of his compassion and leadership skills, tries to help him solve the puzzle of the island. He notices a correspondence between the sites of Federal Reserve Banks (on a map that Cody found) and the group's hometowns. * Seth is searching for his boyfriend Abe (who we now know has survived), while the British knight, Ed, is searching for his son Leo. In flashbacks: * Abe reveals his disastrous second date with Seth, in which Seth fucks him in handcuffs, over his objections. Abe, while responsive physically, is enraged and resolves never to see Seth again. * Seth reveals that his series of boyfriends over the last few years had been an attempt to rebound from a man named Sean, who had hurt him in some way. His most recent boyfriend, prior to Abe, was named Ian. * A therapy session suggests that Cody has three personalities, including Ray and one named Gary. * * * * * * * * FLASHBACK: SETH (CLEVELAND) � November 24-25, a year ago The phone rang. - Hello? - Seth? - . . . Ian??? - . . . Yeah. Is it all right I called? - I . . . I'm not sure. It depends on why you called. - I just wanted to see how you were. Whether you've moved on. Seems like you have? - You're not trying to get us back together? - No. I've moved on. - Jude? - That didn't develop. We're just friends. I haven't moved on TO anybody, just � - From me. - (chuckling) Yeah. Listen, my friend Jason saw you at Studs and Stripes the other night. Said you left with a really cute guy. - He was. He is. Why do you care? - Because I care, Seth. Look, I'm still fond of you. And I want you to be happy. We could have been happy, together. Only � well, you know. . . . - I wasn't giving you what you wanted in bed. - You don't know who you are, Seth. You're a natural dom. You think because of what Sean did - - Leave Sean out of this � - - that you have to hold back, that you can't � - Leave Sean out of this. I'm sorry I even told you about him. - Okay, I get it. So tell me about the guy you were with. How'd it go? Are you seeing him again? - Tonight, in fact. - Ah, so there's a there there. So you liked Abe? - You know his name? - Jason knows him. He said he goes for stronger types � he saw him volunteer at a slave auction. - . . . Really? - My friend Jude's a psychologist. He says you should be aggressive with Abe. - He knows Abe? - No, but he knows the type. Be aggressive, Seth. Show him who's boss. Jude thinks he'll like that. I should never have listened to Ian. I showed Abe who was boss, all right. I cuffed him and fucked him even after he objected. I thought he was playing a role. Br'er Fox, whatever you do, don't throw me in the briar patch. Well, he wasn't playing a role. He left before I was even out of the shower. I called Ian the next day. - Oh, shit, really? You didn't, Seth. - You told me to be aggressive. - Aggressive doesn't mean handcuffs. Where'd you get handcuffs anyway? - Sean left them. I never threw them out. - You haven't learned the lesson of the "Me, Too" movement. No does mean no. You can persuade, you can wheedle, but if he says `no', you have to respect that. - Shit. I guess I don't have enough experience to know when someone is teasing and when he's sincere. I really blew it. And the thing is, Ian. I like him. I mean, I REALLY like him. - Then you can't give up. - Oh, come on. After that? If he sees my name on his phone he won't answer it. - Ah, so he put you into his phone. A good sign. This might be redeemable, Seth. - How? - Let me think about that. Like I said, Jude's a psychologist. He might have some ideas. * * * * * * * * SATURDAY, DECEMBER 1 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � HARRY One of Seth's theories was that he was dreaming all of this. I was beginning to wonder if I wasn't dreaming this up myself. A plane full of hot men, everyone seemingly either gay or homophobic, a crazy person insisting that one of us blow him, and now this giant phallus � was it all a product of my vivid imagination, stemming from my own issues with homosexuality? Mind you, I had no issues with accepting myself as gay. I knew it when I was fourteen. I had issues with other people accepting me as gay. No, Harry, this is real, and it's a puzzle to be solved. The map is a clue. Seth's nudity is a clue. The yellow dodecagon that drove Cody berserk is a clue. The wreckage of ZTA Flight 4 is a clue. And this giant penis is the biggest clue of all. And then I saw the door. - It's not just a sculpture. There's a door. - (Seth) Maybe it is really a lighthouse? - Then where's the light? It seems closed up top, like � - (Ray, cackling) Like a cockhead. - Yeah, like a cockhead. - (Seth) We've got to go inside. - (Ed) You want to go inside a giant penis? That doesn't strike you as � well, rather perverted? - We came all this way to see what this was, see if it can get us off the island. We're going to stand around outside and admire it? - (Ray) I'm admiring it. It's the only penis I've seen that's bigger than mine. - (Seth) Harry's right. There's a door. Maybe there are people inside who can help us. How will we know unless we go in? It's a building, Ed. It's not perverted to go inside a building, no matter what it's shaped like. - (Ray) Maybe it's an amusement ride. There's a shaft inside that will shoot you out the top. The orgasm of your dreams! - (Seth) You're not being helpful. - (Ray) Yeah, sorry, I'm just horny. (Looking at Augie) You could help with that, you know. - (Augie) I'm not going in there. - (Ray) Fine, you and me can stay out here and have fun. - (Seth) All right, guys. Stop thinking of it as a giant penis and think of it as just a building. Maybe there's someone inside. We're going in. The wind picked up. - I think it's going to storm. - (Seth) And we've just found shelter. A timely find. - Unless it's locked. Seth led us toward the door � which wasn't locked. He stepped inside, followed by Vic and Ray. Ed and Augie were reluctant to go in. I stayed at the back of the group, to encourage Augie (there was no trying to influence a British knight, he would make up his own mind). But the two of them surged forward the moment we heard voices. Voices. Joyous voices. Seth was right � there was someone inside. I rushed inside the phallus. There were two remarkable sights. I don't know which to describe first. Let me start with the interior of the phallus. (No, there was no amusement ride that would shoot us out the top like an orgasm.) It was as light as the interior of a room full of windows � but there were no windows and no visible light fixtures. I couldn't understand why it wasn't totally dark. The walls were decorated with the same colored stripes as the exterior, shading from red to yellow to blue back to red, in gradations. A dozen colors in all. On the floor was a dodecagon � a polygon with twelve sides. The shape we had encountered in the forest that had prompted Cody's bizarre behavior. But that one had been solid yellow. This was divided into twelve wedge-shaped segments, like slices of pizza if the crust, instead of being round, had straight sides. Each wedge was a different color, in the same order as the stripes along the wall. That, however, was of secondary importance. The main thing was that the room was not empty. There were five men inside. Five men who had been seated on the right side of the plane. We had found the others. Alive. If Amazon had held a sale on hugs, it would not have been more successful than what was going on inside that � well, let me call it a room. High-fives abounded. Permutations of "Boy, am I glad to see you" and "I thought you guys were dead" spiraled around the room. I refrained from hugging, wishing to avoid an erection � but bumped fists a couple of times. Not everyone was filled with joy. There was one crestfallen face � Ed's. We had found five men in this room. There should have been six. I went over to him. - (Ed) He's not here. Leo's not here. Why the hell isn't he here? It was my first hug. I put my arms around him, but � why am I surprised � he pushed me away from him. Whether he didn't want to be hugged by a gay guy or he was repulsed by me in particular, I didn't know. - He'll show up, Ed. He got separated, probably. We were all separated, right? We still found each other. But he'll show up. It was drawing us here, Ed. - It wasn't drawing me here. I was just staying with the group. - This place � I don't know how to say this, it sounds too weird � but it wanted us to come here. - . . . That's crazy. - Yeah, it is. But Leo will come. I feel certain of it. - Unless he's the one person who didn't survive. What am I going to tell Beatrice if � - Do you want to go out with me and look for him? I think it would be easier for him to find us than for us to find him, but if you want � - I feel useless just staying here. Maybe � A clap of thunder interrupted us. - (Ed) Bloody hell, now the storm is really coming. And he's out there. - So he'll be seeking shelter, won't he? You can see this thing from quite a ways away. He'll come here to get out of the storm. You don't want to go out looking for him in the middle of a thunderstorm. - No, you're right. Wait till the storm is over, then we'll see. - He might be here by then. If he's still alive. Introductions commenced. The new guys were Jasper Adena, Tim Fallon, Lucas Heidekker, Paul Eton and Daisuke Omi. They all had one thing in common � they made my hormones go crazy. Especially the three guys in their thirties � Lucas, Jasper and Daisuke. Lucas was hyper-masculine, full of swagger and with a body to die for. Not with the muscularity of Seth or Vic, but solidly built, hairy-chested, and, looking below the belt, appearing every inch the stud. I meant `every inch' literally. I hoped he was straight, as if he was gay I was going to covet him. Jasper was on the short side but oozing testosterone, and dressed elegantly, in a silk shirt � I felt like his chest was going to be a wall of fur if he took it off. How I longed to run my fingers through it. He seemed to be a collection of hormones held in by skin. I could imagine him out clubbing every night and never going home unescorted � but by which gender I couldn't tell. Daisuke ("call me Dai") looked gay to me, but Asian guys were hard to suss � apologies if this is subconsciously racist. He was about 5'9", and had an ass I was jealous of. Tim looked a couple of years older than me, with a beak-like nose that made him look vaguely avian. Tallish, with an athletic body and masculine enough that, as the saying goes, I wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating crackers. Reminder, Harry: (a) he probably isn't gay, and (b) even if he was, he wouldn't be in YOUR bed. Paul was probably only 25, but already balding � which looked good on him. It was hard to assess how sexy he was, given the baggy T-shirt and sweat pants he was wearing. He was another whose sexuality was hard to assess. He was an inch or two shorter than Dai. We exchanged stories. Seth explained how we had met each other, one by one, and set our sights on the tower, hoping to find people who could help rescue us. He was uncomfortable relating that he had awakened in the nude, but when you walk into a place wearing nothing but an ill-fitting vest and a pair of briefs, it warrants explanation. He just said that someone had stolen his clothes, and that Ed and Augie had generously donated what little he was wearing. He left out some notable details, like the yellow dodecagon that made Cody/Ray go nuts, and the mysterious map. Which reminded me. - Where are you guys from? - (Dai) San Francisco. - (Tim) St. Louis. - (Lucas) Chicago. - (Jasper) New York. - (Paul) Richmond. Bingo. One-to-one correspondence with the cities on the map. I looked at Seth. Seth looked at me. He had taken notice. His nod said, yeah you were right, Harry. I don't know what it means, but you were right. Dai Omi told the story for the five of them. They had likewise awakened separately and found each other one by one, drawn to the phallic tower without knowing why. Had they seen the wreckage of the airplane? Yeah, they had. But it wasn't our plane. It had red seats. RED seats? They'd found a boarding pass. It said ZTA Airlines Flight 7, from September of last year. There was now no doubt in my mind. Either we were all dead, I was dreaming, or there were supernatural forces at work here. None of the options comforting at all. But then, life was full of non-comforting options, wasn't it? FLASHBACK: HARRY (DEVON, PENNSYLVANIA) � twelve years ago What did I know? I went on Grindr. It was foolish, but it was the only dating app for gays I'd ever heard of. I didn't post a picture. I listed my age as 18, overshooting it by three years. My profile was pretty vague. NEW TO THE SCENE. PHILADELPHIA AREA. NEED A GUIDING HAND. ANXIOUS TO HAVE YOU PLUMB MY DEPTHS. Yeah, I got responses. I knew they wouldn't be from guys my age, because guys my age weren't supposed to be on Grindr. I figured I would screen out anyone over 30 or so, or anyone who came on too aggressively. I didn't respond to those. But one guy seemed interesting. His profile name was NICENEASY2, which sounded comforting. - HEY, HARRY. (Yeah, I used my real name, dumb.) HOW ARE YOU FEELING TODAY? - I'M GOOD. (Good and nervous. Okay, admit it.) A BIT NERVOUS. - BECAUSE YOU'RE NEW TO THE SCENE? - YEAH. - WHEN YOU SAY `NEW', DO YOU MEAN LIKE TOTALLY NEW? - YEAH. - THAT MUST BE SCARY. YOU'VE GOT TO BE VERY CAREFUL ON AN APP LIKE THIS. THERE ARE A LOT OF BAD DUDES ON HERE. - I KNOW THAT. I'M CAUTIOUS. - THAT'S GOOD. SO WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING FOR? - TO BE HONEST, I JUST WANT TO HOOK UP WITH SOMEONE. SOMEONE NICE. SOMEONE WHO'LL BE PATIENT WITH ME. - LIKE A MENTOR? - EXACTLY. I WANT TO GET INTO THE GAY WORLD AND I DON'T REALLY KNOW HOW. - IT'S VERY INTIMIDATING WHEN YOU'RE JUST STARTING. - WAS IT SCARY FOR YOU? - OH, YEAH. I THINK IT'S SCARY FOR EVERYONE THE FIRST TIME. HARRY, IF IT'S YOUR FIRST TIME, YOU'VE GOT TO PICK THE RIGHT GUY. DON'T RUSH INTO THIS TOO FAST. - (Okay, take a deep breath and go for it.) DO YOU THINK MAYBE YOU'RE THE RIGHT GUY? - MAYBE. I THINK WE SHOULD CHAT MORE FIRST BEFORE WE MEET, THOUGH, DON'T YOU? - YEAH. Totally reassuring. He wasn't some kind of sexual predator. And when he saw how young I was, he would understand, wouldn't he? I'd be discreet, I wouldn't get in trouble, I'd tell him I always looked young for my age, okay I was only seventeen and not technically old enough to be on Grindr, but it was only one year (cutting my lie from three years to two years, that wasn't so bad, was it?) and it wasn't like he was picking up some little boy. - DO YOU LIKE MY PICTURE? - (Did I!) YEAH. - YOU DIDN'T POST YOURS. - I'M SHY. AND I DIDN'T WANT ANYONE TO SEE IT. I'M NOT EXACTLY OUT. I DON'T WANT PEOPLE TO KNOW I'M GAY UNTIL I'VE ACTUALLY DONE SOMETHING GAY. - BEING ON GRINDR IS SOMETHING GAY, HARRY. - YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. - YOU MEAN YOU WANT TO HAVE SEX. - WELL, AT LEAST KISS OR SOMETHING. I MEAN, YEAH, I WANT TO HAVE SEX, BUT IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE THE FIRST THING. - SECOND THING? - LOL. IT DEPENDS ON THE DUDE. Spoken way more mature than I was. Like I had thought this all out. - COME BACK TOMORROW, HARRY. BUT POST YOUR PICTURE. IF YOU'RE GOING TO COME OUT, YOU HAVE TO COME OUT. - I DON'T KNOW. - AND IF I'M GOING TO BE YOUR MENTOR, I'M GOING TO SEE YOU ANYWAY. I wanted him to be my mentor. God, I wanted him to be my mentor. I'd seen his picture; he was way out of my league (not that I had a league). I knew the only way I could get him to pay attention to me was if he felt he was helping me. It wouldn't be because he was attracted to me. It would be like doing a good deed, helping a shy teenager out of the closet, helping me overcome my fears. If I could just get this guy to accept me, to like me for who I was, then maybe it was possible. Maybe other people would like me, too. Maybe . . . maybe it would just be something I could do. If I could just get past this hurdle. I knew I wasn't going to get anywhere with the kids in my high school. I had to take this risk. I posted the picture. - NICENEASY, I DID WHAT YOU SAID. - YEAH, YOU DID HARRY. A LITTLE SOMETHING YOU DIDN'T MENTION. - I TOLD YOU, I LOOK YOUNG FOR MY AGE. - THAT WASN'T IT. YOU'RE FAT, HARRY. - (Wow, body slam.) YEAH, KINDA. - KINDA? LISTEN, KID, NOBODY'S GOING TO WANT YOU LOOKING LIKE THAT. IF YOU WANT TO COME OUT, YOU'D BETTER LOSE THAT WEIGHT. - I THOUGHT MAYBE � YOU SEEM LIKE A NICE GUY, I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT TAKE SOME PITY AND HELP ME OUT. - PITY? HARRY, DID YOU GO ONTO GRINDR LOOKING FOR A CHARITABLE INSTITUTION? THERE HAS TO BE SOMETHING IN IT FOR ME, TOO, YOU KNOW. I SPECIALIZE IN VIRGINS. I LIKE TAKING A GUY'S CHERRY AND I CAN DO IT NICE AND SLOW AND I CAN MAKE HIM FEEL GOOD ABOUT IT. BUT IT HAS TO FEEL GOOD FOR ME, TOO. I DON'T GO AROUND FUCKING LITTLE FATTIES JUST TO MAKE THEM FEEL BETTER. NOW FUCK OFF. After my picture went up the only responses I got were from guys who hurled snarky insults at me. - OBVIOUS WHY YOU'RE STILL A VIRGIN, FAT BOY. - NEW TO THE SCENE? YOU'RE NOT NEW TO THE DINNER TABLE. - YOU WANT TO GET STUFFED? LOOKS LIKE YOU ALREADY ARE. - IF YOUR DICK IS AS FAT AS YOUR ASS, YOU MUST BE A STUD. - HARRY THE HIPPO! GO FIND SOME MUD TO WALLOW IN. - LET THE INNER YOU COME OUT. THEN YOU MIGHT BE THE SIZE OF ONE PERSON, NOT TWO. I stayed firmly in the closet all through high school. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER SIX � HUNTING AND GATHERING]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-2	Date: Mon, 29 Jan 2024 17:09:23 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 2 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel. CHAPTER TWO � THIS IS NOT ARUBA [Author's note: As the plot is complex, and you probably aren't reading this continuously, I will remind you of prior developments relevant to each upcoming chapter, much like the intro to TV series with continuing stories. They often begin with the following word:] Previously: En route from Miami to Aruba, American Airlines flight 462 is diverted to a small airport in the Turks and Caicos. Since repairs to the plane will take a full day, a regional carrier, Zen Tropical Airways, agrees to take the passengers � but its plane is smaller and can't accommodate everyone. Twenty-four `leftovers', all male and mostly young, are put on a second plane, ZTA Flight 12, which encounters violent turbulence and breaks apart, sending the passengers plummeting to a watery grave. The End. Oh, wait � there's a chapter two? Better read on, then. Among those on board were: * Seth Herrick, en route to a long weekend in Aruba both to celebrate his boyfriend's birthday and to rekindle their relationship, recently under some strain; * Abe Derisian, said boyfriend, sitting across the aisle; * Harry Mancini, a gay man afraid of rejection because of his weight; * Sir Edward Niemann, the only passenger past his mid-thirties; at odds with * Leo Niemann, his 19-year-old son; * Barry Russell, the pilot (who moonlights as a bdsm dom), who has been ordered by a mysterious man to pilot Flight 12 � he's not sure why, but has been threatened severely enough to ensure compliance; * four men who won't be mentioned in this chapter: o Percy, the Jamaican flight attendant; o Stan Kowalczyk, a married man bizarrely pressured by Percy to switch seats with o a man named Onslow; o Al Casey, Stan's new seatmate, a young Costco clerk; * * * * * * * * SATURDAY, DECEMBER 1 * * * * * * * * LOCATION UNKNOWN � SETH I opened my eyes. I was lying on my back looking up at palm trees. What the fuck? A moment ago � it seemed � I had been paralyzed with fear as the plane broke apart. The entire left half had shorn off, inches from my seat, pulling Abe's hand out of mine. Each half spiraled downward, accelerating us toward our imminent demise. But before I hit the ocean's surface, I blacked out. And now I was here. Conscious. On dry land. I seemed intact, nothing broken. I touched my face, where my carry-on had hit me and broken the skin. No red on my fingers. It felt perfectly smooth. I sat up, slightly dizzy, and pondered my fate. How on earth could I have survived without apparent injury? It took me a moment to realize that there was another mystery � less existential, but equally incomprehensible: Why was I naked? I was in a grove of trees, on sandy soil. Sunlight glinted through gaps in the leaves. Sunlight? The plane had broken apart at nine at night. I must have been unconscious for a long time. I sat there, taking in my surroundings, totally bewildered by (1) my existence, (2) my lack of injury, and (3) my nudity. I decided to analyze my three problems, one at a time. Problem 1: my existence. I would have been hurtling toward the earth at such a speed that death would be instantaneous � and certain. Where was the seat I had been strapped into? Neither it nor any part of the plane was in sight. Either it was a miracle, or I was dead and in some sort of afterlife. I didn't believe in an afterlife. And dammit, I FELT alive! I wanted to be alive, I needed to be alive. I CAN'T be dead. So Problem 1 decided by arbitrary proclamation: I'm alive, because I refuse to be dead. Q.E.D. Problem 2: my lack of injury. Uh . . . skip that one. Address it later. Problem 3: my nudity. Honestly, if I were dead, nudity would make sense. Clothing is an invention of society; our actual selves are just our bodies. In an afterlife, my soul might very well be unclothed. It was, I hated to say, the most logical explanation. Shit. Seeking alternatives. The fall could not have removed my clothes, so someone must have stripped me while I was unconscious. Ergo, there are people around. Ergo, I could be rescued. If I'm alive. (Which I AM, see Problem 1 above.) And if I'm alive . . . maybe Abe is alive. Whether I'm in this world or the next, there must be others. Time to go find them. The sandy soil suggested a beach; through a gap in the trees I could see a hint of ocean beyond. I forged a path in that direction, which indeed led to a beach. Hoping beyond hope that when I got there, I would see the others, all safe. And one particular other, all safe. I reached the beach and saw a particular other. Sadly, not MY particular other, but someone I recognized: Harry, the fat guy. He was fully clothed, which put the kibosh on the `I must be dead because only our naked souls go to the afterlife' theory. That was good news � I think. - Seth?- Harry! - Omigod, I'm so glad it's not just me. - Have you seen anybody else? I'm looking for my boyfriend. - The dude with the kindle? No. I haven't seen anyone. But I just woke up. - Me, too. Some kind of miracle, I guess. - What happened to your clothes? - (well, this was embarrassing) I don't know. I just woke up like this. That's like the fifth thing on my mind right now. I'm too confused. Like � where are we? - We must be in the middle of the Caribbean. Somewhere I can't get a signal. The battery's not dead, but there's no hint of a bar. - Yeah, well my phone is wherever my pants are. But it's logical that you wouldn't get a � - (a voice) Hey! - Harry, what was that? - Someone else! - (the voice) Anyone there? I thought I heard voices! I didn't see anyone else, but in a couple of minutes someone stumbled through the trees onto the beach. He wasn't naked either. - Praise the Lord, I'm not the only one! I assessed him. Young, awkward, the kind of guy who looked tall without actually being tall. Maybe nineteen. I'd seen him in the Cockburn airport with a young woman who must have gotten onto the direct flight. My gaydar said `straight', anyway, but that was the furthest thing from my mind at the moment. Well, if I thought about it, I guess it wasn't the furthest thing. He trotted over to us, then looked away from me, addressing Harry. - (new guy) What happened? - (Harry) We don't know. - Before you ask, I'm not a nudist. I woke up naked. Someone took my clothes, and it's not funny. - (new guy) Nothing's funny. I mean � how did we survive? - Maybe we didn't. Seth, you're alive, remember? Doubts creeping back in? Yep. - (new guy) What do you mean, maybe we didn't. - Maybe we're dead. Maybe this is heaven or something. I don't really believe in heaven, but � - (new guy) You don't? . . . I should introduce myself. I'm Augie. Augie Stapleton. - (Harry) Harry Mancini. - Seth Herrick. - (Augie) You were on the right side of the plane. - Yeah, both of us. - (Augie) If we survived, maybe others did, too. From our half, anyway. He had to add in that last bit, a dagger to my heart. Why had the flight attendant insisted on seating Abe on the left? He said he didn't mind. And we were right across from each other, so we could easily talk � it seemed immaterial at the time. And now it was material as hell. - My boyfriend was on the left half. - (Augie) Boyfriend? . . . Oh. Augie gave me a startled look. He wasn't expecting my open declaration of being gay. And he didn't look any too happy about it. FLASHBACK: SETH (CLEVELAND) � November 20, a year ago - Hi. - Hi. - Come here often? - Wow, what an original pick-up line! - Is it working? - Are you trying to pick me up? - Not yet. I'm trying to engage you in conversation. - Ah, conversation. That's what you're interested in. - I would imagine a lot of guys approach you because you look so articulate. - Possibly, but you're the first one to actually say so. - It's my X-ray vision. I can see through your pretty face into your brain. I haven't seen you here before. - I haven't seen YOU here before. - Ah, so you do come here often. - Actually, it's my first time. That's why I haven't seen you here before. - That would explain it. Seth Herrick. - Abe Derisian. - Derisian, interesting. Could I ask you something? - It's Armenian. - Not what I was going to ask. - Abe is short for Abraham. - That wasn't it either. Want to dance, Abe? - I'm not a good conversationalist when I'm dancing. - You're not overwhelming me right now. But I'll bet you can dance up a storm. I was on the rebound. I was on the rebound from Ian, who was my rebound from Ysidro, who was my rebound from Caleb, who followed Cole, Raj, and Dieter, who individually weren't around long enough to have to rebound from, but were all an attempt to rebound from Sean, who had started it all. Sean, from whom I needed a big rebound. Sean, who had ruined my life � and maybe rescued it at the same time. Abe, like the others, was younger than me. Sean was older, and I wanted someone who reminded me of him as little as possible. Some were twinks, particularly the Cole-Raj-Dieter triad. Ysidro, Caleb � I was fooling myself that there was anything real there. Ian could have worked out, if not for some sexual issues. But we were still friends. So here I was in Studs & Stripes looking for the next iteration of Mister Right. Abe probably wasn't it, but he was hot and looked smarter than the average sex object. It was Seventies night, and we gyrated to Donna Summer and the Beegees and Sister Sledge and, yes, he could dance up a storm. And raise a storm in my pants. I noticed other guys looking at us, hoping they were thinking "Wow, what a hot couple � they look perfect for each other." When they were probably thinking, "One night stand at best." After all, that's all that most of them were seeking. - So, Abe, how do you engage that fabulous brain I've been admiring so much on the dance floor? - I'm studying for my doctorate at Case Western. - Impressive. In what? - Biometrics. And you? - I have a boring office job. - Hmm, figured you for like a physical trainer. - Actually, I do a form of physical training as a hobby. With men. At night. - I see. What kind of physical training? - I concentrate on training certain parts of their body, using a certain part of mine. - Hmmm. Need any more clients? - Interested? - I think my mouth needs a workout. - (smiling) I believe I can fit you into my schedule. I have an opening tonight. - I have two openings. Both available tonight. - Well, Mister Abraham Doctoral Student, do you see any reason to hang around this joint any longer? - You don't want to find out more about my brain? - Your brain is in your head. Just past that opening that needs a good workout. THE BEACH � SETH - (Augie) So you like � just woke up naked? - Yep. - (Harry) Listen, Seth, if you want something to wear - I could go commando, give you my boxers, but � they're so big, I don't think they'd stay up. - (Augie) Mine might fit. Your hips are wider than mine, they might be a little tight, but you know, if you wanted . . . - Well, I have no shame about nudity � but when you guys are wearing clothes, it IS a bit weird. So Augie, if it's okay? - (Augie, uncomfortably) Uh, yeah, sure. No problem. Would you mind, like, turning around? Really? Here I am, in the buff, and he's afraid to undress in front of me? Is it because he knows I'm gay? By now I've sussed Harry as gay, but Augie (yes, I'm sure he was with a girlfriend) seemed straighter than a gutter at a bowling alley. His accent suggested Texas. I decided to find out. - (facing away from him) Where you from, Augie? - Dallas. Told ya. A couple of minutes later, having redonned his khakis, he handed me his briefs. I slipped them on. They were snug, but wearable. - Thanks, Augie. - Thanks for turning around. I don't like undressing in front of other men. - You haven't been in a locker room? - (Augie, turning red) Well, yeah, in PE. I don't like it, though. I don't like seeing other guys' junk. I did. FLASHBACK: SETH (CLEVELAND) � November 20, a year ago (continued) - Wow. Nice place. - Thanks. - And you have a view. - It came with the windows. - You afford this on a boring office job? - Boring, but well-paying. But your future's bright - biometrics has got to pay well, right? - It does. But I don't think I'm going to do biometrics for my career. - What? After a Ph.D.? - The only reason I'm not leaving grad school is because I'm too stubborn to quit. I just want to get this damn thing over with and then find something fun to do with my life. Like acting. - I see. - Unfortunately, I have a mound of student debt. - Oh, well, acting will take care of that. Just the tips from waiting tables should do it. - That's what I figure. So tell me about your job. I was a mid-level manager for an investment firm. It paid well, but it was truly boring and took up far too much of my time. Not what I wanted to talk about, mid-seduction. Time for a diversionary tactic. - Can I get you a drink? - Ah. Preliminaries. Sure, get me drunk, I'm easier when I'm a little tipsy. - How hard are you when you're sober? - Rock hard. But I'm hard when I'm tipsy, too. - When you're tipsy you're both easy and hard. - Yep. Spot the paradox? - Not really a paradox. What's your poison, as the clich� goes? - Gin and tonic. Easy on the tonic if you want to get me tipsy. - (with a smile) One gin and tipsy coming up. - Gin and tipsy. I like that. I disappeared into the kitchen and made the drinks. I'm rather ecumenical about alcohol � I'll drink just about anything. So I always have whatever my guest has. After making the drinks, I left my clothes in the kitchen and walked back into the living room in the nude. He burst out laughing. - Does that mean I should guzzle it? - No, but you might want to be similarly attired while we enjoy our refreshments. - For a man without an original pick-up line, you sure are capable of surprises. - On the contrary. What you see is what you get. And I wanted you to see what you're going to get. In a minute he was as naked as I was, and we sat together, our bodies touching. My left hand held my drink. My right hand teased his cock, which stiffened; this was going to be a piece of cake. - I have a suggestion for your biometrics dissertation. - Yes? - You should do it on penis recognition technology. - I'd need to conduct some experiments for that. - Let me contribute to your database. I polished off my drink, slapped him on the thigh, and grabbed him by the cock as if to pull him up by it. He grinned, stood up willingly, and followed me to the bedroom. I gave his mouth a workout, all right. He proved he was no student when it came to cocksucking � he was a skilled connoisseur, and drank every drop with relish. Both times. I reciprocated, once. In the morning, he punched his number into my phone. - About my dissertation . . . - Yes. - I think penis recognition technology might be employed by mapping it to certain regions of the tongue. There are possibilities there. - What about anal recognition of a penis? - I'd need more data. - Saturday? - . . . Saturday. (Yeah, he hesitated.) - You'll want to do proper research. Bring your anus. - I'll make a note of that. THE BEACH - SETH We split up and searched the nearby woods for other survivors. I found one. .Medium height, fit, with the well-chiseled good looks of a doctor or lawyer on a television series. Wearing a three-piece suit, minus the jacket. His graying hair placed him in his forties or low fifties. His identity was obvious: - You're the British knight. Sir Edward something. - (startled) Am I famous? - I heard you give your name at the airport. - Ah. Yes. Ed Niemann. Looking for my son. - Seth Herrick. Looking for my boyfriend. - Boyfriend? So you're � ah. So is Leo, I'm afraid. `I'm afraid.' Ouch. This explains at least some of the tension between father and son at the airport. - I haven't seen Leo. - You think he could have survived? Frankly, I don't know how I did. - Neither do I. But there's at least four of us. - Brilliant. Are they as underdressed as you? - No, they have clothes. Somehow I woke up nude � these shorts are a loaner. - You shouldn't parade around like that. Would you like my weskit? - Your what? - My weskit. Left my jacket on the plane, it's gone, but I can spare this. Something clicked. `Weskit' = waistcoat. I'd seen it in books. British for `vest'. Attired in boxer shorts and weskit (which didn't fit, but made me look less naked), I went back to the beach and introduced Ed to Harry and Augie. By the position of the sun, we were on the east coast of an island. I looked south. Long stretches of sand, nothing of interest. We couldn't see much to the north, as the land curved west, out of sight. Who knows what's behind what you can't see? So we headed that way. THE BEACH - AUGIE I was shocked when Seth said he had a boyfriend. This looked more like heaven than hell, which was reassuring. But Pastor Markson had made it clear that all homosexuals went to hell, and here was Seth in the same place as me. Had I gone to hell, too? I had my sins, like anyone. I'd always hoped they wouldn't be enough to send me to hell, and I had repented the worst one, hadn't l? But when the plane was going down, I should have taken the time to repent my sins. I didn't. I was too scared. All I could think about was omigod-I'm-going-to-die. I should have been praying. If I'm dead, I died with unrepented, unforgiven sins. Maybe that was enough to send me to hell. Or maybe, when we were going down, Seth had repented for the sin of homosexuality and God had forgiven him. Aside from being queer, Seth seemed like a decent guy. My mind was twisted in knots. I'd talked myself into hell and Seth into heaven. And here we were, together. Limbo? That never made sense to me. God wasn't wishy-washy; He wouldn't need to keep you in some kind of holding pen until He made up His mind. If this was an afterlife, then Seth and I were either both in heaven or both in hell. But maybe we were still alive - that's what Harry seemed to think. In a way, it didn't matter. Alive or dead, we still had to figure out where to go and what to do. We passed the bend, hoping to find others. We didn't. But we saw something in the distance to the northwest, poking over the top of the trees. Something round and multi-colored. - (Harry) What's that? - (Ed) It's curved, like a dome. - (Seth). Hallelujah. A man-made structure on this island. - Are you sure this is an island? This might be, like, Nicaragua. - (Harry) Impossible, Augie. Central America's like a thousand miles from here. This is definitely an island. - (Ed) I'm not aware of any islands between Hispaniola and Aruba. And I got a first in geography. - (Seth) Nevertheless we are on one. And that dome's a sign of civilization. There are people on this island. - (Ed) Or were. - (Seth) We've got to keep going until we find them. - (Harry) Then hopefully we can get out of here. - And send messages. My girlfriend's probably sick with worry. - (Ed) At least your story will eventually have a happy ending. You're both still alive. If Leo's dead, my wife will never forgive me. - (Seth) If Abe's dead, I'll never forgive myself. The structure was inland. Seth suggested we just follow the beach until we were even with it, and then cut directly west. It would be easier than trying to take a direct path through the woods � particularly for him, he had no shoes. Before we reached the dome, we would find two more artifacts of humanity. Both of which confused us even more. UNDERGROUND - BARRY - Where am I? - Where do you think you are, Barry? - In a building. - Such a mind! You see four walls, a floor, and a ceiling and you conclude that you are in a building. Brilliant. Where do you think the building is? - I have no idea. - It's about thirty feet below the surface. - Underground. - Yes. - I'm dead. This is hell. - Oh, no, Barry. You're very much alive. Everyone on Flight 12 is alive. For now. - Where are they? Where's Phil? - Your co-pilot? He's here. So is your flight attendant Percy. The passengers are on the surface. But some will arrive here shortly. - How do you know this? How do you know that everyone is alive? - You expect a magician to give away his secrets? A magician. Yeah, he was that, all right. A mad one. He'd shown me a magic trick. Two people had died. He told me that what I had witnessed could happen to me. Unless I did for him this one thing. One little thing, which would be no big deal, just watch for his text. A second magic trick hit too close to home. So I did that one thing. I flew ZTA Flight 12 from Santo Domingo toward Aruba. And we hit shit-crazy turbulence that tore the plane apart. The little thing that was no big deal was suddenly a very big deal indeed. I should be dead. He says I'm alive. But how did I get in an underground building � with HIM? - Look, when the plane crashed � - Did it? - It didn't crash? - Do you remember it crashing? - I remember it fucking breaking apart! - And then what? - And then I was here. - So that's what happened. The plane broke apart and then you were here. - How is that possible? - I'm a magician, remember? Only maybe I'm not THE magician. - What do you mean? Who is? - You will see that this island is quite unique. - The island is the magician? - The island is an inanimate object, Barry. - Look, I did what you asked me to do. Can I go now? He laughed. - No, Barry. You're not going anywhere. - Who ARE you? - You know who I am. Hamish DiSalvo. But you can call me Master. - . . . Excuse me? - Call me Master. Because you're my boy. - Are you serious? I'm nobody's `boy'. You know that! I'm a fucking dom! They call me `Sir Barry'. Literally and figuratively, I'm a fucking dom! As in, a dom who fucks! - And you will be again. But for now, you're my boy. - Why? What is your goal? Why are you doing . . . whatever it is you're doing? - All in good time, `Sir Barry'. Be patient. You will be amply rewarded. But you will have to earn your reward. Now surrender your clothes. All of them. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER THREE � LET'S GO TO THE LIGHTHOUSE]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-25	Date: Mon, 1 Apr 2024 15:00:58 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 25 Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER 25 � HEADIN' ON DOWN? Previously, on the island's surface: * Seth follows Miles and Vic when they leave the tower; he watches them have sex and then sees Miles speared by a `penis garden' and taken underground. * After others have been captured on their birthdays, Seth and Harry prioritize protecting Augie, whose birthday is imminent; Augie is struggling to accept being gay. * Ed, the British knight, has rejected his son Leo for being gay, despite his own homosexual experience in college. Underground: * Stan is to be the next left-sider castrated, but Ian wins a reprieve for him from Hamish by revealing the details of Leo's escape attempt. After the escape attempt fails, Hamish forces Paul to choose a captive to be executed; he picks Leo, sparing Dai. Theo and Piers are sentenced to `permanent' bondage, and Al is to undergo the knife. Elsewhere: * Stimulever had ordered Sean to "neutralize" Miles and Jordan because of their awareness of Flight 12; rather than killing them, he transferred them to Betaworld, removing all memory of them in Alphaworld. [Author's Note: Chapter 24 ended on the morning of Dec. 11. This chapter will rewind initially to Dec. 10 to include events that didn't fit in the previous two chapters. � T.C.] * * * * * * * * MONDAY, DECEMBER 10 * * * * * * * * THE WHITE ROOM/THE THRONE ROOM � MILES I had fallen straight through the earth without being cognizant of ever having struck it or passed through it. And landed � softly! - in an all-white room with a foam-rubber floor. I'd heard stories about others disappearing into the earth, after venturing onto what they called a `dodecagon'. Wherever they went to, I figured I was in the same place. Moments later, two naked brutes burst through the door, grabbed me, dragged me out into the hallway and shoved me inside a room marked Sex Room D. That didn't augur well. What seemed like hours passed. Eventually, the door opened and different naked brutes appeared, escorting me (a euphemism) to a rather majestic suite populated by three men. The first was white, in his forties, and fierce-looking, evidently the boss of this enterprise; the second a light-skinned Black, masculine but subsidiary to the first. They were clothed, but the third man was naked � and seemed to be a dog. He crawled along on hands and knees, a tail protruding from his ass, which he wagged constantly. The boss man proclaimed himself to be `Hamish' and his accomplice `Percy'. He didn't introduce the dog. The inquisition began. - So what are you doing here? - You tell me. I was minding my own business when this thing shoots up out of the ground and shoots up my ass. Then it � - I don't need an explanation of a penis portal. I need to know why you are on this island. - Someone brought me here. - Sean? - That was his name, yes. - Why? - We weren't supposed to know about Flight 12. But we did. - You and Jordan Murdock. - You know our names. - We know a lot about you. The question is � how much do you know about us? - All I know is that we were in danger in the real world. - Sean was supposed to neutralize you. - You mean kill us. - That's right. - He said it was only important that we not exist in the real world. He said we would disappear there if we came here. - That's correct. You exist only here. Sean did his job � he terminated your existence in Alphaworld. - (with false optimism) So . . . everything's cool, right? - Everything is not `cool'. Your appearance on the island has disrupted our plans. The question remains whether you need to be terminated in Betaworld as well. - Uh � - Since you don't exist in Alphaworld, death here would be final. We just ended the life of a young man named Leo � in both worlds. You may be next. - Please, if there's anything I can do � - There isn't. And it's not up to me. We need guidance from corporate. They'll tell us what to do with you. In the meantime � Barry, fuck him. Of all the indignities I can think of, getting fucked by a dog wasn't one I would ever have anticipated. THE PHALLIC TOWER � JORDAN - Jordan. - Vic. Oh, Vic, I'm so sorry. - Are you . . . ? - Am I what? - Part of the conspiracy. - WHAT?! - Are you real? Or are you Beta-Jordan? - Vic, what are you talking about? - Are you a female in Alphaworld? - No! I got my hair cut in Aruba. Before Sean brought us to Betaworld. - How do I know that? Maybe in the real world you're female. For all I know, you plotted to bring Miles here and are responsible for him being captured by . . . whatever captured him. It's time you came clean with us. This was a nightmare. Vic is yelling at me, I supposedly don't exist in the real world, I might be two people, Miles is gone and I'm stuck here on this crazy island where I came to find Augie, and after I do I find out he hates me and � I CAN'T HANDLE ALL THIS CRAP! - (a voice) Vic, leave Jordan alone. He's been through a lot. I looked up. Harry. He put his arms around me and kissed me on the cheek from behind. I turned around and cried on his shoulder. God bless Harry. THE PHALLIC TOWER � JASPER We never left the tower after dark for fear of being locked out. Some nights the door handle was missing and some nights it was there � we never knew why. It was safer to stay in after sunset. I had witnessed the scene between Vic and Jordan. I disapproved of how Vic had handled it � but the guy was understandably distressed over losing Miles. As Jordan seemed to be in Harry's good hands, I thought maybe I should talk to Vic. But when I saw Seth head toward him with the same idea, I stopped. I stopped further when I heard a voice near me, looking at Harry holding Jordan: - Aww, that's sweet. Obviously not Cody or Ray. I had noticed that recently Gary seemed to come out more often. This was a positive development, one I wanted to encourage. - You're sweet, Gary, you know that. - No, I � don't say that, Jasper. I'm . . . I'm a mess. - A sweet mess. - Well, I think you're sweet, too, Jasper. - Thank you. - But what do . . . what do the others think of you? - The others? You mean � - Ray and Cody. Do they like you? - I don't know, really. They don't pay me much attention. - Do you like them? - To be honest, not much. I don't like how Ray's always hanging around Augie. And Cody � Cody doesn't like gay people. He wouldn't approve of Harry hugging Jordan right now. - It's what Jordan needs. - It is indeed what Jordan needs. He's had a rough go of it here. - Vic, too, I guess. I mean � it wasn't nice what he said to Jordan, but he just lost his boyfriend. - . . . Gary? - Yeah? - . . . Would you like a boyfriend? He froze. I noticed Ed, the other homophobe in the assembly, watching the two of us carefully. Gary was silent and reserved, not answering anything. And then I saw a gleam in his eye that hadn't been there before. He regarded me as if surprised I was there. I knew then that he wasn't Gary anymore. He realized that he had been engaged in a conversation with me, though. - What did you say? I wasn't sure which of them I was talking to, so I studied his face. When I saw him grin, I knew it was Ray. Before I could respond, Ed piped up: - (Ed) He asked if you wanted a boyfriend. - (Ray) Wow, are you volunteering, Jasper? You do have a pretty ass, but you know who my number one boy is. I'm going to nail him, too. Gonna give him a nice birthday present tomorrow. I know he wants it. - (me) Augie's not going anywhere tomorrow. We've got to save him from the dodecagon. - (Ray) He doesn't have to go anywhere. I can do him right here. I glanced at Augie. The kid was a mess. The anxiety of his birthday tomorrow putting his safety at risk combined with the stress of being confronted with the reality of Jordan's sex and his own sexuality � someone needed to talk to him, but he was pushing away anyone who tried. Instead he was stress-eating, stuffing himself with banana after banana. - (Ed) That boy's going to eat our entire food supply. - It's okay, Ed. We'll do another food run in the morning. * * * * * * * * TUESDAY, DECEMBER 11 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � AUGIE I didn't sleep easily. I felt pummeled from all sides � from Jordan, from memories of Alfonso, from this supposedly being some kind of parallel universe, and most of all from everybody trying to protect me. Like I was a little kid who didn't know better. Dammit, I knew where the green medallion was, I knew enough to avoid it. They were acting like I was a castle they had to defend. I suppose it was because Dai disappeared without them noticing, they were afraid that would happen to me, too. There was a second reason I didn't sleep well � I'd eaten too many bananas. My stomach was uncomfortable, and while I usually slept on my stomach, this time I had to sleep on my back. Eventually I nodded off. But when I woke up, I didn't know what time it was. The walls were still dark, so it was before sun-up. I needed to crap. Well, I would just sneak outside, somewhere safe, close to the tower. And � oh, heck, this was one of the no-handle nights. I couldn't get out. I'd have to hold it in. I went back to `bed'. I lay there, hoping to somehow fall asleep again, when I felt something hot against my face: breath. - Hello, sweetcakes. Happy birthday. It was too dark to see who it was, but I recognized the voice. Before I knew it, he had lowered his head and planted his lips firmly against my mouth. - Ray! But it came out `Rmmm' because he had totally covered my mouth with his. His arms were holding mine down as his bare chest slid over mine and I heard him say - Now slip off those pants so we can have a little fun. I already ditched mine. He lifted his hand from my left arm and started to unzip my khakis. He lowered his head to kiss me again, and I totally panicked. I started gasping for breath, unable to even call out for help, I was so shocked. And when his hand finally reached my cock, the worst possible thing in the world happened. No, I didn't get an erection. It was far worse than that. I lost control of my bowels. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH There was vague light in the tower, so it was probably a little after six in the morning. I needed to piss and checked the door handle. Yes � it was back. I sat up and saw all the sleeping forms � and heard some of them snoring. Oh, no. One of the sleeping forms was missing. The critical one. - Harry! Some of the snoring stopped. Harry woke up and looked at me. - Harry � Augie! - (sleepily) What about him? - He's gone! - No! Not again! The sense of waking up to find Dai missing on his birthday was totally d�j� vu. Harry picked up his shirt, which he had used as a pillow, slipped it on, and headed with me out the door. And there was Augie, standing sheepishly nearby. The sight of him filled me with relief and fury at the same time. What the fuck did he think he was doing? Come to think of it, that was exactly the thing to say. - What the fuck do you think you're doing, Augie? He crumbled under the vitriol I had expressed in my outburst. Anxiety spread over his face like cheese melting on a hamburger. - Oh, God, Seth, I'm so . . . I need to wash my pants. - We can do a laundry run, but � - And myself. - Augie, you know you can't go to the stream today. - Please, Seth. I . . . I crapped myself. I didn't know what to say. Fortunately, I got help. - (Harry) Diarrhea? - (Augie) You could say that. I ate a lot of bananas last night � - (Harry) We noticed. - (Augie) And I was feeling like, you know, bloated, and then Ray . . . - Ray? What does Ray have to do with this, Augie? - (Augie) He . . . kissed me. - WHAT?! - (Augie) And he reached down my pants and groped me. He was naked. - (Harry) Dammit. Jasper told me Ray was threatening to do something today. To celebrate Augie's birthday with a little sex. - You didn't think to tell me about it? - (Harry) I wasn't expecting him to make a move in the tower with everybody there! I figured we'd keep Augie well-protected, there was no way he could really do anything, it was just braggadocio. You know how Ray is. - Yeah, I know how Ray is. - (Augie) Anyway � can I go to the stream, please? It's the opposite way from the green medallion, and you can guard me and like that. - Well � - (Harry) Come on, Seth, look at him. We can guard him, like he said. We have to do a laundry run and a water run anyway. - We need a food run, too. - (Harry) So split up into two groups. There are nine of us, we can manage it. - (Augie) Only . . . could I have some privacy when I . . . you know, clean myself off? - Augie � - (Harry) Of course you can. Seth and I'll go with you and stand guard, but we'll look away. I was semi-amused at how Harry was taking charge of the situation. His kindness toward Augie was complemented by the logic of his perspective. I was probably being overly paranoid. We'd have to select a discreet and empathetic crew to go with us to the stream, without explaining why. My plan was to send Vic, Ed, and Gary on food duty, the rest of us to accompany Augie to the stream. I wanted to keep Vic away from Jordan after their confrontation last night, Ed was never the most tactful of individuals, and who knew which version of Gary would show up. This went awry when all three of them insisted on going to the stream, begging to bathe. Jasper and Tim volunteered to go for food, and so I crossed my fingers and hoped for the best. Augie was understandably anxious about my including Gary, but was reassured when he saw it was Cody and not Ray who would be making the journey. STAN'S CELL � IAN I gazed at Stan's nude body, sleeping soundly, and wanted to fuck it right then and there. Thank God he had taken my advice and rejected the escape attempt, which had spared him � at least for now. His gain was young Al Casey's loss, which saddened me. The chopping block would claim Al's balls today and his head tomorrow, but it has to be somebody, and Al had foolishly joined Leo's doomed mutiny. But at least Alpha-Al was still around, back in Syracuse after his Caribbean holiday, oblivious to the impending demise of his Beta counterpart. The same could be said of Stan, of course, but I wanted a different life for Stan than what his Alpha version faced, married to that horrible woman, unaware of the sexual awakening he had experienced here. How long would it take for Alpha-Stan to realize he was bisexual? If he didn't meet the right guy � and didn't get away from the Polish shrew � he might never find bliss with a mister. A mister like me. Looking at his bare ass made me horny. I needed to fuck someone and it was a bit early to go raiding the Twelve � and to fuck a left-sider this early in the day I'd have to get permission from his custodian. But there was one place I knew I could go for a quick hump. For which I had Percy to thank. After all of yesterday's craziness had abated, Percy had taken me to the Dark Room, where Hamish had imprisoned Piers and Theo. The Dark Room was worthy of its name. There was absolutely no light, like a sensory deprivation chamber. Normally it held just the one chair, with an embedded dildo, on which each of The Twelve would magically land in just the right spot for the dildo to stuff his ass. Hamish had extra seats installed, on either side, for Piers and Theo, who had been sentenced to perpetual bondage. While rarely used, there was a light switch which you could find if you knew where to look for it;, when Percy flicked it on we could see the two bound Bahamians. Their chairs had a large hole in the seat, underneath which were fucking machines in operation, methodically thrusting upwards into the men's anal cavities. Judging from the grimaces on their faces, they were not yet accustomed to it. Theo was straight and thus totally unaccustomed to anal penetration. Piers was gay, although his build and demeanor suggested he rarely bottomed. They were both suffering. Percy had offered me the key to the chair of my choice � it would free its occupant so I could use him sexually whenever I pleased. I chose Theo. His dark skin appealed to me � I so often fucked white boys � and his being straight was an additional turn-on. I had not taken Theo last night, but now was a good time, and I had brought my key. Percy had explained that the fucking machines were operational for twelve hours a day � three four-hour stretches, separated by two-hour rest periods, and then an eight-hour overnight respite would allow the men to sleep (sitting up, bound in the chairs). During the rest periods, they would be bathed and cleaned out for anyone who wanted to fuck them. They'd also be fed and allowed to relieve themselves. I inserted the key into the pillar behind Theo's head. There was a whirring sound as Theo's bonds loosened � which woke him. - Yes, boy, it's time for some human fucking. I ordered Theo out of his chair � he knew well enough not to speak. Bottoms who fought back � even verbally � risked a session with Mac, who knew how to remove more from a mouth than just teeth. The expression `hold your tongue' took on new meaning. I escorted Theo out, to the enema room. Two lieutenants manned that space; one of them, Penn, was on duty. - (Penn) First fuck of the day, hey, Ian? - Had to try this one out. - Nice meaty ass. We bent Theo over and Penn inserted the hose up his rectum and turned on the water. Theo reacted with gasps � the water was hotter than he was expecting, and it rushed into his guts at a prodigious pace. The water was hot enough that expelling it caused him considerable discomfort; the next round was with ice cold water, which surprised him. I thanked Penn, apologizing that I couldn't offer Theo to him as a tip, and escorted my black Bahamian to Fuck Room B, where I rendered him supine and plunged my dagger between his sweet cheeks. While my dick was not as thick as the fucking machine dildo, my thrusts were more irregular, surprising, and vigorous, causing a lot of involuntary grunts. Once my sperm had lubricated his guts, I felt a hundred percent better. He didn't. THE WOODS � ED I wasn't happy about recent events. Seth had done nothing to prevent more of us being captured, and now he was allowing Augie to bathe on the one day the lad needed to be kept inside the tower. And, dammit, if we lost Augie, I would lose all confidence in Seth. My own birthday was in two days, and I didn't intend to meet the same fate Leo had � whatever that was. And there was too damn much homosexuality going on. Okay, some would say I had a homoerotic encounter with Ryan Mackenzie back in Cambridge � and there was that incident that Leo contrived a year ago � but I was a firm believer that men ought to marry women and stick with it, no matter what. Beatrice was no joy to live with, but it was a proper marriage and respectable. After all, I was a bloody knight, wasn't I? Things got worse when Jordan and Miles appeared. This boy Augie in love with a girl who's actually a boy � it's like Twelfth Night in reverse. And this Miles person � who was he? They concoct some cockamamie tale of a parallel universe � and then Miles disappears? Seth and Vic cook up some story about penises flying out of the ground and sticking Miles up the arse � absurd. I don't trust Vic � and I don't trust Seth. STAN'S CELL � STAN Ian returned from wherever he had been. I had the feeling he had been having sex. I knew it was part of a lieutenant's job, but I still felt jealous when he was with someone else. I couldn't help it. I had grown used to the feel of his cock inside me, and wanted to feel it now more than anything. But he was not in the mood. He had something to tell me. - Stan, you know the escape attempt failed. - You ratted on them to Hamish, didn't you? - Do you know why? - To be honest, Ian, I don't. I thought it was a chance for us both to escape. You could have given Leo the right code. - I didn't have the right code. - It's the right code for today. You could have told him to wait until today. - I couldn't wait until today. They were going to castrate you today. There's a schedule, Stan. You were next on the list. I couldn't let that happen. I had to earn a favor from Hamish. I had to get him to promise it wouldn't be you. - . . . O god, Ian, I . . . I . . . Thank you. - We're not out of the woods. The math is not favorable. Eventually, they'll have to castrate all the left-siders. And after they castrate them . . . - They disappear. - That's one way of putting it. - Aren't they releasing them to the surface? - They're beheading them, Stan. - . . . Oh god. - I'll figure something out. I've won Hamish's trust now. Maybe I can use that to my advantage. - . . . Ian? - Yeah? - Are they still castrating somebody today? - Yeah. - Who? - . . . Oh, jeez, Stan, I'm sorry. It's Al. THE THRONE ROOM � BARRY My stock was rising. True, I was still getting fucked daily by Hamish, but Percy largely left me alone, showering his attentions on Abe, and there were no more multiple-lieutenant gang-bangs. Occasionally, one of them would fuck me `doggy style' � their little joke, ha ha, so original � but I was taking it up the ass no more than twice a day. As opposed to half a dozen times when I first got here. What was more, I was allowed to top more often. Just yesterday, Hamish had let me fuck both the new arrival, Miles, and the rebel, Leo � before they lopped off his head. I suppose I should feel sorry for the kid, but he was just plain stupid. He gambled and lost. One thing I've learned � you don't gamble against Hamish. The house always wins, and it was Hamish's house. I gave the boy a rousing sendoff � a sexual experience he'd remember for the rest of his life � all two hours or so of it. So today I was happy to see another left-sider hauled in and bent down on all fours. - Boy, do you know who this is? - No, Master. He looks delicious, though. May I fuck him? - He's one of yesterday's insurrectionists. He goes under the knife this afternoon. - He deserves it, Master. Imagine anyone wanting to escape your hospitality. Yeah, I was laying it on thick. But he seemed to like that. Being obsequious was earning a much better return than the sarcastic approach I had taken at first. I looked at the youngster. Around twenty years old, only about five-seven, squeaky clean white boy. How I would love to put him on my St. Andrews and have at him for an hour or so. And then put him on the sling and see how much he could take in his sweet little boy-cunt. So he was sacrificing his nuts. Well, that was the price you paid for listening to a loser like Leo Niemann. At least he'd only have to experience life as a eunuch for a single day before he surrendered his noggin. I was salivating at the prospect of shoving my cock up this delicious rump and moved around behind him. - Oh, no, Barry. You're not going to fuck him. - Fellatio, Master? - No, he's going to fuck you. - WHAT?? - He won't be able to do it after today, so we thought it only fair to give him one last screw. - Master, in all honesty � is the kid even gay? - No, but he's had a lot of gay sex since his arrival � not all of it passive, either. We let him fuck King a couple of times. I thought maybe he might take to a bit of bestiality � with my favorite pooch. - Sir � - Quiet, Barry, or I'll bring in a train of lieutenants you can pull. - . . . Yes, Master. I understand, Master. Bring on the kid, Master. Let him sow his last wild oats. I got on all fours for him, lubed up, and in he went. At first, he was very tentative � and his cock was tiny, compared to Hamish � but he actually got into it as time went on. It may be an ass and not the cunt he was used to, but by the end of it, he was having a good time sliding in and out of me. Well, good for him. I'm glad he enjoyed it. Another sexual experience he'll remember for the rest of his life. All twenty-four hours or so that remain. THE WOODS � SETH We let Augie trail behind, to shield him from others seeing the stain on his khakis. Everybody knew Augie was shy about public nudity, so they didn't question it when he wanted to go downstream to bathe and wash his pants. Jordan volunteered to go with him � Augie demurred, but Jordan insisted and promised to be discreet. Harry went with them. It was my intention to accompany the three of them, just as extra protection, but Harry and Jordan said it wasn't necessary. Augie wouldn't go anywhere without his clothes and we were nowhere near the green dodecagon. So I stayed with Ed, Vic, and Cody, who stripped down to wash both themselves and their clothes. There was a little curve downstream blocked by trees so I couldn't completely watch the group, but I trusted Harry and Jordan � and Augie was nervous enough to stay out of trouble. And then trouble started where I least expected it. Ed flew off the handle. - (Ed) What are you hiding, Vic? What really happened that you're covering up? - (Vic) What the fuck are you talking about? - (Ed) Miles. What's the real story? Are you colluding with them � Miles and Jordan? - Whoa, Ed, calm down. - (Vic) Miles was my � is that what this is about? You upset because he and I are lovers? - (Ed) Mate, you can bugger each other all you like for all I care. But what's he doing on this island? And isn't it suspicious that twenty-four hours after he gets here, Miles goes off with you and doesn't come back? - (Vic) Ed � - Ed, you're out of line. - (Ed) You're covering up for him, Seth. The two of you make up this ridiculous story about penises springing out of the earth � - (Vic) That's what happened! - (Ed) Bloody hell it is. You know more than you're letting on. Your kind always does, playing the victim. - Whoa, whoa, calm down. - (Vic) What do you mean, my kind? What kind is that, Ed? The Black kind? - (Ed) Well, you're the only Black man here. And everyone knows where the crime rates are highest. That was the final straw, as far as Vic was concerned. He threw down the pair of jeans he was washing and charged Ed. Ed, eighty pounds lighter than Vic, was no fool, and took off on foot, dashing up the hill toward the wreckage of the plane where we had found the water bottles. Vic raced after him. Granted, Ed was fast. I remember him talking about being a sprinter in college and almost on the national team, but Vic was twenty years younger and had long strides; he just might catch him. I yelled after them, which attracted the attention of those downstream. I saw Augie's naked body appear from around the bend, with Harry close behind, wondering what all the commotion was about. It was understandable � on a day when Augie was vulnerable, shouting was bound to ring alarm bells. "It's okay!" I yelled at them, "nothing to do with you!" And looked up the hill where Vic was closing in on Ed. If Vic caught him he could pound the shit out of the older man. I started after them to try to limit the damage � my big mistake. THE WOODS � RAY Gary or Cody must have brought me out here, but they couldn't have done me a bigger favor. We'd been bathing, so everybody was bare-assed, clothes drying on tree branches. I was alone by the bathing pool; for some reason Seth, Vic, and Ed were chasing each other up the hill. And there, downstream, in all his glory, was the object of my desire. He was naked, I was naked, I was getting hard in a hurry � it was time to give him the birthday bang he so richly deserved. Yeah, Jordan and the fat boy would try to intervene, but Jordan was no match for me physically, and I had the feeling Lardo would be too scared to move. They say opportunity knocks only once, but the middle of the night wasn't really an opportunity. I'd have had to get his pants off him. And now they were conveniently off. Time to pounce. I started to run downstream. - Augie, I'm coming to give you your birthday present! You'd think you couldn't run with your cock standing at attention, but you can if you're motivated. And I was motivated by that sweet boy's ass. He wants me, I know he does. And he's going to get me. THE WOODS � AUGIE My worst nightmare: Ray, stiff as a rod, heading toward me, intent on sex. He'd tried to rape me last night, and now he was trying again. I had to get away. I pushed Harry in front of me, hoping to deflect him and took off downstream, hoping I could outrun him. THE WOODS � JORDAN Oh, hell! Augie is running away. Harry is trying to stop what must certainly be Ray and not Cody anymore, and Augie is � where the hell is he going? I'd let Harry deal with Ray. Someone had to get Augie. He was running along the stream like he was running for his life. I don't know what got into him. Ray was no threat to him � Harry and I would have made sure of that. THE WOODS � AUGIE I don't know how it got here � when we saw it before, it was miles from here. But there it was � the green medallion. Here. Suddenly I knew that all my fears were silly. I had been afraid of this green medallion: Why? It was beautiful. The most beautiful thing I had ever seen. And at its far edge, a big green phallus, as tall as I was. Gorgeous. Oh, hell, Jordan, I want that penis, I want to hug that penis, I have to go to the medallion � I don't know why I was ever afraid of it. It's lovely. And it wants me. THE WOODS � JORDAN - Augie, no! Come back! - No, Jordan, it's fine! It's okay! It's my friend! Come experience it! - Augie, it's dangerous! - Omigod, it's . . . it's IN me! It feels wonderful! It's � wow! He looked like he was hugging a column of air and was bent over at the waist, and rocking back and forth. I leaped up onto the dodecagon and grabbed him around the waist, pulling backwards. I had to get him off the thing, but he wasn't budging. I looked down and saw that his feet were embedded, as if he had sunk up to his ankles in liquid that had frozen around him. He couldn't move. I crouched behind him, bending over at my own waist and pulled on his legs, trying to free them. And then I felt my own feet sinking. All of a sudden I couldn't move either, as something crawled up my leg, slithering toward my ass. On the dodecagon's surface I think I saw the image of a goat. THE WOODS � HARRY I held off Ray as long as I could, but he got past me and took off toward Augie and Jordan. I raced after them, but losing ground with every step and getting cuts on my feet as I ran. I heard Ray call out "Holy shit!" and moments later I saw it � the dodecagon. The green dodecagon. The GREEN dodecagon � here! Nowhere near where it was supposed to be. And Augie and Jordan, both naked, were trapped on it. - Ray! Get them! Save them! Ray started to run toward the dodecagon but before he could get there, a fence suddenly sprang up around it, a fence consisting of inch-thick black rods with no space between them. They rose to a height of over ten feet, so that I could no longer see Augie, Jordan or the dodecagon itself. THE WOODS � SETH Vic had tackled Ed and was starting to unleash the power of his fists. He had landed one blow to the solar plexus before I tackled him myself to pull him off the British knight. Just then we heard Ray shouting and looked down to see him sprinting toward where Augie had been bathing and washing his jeans. - Vic � Augie! Vic looked up and saw what was going on, and instantly rose to his feet. Both of us started running in pursuit, Ed trailing behind us, slowly � doubtless still reeling from the punch Vic had landed in his gut. I watched as Augie took off running downhill and then saw Jordan take off after him. Harry bravely stepped in front of Ray, who collided with him, knocking him over. Harry grabbed hold of Ray's leg, breaking his momentum and making him fall. Both scrambled to their feet, but by now Jordan was yelling something at Augie, and both Ray and Harry took off in pursuit. I caught up with a distraught Harry as the two of us were on the side of a hill, looking down at a big black fence that looked exactly like the fence that had surrounded the penis garden when Miles was taken. - (Harry) The green dodecagon. It's here. It's moved. - What? It's behind that wall of . . . "That wall of ten-foot dildos" was too silly a phrase to say out loud. Ray had reached the edge of it, grabbing onto it, trying to figure out a way to reach between the rods and pull them apart. - Ray, don't touch it! It's no use. A moment later, the dildo wall retracted by itself, revealing . . . nothing. There was nothing behind it, just a normal patch of ground. No dodecagon. No Augie. No Jordan. We had failed. And when we went back to where we had left our clothes, they had vanished. ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND - SEAN - (Jes�s) I should have sent Ari. He would have terminated them properly. - You said neutralize them. I neutralized them. They no longer exist in Alphaworld. Jordan's own sister insists she's an only child. Ari would have had to kill her, too. - He would have. He took care of Nick. How that fellow managed to hack us, I'll never know. He knew because I gave Miles the password, and Miles fed it to Nick, an experienced hacker able to penetrate the other system defenses. But this was information that Jes�s would never learn. Germ�n entered just then. - Jes�s, there's news from the island. - What is it, Germ�n? - Stapleton just arrived underground. - Good. He was expected today. I'm sure our Trigger and his friends have cottoned on to the dodecagon portals by now and are doing everything they can to protect the remaining Twelves. But we got Stapleton anyway. That's good. Five down, seven to go. - Yes, indeed, Jes�s, but there's bad news. - I don't need bad news, but go ahead. - Murdock went with him. - What? - The Dark Room was programmed for one arrival, and when two came through simultaneously, they landed on top of Sebold and Thompson. - Were Sebold and Thompson damaged? - Not seriously. They got a good jolt up the ass of course, but the auto-repair kicked in. They'll be fuckable tomorrow, but the machines had to be switched off for the rest of the day, giving them more of a rest than was intended. The problem is that since there were two of them, neither Stapleton nor Murdock landed on the welcome chair. - And - ? - Well, they put Stapleton in it, but don't know what to do with Murdock. And they're out of balance now, they want to know if they need to cut another left-sider. - Sean, get Dolph on the phone. Ten minutes later, Jes�s had worked it out with Dolph. I could only hear Jes�s' end of the conversation, but at the end of it, he picked up the phone and called Hamish. - (Jes�s) Hamish, here's what you do. Get Stapleton off the welcome chair and mount Murdock on it. Let him sit on that dildo for twenty-four hours or so. Now, here's what you do with Stapleton. It sounds unusual, but Dolph says it's what needs to be done. First of all, give everyone a very large dinner. Make them overeat so that they'll have to move their bowels within an hour or two. Shackle Stapleton � with chains, not rope � and put him in one of the smaller shower stalls. Now, shut down all the toilets. . . . You heard me, all the toilets � and give everyone chamber pots. Left-siders, Twelve, lieutenants, everyone needs to use chamber pots tonight. The chamber pots are to be emptied over Stapleton. Keep him like that all night. . . . True, we'll have to forego the welcoming gang-bang until we get him smelling like a rose, and that will be tomorrow at the earliest. But he's got to spend at least twelve hours covered in shit. . . . After that? We'll get back to you. Dolph and Thibaut are running simulations. . . . Any questions? . . . Yeah, well, what's one adjustment more? The Project is still full speed ahead, Hamish � nothing's happened yet that we haven't been able to fix. . . Hah! Good idea. Russell won't like it, though. I was left wondering what that was all about. THE THRONE ROOM � BARRY Well, the boy who fucked me was named Casey, and he is now officially a eunuch. Hamish showed me his balls after they had cut him. That was okay, but I hoped Hamish won't show me what they sever tomorrow. Atticus gave him his first fuck as an ex-man, and all the other lieutenants followed. I don't know if the boy realizes this is going to be his last hurrah � well, actually it won't be. They'll do him all over again tomorrow before one of his lives ends. Hamish was in a surprisingly good mood, considering the balls-up in the Dark Room. He approached me with a smile on his face. - Boy, I think it's time you got another reward. - . . . A `reward' like this afternoon, or a real reward? - What would you consider a real reward? - Getting to fuck ass. - Your wish is granted. - Really, Master? Thank you! Being obsequious pays. - You're going to be the first to fuck our new arrival Stapleton. It will be a bit cramped. He's tied up in a shower stall, but I'm sending Lucas along to watch you do it � all the lieutenants are involved in the train Casey's pulling, but Lucas is as close to a lieutenant as I've got available. He's going to report back to me on how well you fucked him � and I want a good report. - Oh, yes, sir! I will fuck the shit out of him. - Interesting turn of phrase, Barry. THE PHALLIC TOWER - SETH - We failed, Harry. - I failed. I failed, Seth. I was there, I was supposed to watch him, I was supposed to make sure nothing like this happened. - It wasn't your fault. You did what you could. Who could have predicted Ray would go berserk like that? I shouldn't have allowed him to come. I didn't want to � but he was Cody at the time and . . . well, he did need a bath. - I think it was fate. They would have gotten him somehow. You were right about the dodecagons moving. That was the same spot where Paul was caught � only it was blue then. - We lost Jordan, too. - Poor Augie. He's going to feel responsible for that, as well. - Unless . . . - Unless? - Unless it's a good thing. We don't know what happens when we disappear. We might go back to Alphaworld. - Doubtful. - We don't know, Harry. But I do know this � we've got to do something different. Ed is beside himself � his birthday's Thursday � and we've got to break the chain. - How? - I'm going down. - WHAT? - We've got to do something drastic. They aren't expecting me to go down. And I know how to get there. The same way that Miles did. I'll wander onto that penis garden � it'll take me because I'm naked � and go underground. - Seth, no! You can't do that! It might kill you! - It might. But I don't think so. Why such elaborate planning just to kill us? - We need you here! - I haven't been very effective here. - I need you here! - Harry, I've seen you grow since we got here. You have leadership ability. - No I don't! - You just don't believe in yourself. But people respect you, they'll listen. And you're SMART, Harry. They know that. You know we have to protect Ed, now. And he'll cooperate because he's scared shitless. I can leave you in charge, it will be fine. - Wait � you'll still be here to protect Ed, right? His birthday's in two days. - Harry, I have to go tomorrow. - Why? - You know why. You're the one who figured out all the patterns � Flight 12 and all the twelves we've discovered since then. Harry, what is tomorrow's date? - The twelfth. - Bingo. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX � THIS COULD CHANGE EVERYTHING]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-40	Date: Mon, 27 May 2024 21:48:40 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 40 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER FORTY: MERRY CHRISTMAS Previously, at the Phallic Tower: * Tim, having developed wings, flies over a dodecagon, to which he is instantly attracted; it captures him. * Sean informs Seth of his last requirement, to collect three testicles from remaining Twelve members. * Gary confesses to Jasper that he'd like to have sex, but morphs into Cody mid-conversation. * When Stan wanders onto a dodecagon, Hamish realizes that a left-sider must still be alive, and orders Sean to provide proof of his death. Underground: * Tim arrives, fully human, and witnesses Piers being released from his bondage chair in order to be castrated; gelded left-siders are customarily (Beta-)executed the following day. * Augie lashes out at Jordan, but is reprimanded by Harry, with whom Jordan has developed a friendship. * * * * * * * * MONDAY, DECEMBER 24 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH With Tim gone, and Gary out of the question, options for my obligatory sex were down to Jasper. What if I didn't have Jasper? His was the next birthday, on the 29th. I had five days to figure out how to save him. But could I? Sean was right about my inability to protect the Twelve � no matter how careful we were, the dodecagons always seemed to win. Tim had grown wings on his birthday, flown away, and hadn't returned. Obvious conclusion: he had flown over the magenta dodecagon and landed on it. Stimulever had taken the radical step of giving a man wings in order to capture him. Would anything I did to protect Jasper be effective against such an adversary? And they were indeed my adversary. They held Abe captive, were abusing men I had grown fond of, and had gelded and executed left-siders. Stan and Theo had been recaptured � were they even alive now? How could I accept Sean's assurance that it was all for our benefit? How could I not use every ounce of my body to try to thwart Stimulever? Sean swore he had no role in turning Tim into an identified flying object. I don't know if I can believe him. And yet . . . we had sex again last night. Dammit, the animal magnetism was still there. THE ENEMA ROOM � AUGIE - Alfie, when we're back in Alphaworld, will you and I be able to hook up? - . . . You want to? - Yeah. - What about your family? What about Pastor Markson? - I'm done with Pastor Markson. I'm not going back to that church. - Your parents won't like that. - I'm twenty years old. I can make my own decisions. - They might kick you out. - I'll . . . Could I move in with you? - . . . I'll be honest, Augie. I'm a free soul. I like my sex, and I like to play around. I'm not sure I'm willing to commit to one person. And I'm not sure you are, either. We could try it, see how it goes. But restrict ourselves to sex once a week. - Once a week? We've been doing it multiple times a day! - This is Hamishland. In the real world, we'll need to see if we can build a relationship beyond sex. - And if we can't? - It will be a learning experience. We'll both grow. And then we'll be ready to move on. - I don't want to move on. - NOW you don't. See if you feel the same way back in Alpha. At least we already know each other there. Not like Paul and Dai, who live on opposite sides of the country. - Or Stan and Ian. Where is Stan anyway? I haven't seen him since he was recaptured. - Recaptured? What are you talking about? - Sean said he was recaptured by a penis garden. Like Al was. - You're the only one recaptured by a penis garden � if anyone else was, I'd know. - Then Sean was lying? - It would seem so. - I wonder what else he lied about. THE THRONE ROOM � HAMISH - Perce, honey, you know the left-siders have to go. It's the physics. - I know. But I don't want Thompson and Sebold to die � they're cute. - Sebold's already dead. Sean pushed him over a cliff. Anyway, you still have Derisian. - For now. - You need something to cheer you up. Tomorrow's Christmas � why don't we have a party? - What kind of party? - An orgy, what else? We'll use every bottom in the joint, and really put the screws to them. Literally. - Hmmm. - Tell you what, Perce. Thompson's due for the chop today. But we could delay that until after the orgy tomorrow, give him a last hurrah before the axe falls. How would that be? - I accept your offer. I presume my little pussy cat will be exempted from this exercise? - Don't be absurd. He's a bottom, Perce. He gets fucked. - And your doggie � he gets fucked, too? - Barry's been a good boy. He can be a top tomorrow. - That's not fair, Hame. - True. But I'm the boss, Perce. What I say goes. JORDAN'S CELL � JORDAN - Jordan, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have attacked you like that. Harry was so right in everything he said. - He usually is. Dear sweet Harry. I wish I could help him feel more confident about himself. - Do you regret telling me? - No. Considering how clothes disappear up there, it would have become obvious soon, anyway. Augie, I felt terrible. I still feel terrible. I was confused. I think I wanted you so badly that I talked myself into thinking I was trans. I'm not trans. I'm a man, a man who likes men. It was the stupidest thing I ever did in my life, and I'm sorry that it hurt you. - Do you still . . . love me? It looks like you're � I don't know, kinda happy here. - I'll admit some fraction of my heart still goes ka-ching when I'm around you, but it's not like before. I know we won't be a couple. I've discovered another side of myself here, a side that likes it a little rougher than anything I would ever dream of asking you for, you're so sweet. - I haven't been very sweet lately. - You were angry, I understand. - It's okay that you're ready to move on, because I am, too. Alfonso and I � We were interrupted by the impromptu arrival of the man who had awakened new horizons for me. - Barry. - Hello, hot buns. Am I interrupting something? - Kinda. - Good. - Barry, if you could come back later, I'd be glad to � - I know you would, bitch. Of course, it wouldn't be a matter of choice, would it. Augie, you're looking delectable as well, today. - (Augie) Uh, thanks. I guess. - (Barry) Would you two like to know what you're getting for Christmas? - Exit visas? - (Barry) Nice try. Hamish is arranging a Christmas party. No mistletoe, but lots of fucking. And Hamish is letting me be a fucker, not a fuckee. Can't say the same for you. This time tomorrow night, you're going to have a couple of sore assholes. - Hamish's generosity is overwhelming. Just us two? - Oh, no, everyone. Except Harry, of course. So I thought: I'm going to have a busy day tomorrow, maybe I should get in some practice. - (Augie) From what I've observed, you don't need any practice. - (Barry) True enough, Augie. But my talented dick is itching for some action. How about I take you for a ride? - (Augie) No, thanks. - (Barry) Sorry, you don't get to say no. I've been given permission to fuck anyone I want other than Abe. Hamish's words. And I choose you, Augie. Bend over. - (Augie) Listen � - (Barry) No, you listen. I can do this with lube or without, but you're going to get done, get that into your head. Now submit, or I'll have to call in reinforcements and it will be Gangbang City. Augie looked at me for support. I nodded � you have to do it. Augie sighed and bent over the mattress on my bed. Barry knelt behind him, his sizeable endowment now extended its full length. If I had a ruler, I would guess that Barry's rod would take up all but an inch or two of its length. Augie emitted a low moan as Barry, laughing gleefully, plunged into his backside. - (Barry) See, boy? I'm better hung than your pal Alfonso. If you're a good boy, I'll give you a taste of the cane. I'll make you scream, boy, and I'll love every minute of it. Just like you'll love every minute of this. I watched Barry's hairy, heaving buttocks as he thrust himself in and out of Augie. Augie, who had come here to make peace, had wound up being a piece � of ass. But Barry had given me an idea. - Barry. - What, you want to be next? Sorry, the next item on my agenda is to make this boy's skin some pretty colors. Though that will make me hard again, maybe I can fit you in. Ha � I can fit you in, and I can fit in you. - Barry, you said you could do anyone you wanted. - Yep. Hamish's very words: `anyone you please other than Derisian'. - Anyone � no questions asked. - Anyone. - Even a virgin? * * * * * * * * TUESDAY, DECEMBER 25 � CHRISTMAS DAY * * * * * * * * THE WHITE ROOM � HARRY The White Room was where you landed � on soft foam � when captured by a penis garden. There was no soft foam today. But that was hardly the first thing I noticed when Uri escorted me into the space. Suspended from the ceiling were a series of slings, each bearing a bound, blindfolded captive, legs splayed wide to provide easy access to his hole. The victims included Paul, Dai, Augie, Ed, Vic, Tim, Jordan, Miles, and two surprises. One was Seth's boyfriend Abe, whom I hadn't seen since the plane. The other, a light-skinned Black, must be Theo's friend Piers; Piers's balls were nowhere in evidence. The room contained sixteen fully-erect tops, ten helpless bottoms, and one virgin wallflower. It was just prior to eight in the morning. Hamish took the floor. - We're here to give you your Christmas presents, nice stiff ones. As you know, the island has bestowed on us the ability to produce multiple orgasms on a daily basis. In honor of the holiday, that faculty has been raised exponentially. Our cocks will be the gifts that keep on giving. We want to keep you filled with Christmas joy. And Christmas semen. For the next twelve hours. - The next five hours will be spent in twenty rotations of fifteen minutes each. In sixteen of them, a different top will fuck you. In two others, you will be vigorously beaten with some of our favorite implements, followed by a fifteen minute rest period during which you will dangle by your arms, contemplating your pain. That will take us to 1:00. A second five-hour cycle will take us to 6:00. With only two hours remaining, the duration of each rotation will be reduced to six minutes, so that all of us can enjoy you again in those last two hours. Over the course of the day, your anus will be defiled no fewer than forty-eight times. Merry Christmas, boys! While I silently watch in envy. My anus longed to be defiled. And it wouldn't be. Uri, in one of his more human moments, had explained to me that preserving my virginity was key to what Sean had termed The Project, and that its success would bring me a happier life. - A life in which I found someone? A life in which I am loved? A life that includes sex? - I can't guarantee that, Harry. Let's just say a life without barbecue sauce. - To quote W.S. Gilbert: `Modified rapture'. - Let me return a quote with a quote: `They also serve who only stand and wait.' That's John � - Milton, I know. But did Milton have to watch others having the sex he craved, never to get his turn? - I don't know, Harry. It's a bit too late to ask him. THE PHALLIC TOWER � JASPER My friends in the borough of Queens, the most ethnically diverse county in America, had introduced me to some of the exotic fruits you can find there. One was a little fruit called a quenepa in Spanish. There were quenepa trees on the island, but the fruit wasn't ripe, so we didn't eat them. But today was Christmas. Quenepa, with its clustered hanging fruit, was the closest thing we had to mistletoe, while admittedly not very close. I wanted to hang some over the doorway if I could figure out how to make it stick. I took the knife to cut a bunch early in the morning, and on my way I stopped for a wank. I normally arose with a hard-on, but today it felt as if I had overdosed on Viagra. My libido was through the roof. I knew I couldn't last long without spilling my seed and headed into the woods to do the deed. Where I had quite a surprise. Merry Christmas, Jasper. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH It was hardly a merry Christmas: marooned in a parallel universe, Abe inaccessible and in danger, and only two remaining from the original group of Tower residents. Four personalities, but just two bodies. Instead of Abe, I was with Ian and Sean, two of my PAST relationships. Ian had evolved into a friend, and he'd helped me escape from underground. And yet � I didn't completely trust him. Sean. What a hot mess. He'd diddled Abe behind my back and claimed Abe had planned to use this trip to dump me. Years ago, he'd arranged the kidnapping of my sons, driving my wife to suicide. At the same time, he made me realize that what I really wanted was a male body next to mine. After Sean, I'd never slept with a woman again. For this I had to be grateful. And the sexual attraction was so strong that we were having pre-dawn trysts in the meadow on a regular basis. Lately, he'd presented me with an ethical nightmare: to save Abe, I needed to sever three testicles from what was left of The Twelve. Their balls would be restored with the end of Betaworld, in six days. If Sean was telling the truth. That was a big if. I rose early. Jasper, absent, was probably at the latrine. The others were asleep. The castration mandate was eating away at me. I had initially thought that � if I had to do it � I could take one testicle from each of three men, creating no eunuchs. But then Tim flew the scene � literally � and there were only two men, possessing four testicles � of which I was to remove three. I had to make sure this requirement was legit, that Sean was not snowing me. When he awakened, I demanded he take me to his phone and call Hamish so that I could get the word from the horse's mouth. To my disappointment, Hamish confirmed the mandate, with an odd proviso: - That's correct, Herrick, three balls. But not from Onslow. Not from Onslow? The math wasn't that complex: I couldn't get to three without at least one of his. And then I realized what Hamish must have meant: Cody's last name was Benson. He was not `Onslow'. I'd have to take at least one nut from Cody. But soon I was to discover that that was not what Hamish meant. BEHIND THE PHALLIC TOWER � JASPER Cock in hand, I was stroking it furiously, working my eager balls into a frenzy before they spewed out the fruits of my labor. My eager balls. All three of them. All three of them? Yes, count them, Jasper: one, two, three. Apparently, Tim was not the only one who had been biologically altered in his sleep. I had been awarded an extra testicle. I had to think about why they had done this. I was oversexed already � this was gilding the lily, bringing coals to Newcastle, adding sand to the beach, choose your metaphor. They had transfigured Tim so that he could fly to the dodecagon. Would the extra testicle exacerbate my vulnerability to a dodecagon or a penis garden? If so, why now? They'd altered Tim on his birthday, but mine wasn't for four more days. I saw Seth and Sean heading back toward the Tower, and wondered where they had been together, and why. Even though Sean might have the answers I sought, I didn't want to trust him with this development. I motioned to Seth and pulled him aside. - Sorry, I don't want Sean to see this. Although clearly he will, eventually. - See what? - My Christmas gift. I lifted up my cock, exposing my scrotum to him. - Count `em. - Count what? - My balls. His eyes widened, but there was more there than just shock. I wasn't sure what it was, but it was a more complex reaction than I was expecting. He lowered his hand toward my groin. - May I? Just to be sure. - Yeah, okay. He fingered my ball sac, and I felt his hands as he grasped testicle number one, testicle number two, and testicle number three. And then he nodded to himself, as if something suddenly made sense to him. - What? - Jasper, we're going to have to talk. Not today, but . . . - But what? - Enjoy your gift. Merry Christmas. No, Seth, that wasn't what you were going to say. You know what this is about, and don't want to tell me. THE WHITE ROOM - ED I was in a rest period. That's what they called it � a rest period. I was hanging by my arms, after a brute named Atticus had striped my backside with a cane for fifteen minutes. I was the product of a public school (Americans would call it a private school), where caning was still permitted until 1998, well after my time. I had once transgressed sufficiently to earn `six of the best' and swore it would never happen again. A few minutes ago, I was given more than sixty of the best. I screamed like a banshee. That was after having taken six cocks up my bum. It was not yet ten in the morning � and this was to continue until eight tonight? THE WHITE ROOM � HARRY I listened to Ed's screams. I listened to Miles's yells as his bubble butt was being blistered. I listened to eight other men grunting as cocks ravaged their helpless holes. By the time tonight came around, I was sure I would no longer be jealous of them. NEAR THE PHALLIC TOWER � SEAN When Jasper pulled Seth away for a private conversation, I knew immediately what it was about. Jasper had received his Christmas gift � the third testicle. And surely Seth had put two and two together. Hamish had told him not to touch Onslow. And now he knew how that was possible. Damn. Dolph had interpreted the physics to mean that all three testicles should be taken from Jasper. But he hadn't been sure. My idea to sever one of Tim's gonads might not have violated the mandate. But now Seth knew he was supposed to take them all from Jasper. And Jasper would probably let him do it � he was tired of being addicted to sex. Especially since it was only a `rental', as I had expressed it to Seth. My only hope was that Seth would get cold feet about castrating Jasper completely. Meanwhile, I had a bigger problem: how to do away with Stan and provide proof of his death � without Ian finding out. THE BEACH - IAN I told Seth I was going for a walk. It was Christmas and I just had to get away. He warned me to stay well away from the penis gardens. Even though they were supposedly off, they had still snagged Stan and Theo, hadn't they? Seth's warning at least confirmed that he didn't know Stan was still on the surface, or that Theo was dead. Curiously, Seth hadn't included Al in that list � I knew Al was dead, but I didn't think Seth did. The public story was that all three had been captured by a penis garden. I headed west toward the beach and the man I loved. THE BEACH � STAN Until now, I thought the worst Christmas of my life was last year, when Magda and I had a major fight and accused each other of infidelity � of which I, at least, was innocent. She wound up tossing one of my gifts out the window; I wound up nursing a scotch at a neighborhood bar. But this year topped that by a mile. I'm on an island in a parallel universe with nothing to do and no one to talk to, and it's been days since I've seen the person I love because I'm under a death threat and he can't betray that I'm still alive. It was almost enough to make me seek out a penis garden and get it over with. Until. There was a slight movement on the horizon. There was never movement on the horizon. All that ever moved were branches in the breeze and waves in the ocean. This was something moving on the beach. There being no native fauna on the island, it had to be a human being. And as the figure approached, my heart filled with joy. Ian. At last. It was like in the movies when two star-crossed lovers finally reunite and run into each other's arms, only those scenes are always in slow motion and we were hurtling toward each other at full speed. When we got close enough, Ian literally leaped into my arms. The impact knocked me down onto the sand, but I didn't mind for a second. Omigod, he felt good. And smelled good. And kissed good. - Merry Christmas, Stan. - Oh god, Ian, it is now. It was the most miserable Christmas of my life until two minutes ago, and now it's the best ever. I didn't want his arms to ever release me. I drew his head against my neck and we just lay there wordlessly for a full two minutes, naked on the sand, body against body, before he stood up. - I brought you a present. I looked at his crotch. - I see. I think I can give you a similar present. Fuck me, Ian. - Only if you let me blow you. Would you mind if I don't describe the delirious sex we had? There was not a single part of each other's bodies that we did not explore with hands, feet, torso, or tongue. Or penis. Three orgasms later (I won't reveal which of us had two), we ran into the ocean to clean the sand � and semen � off our bodies, and to leap in and out of the waves like nine-year-olds. And then it was time for me to catch up on what was happening back at the Tower. - It's not good, Stan. Al and Theo are dead. - . . . What? . . . Dead? How? - Sean pushed Theo off a cliff. And Vic killed Al. My mind was reeling. Vic killed Al??? - You told me Al was captured by a penis garden. Ian turned away for a moment. When his eyes returned to my face, they were filled with remorse. - I lied about that. That was the cover story so that Seth wouldn't know about it. - Vic never told Seth? - Vic's gone, Stan. A lot of guys are gone. Augie's gone. Tim's gone. - Omigod, Ian, this is a disaster. - Yeah, kinda. Weird shit is happening, Stan. Tim turned into a bird, and � - Excuse me? - He developed wings. And feathers. I mean he was still Tim, his head looked like Tim, but he could fly. He could actually fly. And he flew away � we don't know why � but he didn't come back. We think he must have found the magenta dodecagon, and it got him. Wait a second. Did he say - ? - The magenta dodecagon? - Yeah, that was Tim's color. Nobody's seen it, or knows where it is, but � - I do. - What do you mean, you do? - I saw it. I went for a walk � when was it? Saturday. I was bored and wanted to explore. And I found it. But I'm not one of The Twelve, it didn't affect me. - Stan. - What? Why so serious all of a sudden? - Don't tell me you went up on it. - Yeah, sure. No worries, I'm immune to it. Nothing. - Fuck. - What? What's wrong? - You step on it, it sets off sensors downstairs. They know someone was on it. - And that means - ? - They may know that you're alive. Sean told them you're dead, he's agreed to let me cover up your death. But if you were on the dodecagon, they may know you're alive. I'm surprised they haven't sent out a search party. Maybe they didn't notice. In any case, it's not safe for you here. - Where am I supposed to go? I can't go further north, Ian, I'm too far from you already. - North is no good anyway, it's closer to the egress from underground. You should come with me. - What about the lie? - At this point, we're only keeping the truth from Seth, Jasper and Gary. Sean knows you're alive. I don't trust Sean, but I think I'm going to have to. If you come back to the Tower, you should be safe. They'd never dream of looking for you there. NEAR THE PHALLIC TOWER � SEAN Ian had gone for `a walk', which meant he was visiting Stan, probably fucking him. Well, it's Christmas, I can't begrudge him that. I thought for a moment about trailing him, so I could discover Stan's location � and taking the knife with me. But I couldn't kill anyone on Christmas, not even if their Alpha-selves would live on. I'm not that terrible a person. Nevertheless, Beta-Stan needs to die, Ian or no Ian. The next time Ian goes for a visit, I'll follow him. I have to find Stan one way or another. I mean, I can't expect Stan to come walking up to the Tower, now, can I? THE WHITE ROOM � BARRY Sir Barry Russell was buried deep in the backside of one Victor Torrance. We were near the end of the second five-hour cycle. Vic had taken a lot of cock � they all had. But it was clear this big boy was all top in his private life, and not used to being on the receiving end. I glanced over to the adjacent sling � Miles King, Vic's lover, currently being raped by Stefan. Miles was a natural bottom, more suited to this than Vic, but he was also small, and Stefan was huge. And this was cock number thirty-one. Miles was grunting in pain, and once in a while Vic would call out `Miles?' in concern. I wonder if Vic had seen him since I shaved off his dreadlocks � and the rest of his hair. It was my second time inside Vic today and I had to make it a rigorous fuck. Miles was more my type, so I imagined I was fucking the smaller Black man. I pushed Vic hard, ramming my (if I say so myself) prodigious phallus up his meaty backside. He groaned � sweet sounds. But I felt the juices building and � ahhhh � they spilled into his hot wet colon. Mission accomplished. FLASHBACK: SETH (CLEVELAND) � one year ago, exactly - Merry Christmas, Abe. - Where's the mistletoe? - You're an eager beaver, aren't you? - Well, I know you, there's got to be some around here someplace. - You know me that well, huh? We've been dating for less than a month. - Sometimes that's all it takes. - Can you do biometric analysis on mistletoe? - I don't think so. - Oh, I forgot. Mistletoes aren't actually a body part. Toes are, though. And so are missiles. - So are missiles? - I've got one between my legs. - Oh, THOSE missiles. Spelled differently, Seth. - Well, you're the intellectual in this relationship. - I'm not sure four weeks of dating constitutes a relationship. - It does if it's four weeks of seeing each other every night. - We're not seeing each other every night. - Hmm, I know what my New Year's resolution is going to be. - So what did you get me for Christmas? - Two things. They're both bottles. - Let me guess. Is one of them gin? - Yep. - Is the other one tipsy? - Nope. It lies perfectly flat on the table, see? Speaking of which . . . - Yes? - Would you like to lie flat on the table? - Doesn't sound very comfortable. - Okay, how about lying flat on my bed? - Fully dressed like this? Are you going to give me a massage? - I'm going to give you a massage, all right. A prostate massage. But you are a little overdressed. Like completely. - I'll remedy that situation pronto. - You didn't tell me what you got ME for Christmas. - Oh, I thought that was obvious. Handcuffs. - . . . Abe . . . - Okay, not funny. How about my anus � would you like that? - Yes I would, Mister Abraham Derisian. I would like your anus very much indeed. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH I miss him so much. Please, God, don't let that be the only Christmas we ever spend together. THE PHALLIC TOWER - JASPER It was growing dark. Seth was outside with Sean, worried about Ian, who had not yet returned from his walk. Gary and I were in the Tower, sitting on the floor. Gary was actually Gary, and had been Gary all day, so far as I knew. I guess Cody and Ray lacked the Christmas spirit. - Jasper, you've been hard a lot today. - It's this third testicle. It's doing its job. - Could I . . . could I touch it? - Yes, of course. Wow. This was a big step forward. Could Gary stay Gary long enough to actually follow through? I spread my legs to give him access. His hand came forward tentatively, then withdrew. - It's okay, Gary. Really. Go ahead. He looked hesitant, so I took his hand in mine � a little smile popped up on his face � and guided it toward my groin. I let him feel each testicle separately, just as Seth had done this morning. - That's really strange, Jasper. But they're real, all right. - This is real, too, Gary. I took his hand and placed it around my cock. He gasped in shock, and then I wrapped his fingers around my stiff organ and closed my hands around his, so that he couldn't withdraw it. He looked at me in awe, and then gushed a goofy smile. - This feels good! - Yeah, Gary. It feels good to me, too. Go ahead, stroke it. - Stroke it? Really? You'd let me do that? - I want you to do that, Gary. You're a man, you're a gay man, there's nothing to be ashamed of. - I'm not . . . ashamed. I'm just . . . scared a little. - Scared of what? I won't bite. - Scared that one of the others . . . - Put that thought out of your mind, Gary. This is Christmas. You deserve to have Christmas all to yourself. Don't let them out. Seize the day. Seize the moment. Seize my cock! He laughed at that, and I released my hands from surrounding his. His hands remained, firmly gripping my cock. He giggled at the sensation. Emotionally, he was thirteen years old at this moment. Physically, he looked more like the cattle rancher Cody thought he was. It was quite a disconnect. His hand didn't disconnect, though. And slowly I felt movement. His hand slowly glided up toward the top. My cock tingled with pleasure as his rough hands gradually began to stroke me. He kept glancing at me tentatively to make sure it was all right � I think the rapturous look on my face gave him his answer. - Can I . . . go faster? - Oh, god, yes, Gary. Go faster. Go really really fast. And his hand started pumping my cock, up and down, up and down, the first hand job I had received in quite a while. I had shot my load with my morning wank and again when Seth had fucked me, but I was ready to fire again. And so it was, barely a minute later, his hand working my cock like it was churning butter � that I felt myself ready to explode. And out it came � in huge spurts, landing in great gobs all over his chest, and trickling down toward his abdomen. I took his hand and licked the cum off it. But there was still lots on his body, and it was too late to go to the creek to wash off. We could go outside and roll around in the grass or find a leaf � or . . . - Lie down on your back and I'll clean you up. He looked both astonished and grateful. I started with his chest, where a lot of the jism had fallen, and gradually worked myself down his torso, licking off the delicious white juice. He trembled with excitement, and his cock sprung to vibrant life. I worked my tongue around his pubic hair, sucking the cum out of it as Gary groaned with pleasure. And then � I mean it was there, why not? I took his rigid cock in my mouth and started working it. - Omigod, Jasper, this feels so good! I ran my tongue over every inch of his shaft then took the cockhead into my mouth like a lollipop and treasured it for a moment before I dove deep down and pushed his cock toward my throat. I worked him solidly, mixing techniques, as his breathing started to accelerate. And then � felt him shudder in a way that didn't feel like ecstasy, and I pulled myself off, looking up at his face for a clue. - Well don't stop now, bitch, you're just getting to the best part. Ray. Shit, Ray, you had to spoil it, didn't you? Couldn't let Gary have his orgasm. Hell, maybe Ray deserved a merry Christmas, too. I lowered my lips to his bulbous cock, continuing to blow him until I eventually brought him off, swallowing every spurt as Ray praised my efforts. And even though it was Ray, I loved every moment of it. I am a sex addict, after all. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH Christmas. It had been Christmas. My gift was finding the solution to my castration crisis. Wow, gee thanks. And now it's getting dark, and Ian isn't back yet. He said he was going for a walk, but that was maybe five hours ago. Could he have wandered into a penis garden? Could he have gotten lost? Could he have � and I didn't want to think this � returned underground because he's actually Hamish's spy? Dammit. Between Ian and Sean, Ian was the one I wanted to trust. But . . . Wait. There he is. But . . . he's not alone. In the shadows, I can't tell who it is. Is it an emissary from Hamishland? Is it an escapee? No. It's . . . Stan. What the fuck??? I was happy to see Stan, but Ian had lied about him being taken by a penis garden. Just as Sean had. Apparently I can't trust either of them. THE PHALLIC TOWER - SEAN I couldn't believe my eyes. Merry Christmas, Sean! You're wondering how to worm Stan's location out of Ian, and he brings him right to you, like a lamb to the slaughter. Well, no slaughter today. It's Christmas. There's plenty of time to do what needs to be done. THE THRONE ROOM � ABE I was lying flat on my stomach, pain reverberating throughout my entire body but rocketing through my rectum. Twelve hours of virtually perpetual anal sex will do that to you. Percy was rubbing my skin with oil, trying to make me feel better. - They shouldn't have put you through that, pussycat. I tried to exempt you, but Hamish wouldn't hear of it. But from now on, you're mine, all mine. I won't let anyone else have you. Ever. I think I was supposed to be pleased by that. But Barry was a more talented fucker than Percy, and I missed our sessions together. Most of all I missed Seth. That `ever' seemed to imply that I would never again have Seth. I was still confused as to what the future was going to bring. Something was going to happen at the New Year. Barry had learned from Ian that we were in a parallel universe, which made perfect sense in a nonsensical kind of way. And that this universe would end on New Year's Eve. But what that meant for me � or for Seth � or for our future together � was a complete mystery. Hamish arrived as Percy was rubbing balm on my ass. They talked over me as if I wasn't there. - Gosh, that looks good enough to fuck. - Are you serious? He's been fucked forty-eight times today. And you've had thirty orgasms already. - Thirty-one's my lucky number. - No. Twelve is. Twelve is everyone's lucky number. Anyway, you can't have him. From now on, he's mine and mine alone. - I was just joking. - Thank you for letting me fuck Thompson. - I just came from the execution. It was quick; he didn't suffer. That's the nice thing about beheading. So, Derisian aside, the only left-sider left is Kowalczyk, whom I trust Sean will dispatch in due course. - When Adena and Onslow show up, what happens? Won't we be over the ball count? We're out of left-siders. - We'll have to geld Murdock and King. - And then they get the chop? - And then they get the chop. As will your pet pussycat. But of course, we'll save him for very last. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER FORTY-ONE: PERIL ABOVE GROUND]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-46	Date: Fri, 21 Jun 2024 22:07:25 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 46 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel * CHAPTER FORTY-SIX: APPOINTMENT(S) WITH DESTINY Previously: * Only Seth, Sean and Gary remain at the tower. Gary's birthday is December 31. Seth has been told he is also due to return on the 31st, when he will see a red dodecagon. * The physics require the death of a Twelve and another to be shot by arrows, preferably non-fatally. Simulations run in Switzerland indicate that Augie and Tim are, respectively, the victims who produce the most favorable outcomes for The Project. * When Jasper arrives underground, after having been castrated by Seth, his testicles are restored, but Jordan's simultaneously disappear. Both Jordan and Miles are slated to be executed in the final days of the month, after Miles, too, is gelded. * Some or all of the above two bullets can be avoided if a Twelve volunteers to be beheaded, and another volunteers to be gelded; Harry, satisfied that he will not die a virgin and pessimistic about his future life in Alphaworld, considers sacrificing himself to save Jordan. * With Seth and Sean's help, Gary is able to restore the memory of the childhood traumas that led to the creation of his alternate personalities Ray and Cody. Cody leaves Gary's head after he `finds' his herd (thanks to Sean's intervention). Ray and Gary, now seemingly simultaneously conscious, consider the prospects of merger. * Miles has realized he was being manipulated by Sean and draws closer to Vic. * Paul and Dai, in love with each other, brand each other's names on their bodies in hopes of finding each other after a potential return to Alphaworld. * Ian, after unsuccessfully trying to save Stan from (Beta-)death, is returned underground and demoted to a captive by Hamish. * * * * * * * * SUNDAY, DECEMBER 30 * * * * * * * * THE DORMITORY � ED A man unknown to me crawled into the dormitory. Yes, crawled. He looked ridiculous, a dog collar around his neck and a puppy-dog tail protruding from his arse. Like Hamish's alleged pet dog, Barry � but this was not Barry. - Who the hell are you and what are you doing here? - (Paul) That's Ian. He's � well, he WAS � one of the lieutenants. The one who escaped with Augie. - (Vic) This is the guy who told me to commit murder, that it was the only way to save our lives. - It looks like you have some things to answer for, dog boy. - (Harry) I think it's more complicated than that. Sean was behind this, wasn't he? - (Ian) He forced me to do all those things. And he killed my boyfriend. - (Vic) Stan? Stan's dead? - (Ian) Stan, Theo, Al � all Sean's doing. I tried to protect Stan, but Sean ratted on me and � well, you see the result. Hamish has two dogs now. It seemed like just desserts to me. Though the pervert probably enjoyed the puppy-dog tail up his arse. - (Harry) What are you doing here with us? You don't live here if you're Hamish's dog. - (Ian) I came to warn you. They're going to behead one of you. Barry told me. Thud. They'd already beheaded my son. I was the old man in the group, the most expendable. These fucking perverts get off on that sort of thing, obviously. I waited in dread for the answer to the inevitable question: - (Dai) Who? - (Ian) They mentioned three names � Stapleton, Eton, and Omi. In that order. I'm sorry, Augie. Relief. Not Niemann. I felt bad for Augie, but the kid was miserable after figuring out he was bent and how that bitch Jordan had betrayed him. Maybe it was for the best � put him out of his misery. The others circled around Augie, consoling him. I kept my distance � we were never particularly close, and, I mean, we were naked. I was supposed to put my bare body next to his and hug him? - (Harry) There might be a way out of this, Augie. - (Augie) What? How, Harry? - (Harry) Let me talk to Hamish. Ian, I'm going back with you. THE THRONE ROOM � ABE Barry, no longer allowed to throw a fuck into me, was away throwing a fuck into someone else � probably Jordan. Hamish was fucking Percy, leaving me in the corner, quietly contemplating my fate. Someday my prince would come, and that day was tomorrow � December 31st. Seth was due to arrive here and . . . do what? I didn't care, as long as it led to the two of us leaving this universe together. All I wanted was to go back to Cleveland with Seth. The last month without him had been intolerable; I needed him twenty-four/seven. I'd surrender my soul to him however he wanted, handcuffs included. My reverie was interrupted by the arrival of two figures. One was Ian, in full doggy mode. The other made me gasp: the heavyset dude Seth had chatted with in the airport on Grand Turk. I could never have imagined that HE would wind up as one of Hamish's captives. Hamish was into chubs? - (Hamish, not pleased at the intrusion mid-fuck) Get your ass out of here! This, I gathered, was to the chub; Ian belonged here just as much as I did. The big man retreated into the hallway, to a place where I could see him but Hamish couldn't. He looked at me and mouthed `Abe'. He knew my name. Well, I guess Seth had told him. I didn't know his. He'd probably mentioned it, but I had been reading and not paying attention. He undertook a series of gestures, pointing to me, moving his hand like it was a mouth talking, pointing toward Hamish and Percy's bed, making pelvic thrusts, and then crossing his arms rapidly like a referee signaling an incomplete pass. I interpreted this as: "Tell me when Hamish is done fucking Percy". I nodded; when Hamish WAS done fucking Percy, I waved him inside. - (Hamish) Why are you still here? - (Chub) I have a proposal for you. This prompted a bark of laughter from the Man in Charge. - That's hilarious. YOU have a proposal for ME? I have a proposal for you � get your fat ass out of here or I'll have my lieutenants do something to you that won't be fixed in the morning. - That's actually my proposal. There was a silence. This had gotten Hamish's attention, and Percy's as well. Not to mention mine and Ian's. - Okay, let's hear it. - I want you to cut off my head. There was another silence. - Mancini, you're a Twelve. You only have one life. If you're dead here, you're dead, once and for all. - I know that. We all know that. - You want to commit suicide. - If you'll agree not to kill Jordan. - . . . You want to substitute yourself for Murdock. - And Augie. Stapleton, to you. We know you have to behead one of us, let it be me, not Augie. But you can't kill Jordan or Miles either. - The deaths of all left-siders are mandated. - Jordan and Miles aren't left-siders � they weren't on the plane. And they also have only one life. Barry said if I died, it would save them. Or at least one of them. - Barry talks too much. Nonetheless, it's an interesting proposal. I'll take it under advisement. Now scram. I suddenly felt guilty about the mean things I had said in the airport. I had judged the guy based on his outside, when it was clear that inside was a genuine, kind, incredibly generous person, willing to sacrifice himself to spare others. Mancini left, and Percy and Hamish immediately began to discuss the situation. - (Percy) Hame, We have to alert Switzerland. They said if there was a volunteer � - (Hamish) I'll send a transmission. It'll be the wee hours in the morning there now, it may take a while to get an answer. We'll hold off Murdock's execution. - (Percy) If it still needs to go forward, I doubt there's much harm in waiting until tomorrow. I was full of mixed feelings. I didn't want any of them to die. But my feelings would have to wait. Percy had other ideas for how I should occupy my time. - Well, getting fucked has made me even hornier. Pussycat, get in the sling. I got in the sling. * * * * * * * * MONDAY, DECEMBER 31 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH I woke up early, nervous. This was the big day. Gary and I were both slated to go down, he by the yellow dodecagon, I by the red. If I am to save Abe, it has to happen today. Sean had warned me I'd have tasks to do underground, but I would be told about them after I arrived; that made me nervous, too. I can't let Abe down. It was now or never. Scary. I headed out the door with the latrine in mind and . . . whoa. ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND � JES�S (hours earlier) - Falcon, did you move the Phallic Tower? - Yes, it's near the exit from the Egress Room now. - He'll see it when we send him up? - Can't miss. We'll move the yellow portal after we get the okay from Sean. Herrick has to do his daily first. - Excellent. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SEAN I heard Seth leave the tower. I knew the surprise awaiting him outside. I left Gary sleeping and joined Seth on what was proving to be a bright sunny day. - (Seth) They moved it again. - They did. Do you know where we are? - Should I? . . . Wait, this does look familiar. We're not far from the beach, are we? On the west side. Near where we emerged when we escaped. - Exactly. They want us to be near the exit point. - Why? Am I supposed to slide down the pole to go underground? Is Gary? - No. Dodecagons will arrive for you. - So why move us near the exit point? - You have to fuck Gary first. Should we wake him and see what flavor he is today? - You didn't answer my question. - No, I didn't. THE THRONE ROOM � ABE - Good morning, pussycat. How are you feeling? - Like shit. How am I supposed to be feeling? - It's your last day, I understand. - Last day here, or last day in existence? - Pussycat, do you know where you are? - I know we're in an alternate universe, if that's what you're asking. - Then, let's say it's your last day in existence in this universe. - I'm going to die. - You're going to die. - But maybe I'm still alive in the other universe? - You're a left-sider. You have another existence. - Will my consciousness transfer there? Will I be aware of anything after the axe strikes my neck? - Pussycat � - Will Seth be there? Will we be together? That's all that matters, Percy. I love him more now than ever. I want that love to carry over. And Sean � Sean won't be there, will he? - Pussycat, you ask too many questions. It's tiresome. You worry too much, think too much. Your brain is not the most important part of you in this universe. Your ass is. - I'm more than an ass, Percy. You're an ass, so far as I'm concerned. - Oh, now, pussycat, be nice. After I'm giving you such a lovely parting gift. - . . . What's that? - I know it's a little late for Christmas, but what little boy doesn't want a train set? - A train s- - I'm giving you a nice long train to pull. And after Herrick arrives, we'll see what happens, and whether or not you wake up ANYWHERE tomorrow morning. One thing's certain: you won't be waking up here. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH - Good morning. - Good morning. / Good morning. - . . . I can't tell. Who's there? - I am. / And I am. - BOTH of you? - Yes. / You got it, Sethy. - Sean, are you processing this? - (Sean) I think so. You're both conscious at the same time. - (Gary, giggling) We're living together. - (Ray) I haven't figured out a way to fuck him, but we've decided to cohabitate. - (Gary) Neither of us wants to go away. And he has some qualities I could use. - (Ray) Like cojones. - (Gary) I would say `courage', but yeah. - (Ray) And he has some qualities I could use. - (Gary) Like empathy. - (Ray) And we both like sex, now we can have it both ways. We can be tops sometimes and bottoms sometimes. - Well, it's good that you both like sex, because I have to fuck one of you. Or both of you. - (Gary) Both of us. He'll put up with it. - (Ray) I will. I'm starting to understand him now. We talked a lot last night. - You . . . talked a lot. To each other. - (Gary) Yeah. - (Ray) We realize we can be there for each other when there are things we don't want to handle. - So when I fuck you this morning, you're going to let Gary take over. - (Ray) No, I'll be there, too. But he can help me get through it. - (Gary) And he can help me take risks. - (Ray) Like fucking Jasper's ass if we ever get the chance. - (Gary) And letting Jasper fuck us if we ever get the chance. - Well, bend over, guys, it's time for your last morning fuck. Admittedly, it was disconcerting to hear them talking to each other while my dick was buried in their ass. Gary was loving it and helping Ray to cope with it, so I just went about my business and rammed my dick up that manly butt until my joy juice erupted from my cock, at what seemed like record levels. Man, did that feel good! THE DORMITORY � AUGIE My first thought was, "This is the last time I will ever wake up." My life is about to end � and what kind of life has it been? All those years living in fear of hell because I was a sinner, thinking the worst of those sins was having unnatural desires. And fooling myself into thinking I'd been redeemed by Jordan because I'd fallen in love with a woman. Who wasn't a woman. I was a homosexual, and ashamed of it. But now, as I prepared to meet my maker, I knew I had been redeemed. God wasn't Pastor Markson. Jesus never said a word against being gay. He said to love one another, and he didn't add `as long as they're the opposite sex'. I've met men on this island who are good people and are gay � the old me would have said `despite being gay' � Seth and Harry and Paul and Dai and Jasper and Stan and . . . Jordan. Maybe even Vic, who killed someone. See, that's the thing. Gay people are complex, like all people are complex. Lucas was horrible, and Ed and Leo had their obnoxious side. I can name straight people who are wonderful, and straight people who are horrible and obnoxious. When it comes to being a good person or a bad person, whether or not you're gay doesn't come into it at all. I've learned that. And that means I can be a good person, even though these last few years I've thought I was a bad one. So I suppose if I have to die today, I can do so with my head held high. Harry thinks I might not have to die today, but I'm not sure why. ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND � JES�S - Thibaut? - The substitution can proceed. - Even if it's Mancini? He was supposed to remain alive because he was a virgin. - Well, he's no virgin now. His ass has been breached, if only slightly. Making the substitution lowers the success probability by four tenths of a percent, which is negligible. - We should do it then. It will spare Murdock's only life. - (Ari) Jes�s, you told me you didn't care a fig about their lives, only the success of The Project. - Ari, we can have both. It's a matter of balance. - What about King? - When Onslow arrives, King loses his nuts. - And his head? - That too, unless someone volunteers for castration. - Torrance is his lover. He might volunteer to save him. - Maybe. Torrance has only one life. If he gives up his balls, they're gone forever. MILES'S CELL � MILES - Vic, I owe you an apology. What I told Al Casey was true � well, partly true: that I was stringing you along when I really loved someone else. But that was before I came to my senses. - Your senses. - Before I realized that I loved you as much as you loved me. If this is my last day on earth, I need you to know that. I can't die in peace unless I know that you know just how much I love you. - Don't talk about shit like dying in peace. - I have to, Vic. They're going to cut off my balls and then my head. Jordan's already a eunuch, although that happened by magic and not � - I heard. Enough talk about balls and heads. We're talking about love. And I do love you, Miles. - But? . . . I heard a `but' in your voice. - When you arrived on the island, I don't know � you seemed different. Distant. - It was Sean. He had me wrapped around his little finger. - He's good at that. Wrapped me around his little finger, too. Got me to murder Al � and didn't even have the stones to tell me himself. He pressured Ian into it. He's a piece of work, that Sean. - You're a piece of work yourself, Vic. A masterwork. A great piece of art. - Who appreciates a great piece of ass. - Is that what I am to you, Vic? A great piece of ass? - Uh-huh. But it's not all you are, baby. When you walked into my gym, it was love at first sight. These past few months � until the flight � were the happiest of my life. - Mine, too. I'm starting to realize that now. Sean can go fuck himself. And you can go fuck me. - Is that a figure of speech? - No time like the present, Vic. One final fuck to go out on. We've already got our clothes off. - And I've already got my pecker up. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH Sean had waited discreetly inside the tower while I fucked the Onslow boys. In the aftermath, Gary pulled my head toward me and gave me a passionate kiss � which he never would have done without Ray by his side. It was a good kiss, too � Ray must have been coaching him. I poked my head inside the tower to let Sean know we'd finished, when I heard Ray behind me: - Wow, they sure didn't waste any fuckin' time, did they? I turned around and saw it. The yellow dodecagon appeared a hundred yards away. In the meadow, not in the woods where we had first encountered it on that eventful first day on the island. - (Gary) Augie said that everybody found their dodecagons beautiful. - (Ray) They were right. The damn thing is fucking beautiful. Look at that big yellow cock. - (Gary) Seth? Can I go to it? I want to. - (Sean) It's your appointment with destiny, Gary. Everything's coming to a head today and if you don't surrender, I don't know what will happen. Maybe the island will collapse and we'll be stuck in the middle of the sea, food for sharks. - Don't mind him, Gary. That won't happen. But, yeah, you're supposed to go to it, you want to go to it, so go to it. I watched him � them � trot out naked toward the yellow disc. He jumped up on it enthusiastically, raising his arms above his head triumphantly like Rocky at the top of the steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art. He ran over to what he must have seen as a giant phallus (invisible to me) and bent over, seeming to hug a column of air. And then he rocked back and forth � I imagined both Ray fucking and Gary getting fucked, though I know the latter was closer to the truth. He/they looked ecstatic. I got close enough to catch a glimpse of a depiction of a rodent � Gary was born in the year of the Rat � before the dodecagon flipped open like a foot-operated trash can, dropping Gary down below. He was gone. Only Sean and I remained on the surface. And I had my own appointment with destiny and the red dodecagon. I wasn't going off in search of it. I knew it would find me. THE DARK ROOM � GARY We fell into the earth, which felt like being on some kind of ride at an amusement park where you dropped from a great height only to land safely. We landed safely, in a pitch black room � with a dildo up our ass. Ray didn't like it, but I kinda did. We weren't in the chair for very long when the door opened. And a figure approached, a man in his forties. A man I recognized. - (Ray) I knew he would be here. - I think I did, too. I mean, someone from our past � who else would it be? - (Ray) Don't worry. I got this. I'm not intimidated by him anymore. And somehow I wasn't either. - Hello, Uncle Atticus. - (Atticus) Hello, Gary. Or is this Ray? . . . Cody? - Cody's gone. Ray and I are both here. And we can take anything you can dish out. - (Atticus) I can dish it out, son. But you're in luck. Normally, new arrivals get a long train to pull. But not today. It'll be just me. - (Ray) Ha! Gary, look at that cock. We thought it was so big before. It's way smaller than Seth's. - (Atticus) You thought it plenty big then. - (Ray) We're grown up now. Our asshole got bigger. I think your cock got smaller. Ray was right. Atticus's cock was no match for Seth's. Neither was his fucking. Piece of cake. I got this. THE THRONE ROOM � BARRY - Boy, I'm sending you to the surface. I need to have my hearing checked. - Excuse me, Master. Did you just say you were sending me to the surface? - I did. - . . . Is this reward? Release? Punishment? - None of the above. It's a job. - A job. - I need you to fetch Sean. - Who's Sean? - Sean is an employee of Stimulever who's been up on the surface with the Trigger and the others. I need you to bring him back down. He'll be at a big tower you'll see when you go up. - He can't come down by himself? - No. Ian will give you the code to the Egress Room; he's a smart doggy, he'll remember it. When you get to the surface, leave the access point open. It'll be like a manhole cover that lifts like a lid. When you find Sean, bring him down through that opening. - . . . Okay. - The proper response is `Yes, Master'. - Yes, Master. Okay. THE DORMITORY � JASPER Life since my arrival � two days ago � has been on the dramatic side. I'd been warned that I would meet someone from my past, but little did I expect it to be Alec, who had subjected me to the most terrifying night of my life. He picked up right where he had left off, tying me to a St. Andrew's cross and assaulting my ass � this time going all the way to the 750 blows he had promised on that terrible night two and a half years ago. My ass was destroyed well before he fucked it ungreased. And yet the next morning I was fine. Yesterday, I was subjected to the first gang-bang of my life (as a bottom). And more torture at the hands of Alec. Never in my life had I been so grateful for my birthday being on December 29th. If it were December 2nd, like Paul's, this would have been going on for four weeks. Instead, I only had a couple of days of it. He picked me up this morning, and I sighed that sigh you give when there's no point in fighting the inevitable. - (Alec) Ready for a castration? - Been there, done that. I don't know what got in me to be so flip in response to being the first man in history to be gelded twice. I just felt flip. - Oh, not you, this time. You get to be a spectator. - While you fuck me? - Actually, no. It's the last day, there won't be any fucking. Except for Percy's little pussycat. Everybody's getting a go at him this morning, even Hamish's pooches. I already took my turn. I wondered who the victim was. Gary was due today � I prayed it wasn't him. I wondered how he had gotten on without me. I sensed that if Seth could find the right key, it would unlock his brain and free him of those two invaders. But I was probably being foolish � if Gary's psychiatrist in St. Louis couldn't manage to uncover whatever childhood trauma was responsible, it was too much to expect Seth to. On the other hand, this island had magical qualities. You never knew what was possible here. The victim turned out to be a small black man, who must be Miles, Vic's boyfriend. I felt heartsick � for Miles, having experienced the loss he was about to sustain, and for Vic, who loved Miles dearly. Rumor had it that Miles was not only to be gelded today, but executed as well, execution down here taking the form of an axe slicing through your neck. Clean, quick, but gruesome to contemplate. Alec did the job himself, assisted by a tall, dark and handsome lieutenant named Stefan. They had gagged him, sparing my ears his screams � and (probably more to the point) sparing Alec his invective. The procedure had not taken long and before I knew it, poor Miles was a eunuch. So, I'd heard, was Jordan, though the means by which that had reportedly been achieved was literally incredible. Jordan's emasculation filled me with guilt, for it seemed causally linked to the restoration of my own gonads. I was afraid they would execute Miles before my eyes, too, but Alec (and I) escorted him back to his room, where Vic was waiting, taking him into his arms, the two of them together mourning their mutual loss. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH - Seth, now that we're alone � - Is this where you tell me again how much you truly love me? - No. This is where I tell you what happens when you go underground. - How to save Abe. - How to destroy The Project. - DESTROY it? You said The Project was the only way Abe and I could only be together. - I know I did. In fact, the opposite's true. If the Project's launched, you and Abe will be separated. - The opposite's true. From what you've been telling us all along. - Yes. - Congratulations, Sean. You have firmly established your reputation as a liar. So � were you lying to me then, or are you lying to me now? - I was lying to you then. - And how do I know you aren't lying to me now? - You don't. But why would I confess to lying before if I weren't being sincere? Oh, fuck you very much, Sean O'Hara. I'm not confused enough already? All I know is what I want � and I can spell it in three letters. I just don't know how to get it. I needed time to think. I headed inside the tower, only to find that the multi-colored dodecagon that had constituted the tower's floor for the past month was now entirely red. They weren't being subtle. The red dodecagon would find me, all right. No chance I could miss this one. If I stepped into the tower, I would be on the red dodecagon. My appointment with destiny had arrived. I stepped onto the red dodecagon. And nothing happened. Absolutely nothing happened. THE DORMITORY � DAI As if there were any chance this was going to be a normal day. Vic was distraught over Miles' castration and pending execution. Augie was distraught over his own pending execution, as well as Jordan's. Paul was distraught over the thought that he or I could be chosen if Augie wasn't. Jasper was distraught over the fact that Jordan had been emasculated, seemingly as a result of his own re-masculation. Tim was trying to be helpful without knowing how. And Ed was . . . at least trying to be nice to Augie, although I think it was less genuine kindness than relief that it wasn't his head on the chopping block. And then there was Harry, who was strangely calm. Maybe not so strangely. Harry was always the calmest, most sensible of all of us. He assured us � especially Augie � that it would be all right, that none of us would die today. But I don't know how he could say that, given what Ian had relayed this morning. And it was an established fact that once you were a eunuch, you were not long for this world. Not long for THIS world. There was another world, but supposedly we didn't exist there anymore. So if you weren't long for this world, you weren't long for any world. And by tonight, one of us would be dead. Three of us, counting Jordan and Miles. What was there to hold on to in the face of that? Paul. I had to hold on to Paul. I had to hope they were telling the truth, that once we got past midnight, we would go back to Alphaworld, alive and intact. And pray that once I was there, I could find him. Which meant getting branded for the fifth time. But this was the time that counted. This time our brands wouldn't be erased when we woke up the next morning. We had to trust that when we saw the names burned into our bodies, we would consider it so significant that we would scour the earth to find each other. I had my doubts it would work, even so. Would I arrive in Richmond on January 1 and notice an unexplained brand on my body? Or would I arrive in Alphaworld at the moment I'd left it, on the plane back on November 30? Before the island, before the brand. In which case it would only be serendipity if the two of us met and hit it off. I suppose there was a chance; we had been in the same row. I gathered Paul and we went in search of the Mayer brothers. And when we got back, bearing our burnt tattoos, we threw ourselves on the bed and I fucked him right in front of everyone else. Who applauded. They understood. This might be the last time we ever had sex. THE PHALLIC TOWER - SETH - Sean, what's going on � or to be more accurate, what's NOT going on? The red dodecagon appears, I step on it, and nothing happens? - Maybe it's not your time yet. - Then why is it here? And � I stopped. We were not alone. I didn't know his name, but the identity of the interloper was obvious, given the collar and puppy-tail dildo. He was the pilot of Flight 12, and Hamish's dog slave. My first thought was that perhaps he'd escaped, but were that the case, the first thing he'd do was ditch the canine peripherals. - What are you doing here? And do you have a name, or should I just call you Fido? - Barry Russell. Captain Barry Russell. I came to collect him. (to Sean) I gather you're Sean, as I know he's Herrick and you're the only person left. - (Sean) Your powers of deduction are astonishing. - A regular Sherlock Bones. - (Barry, to Sean) They want you downstairs. They sent me to escort you. - (Sean) That's not the reason they sent you. The pilot took a step back. He gave the impression of someone who had been toyed with too often, and had realized he was perhaps being played for the fool once again. - (Barry) Then what is? - (Sean) Barry, when's your birthday? - December 1. The very day I arrived here � what a nice birthday present it was, too, getting plunked into the underground and having the shit fucked out of me by his Royal Fuckwad. - (Sean) Careful, Barry. I work for the same company as His Royal Fuckwad. You want to watch what you say in front of me. - (Barry) Jeez, you sound just like him. - Sean, stop it. He doesn't need your threats. Why did you ask about his birthday? - (Sean) And what year were you born? - (Barry) 1982. - (Sean) 1982. Do you know what year that is on the Chinese calendar? - (Barry) Like I fucking care about the Chinese calendar? Not a ton of Chinese in Santo Domingo, pal. - (Sean) The Year of the Dog. Barry barked a bitter laugh. - (Barry) Well, isn't that just peachy. If I were born in the Year of the Dragon, would I be breathing fire instead of wearing this dog suit? - (Sean) Seth, what year were you born in? - 1994. - 1994. Also the Year of the Dog. - (Barry) Omigod, it's my long-lost twin brother! Oh, wait, doesn't fucking work like that, does it? Am I supposed to be bowled over by this incredible coincidence? - (Sean) Seth, you were always curious about why the red wedge on the tower floor had the number 1 on it, as your birthday wasn't on December 1st but on the cusp of January 1st. - So? - So that number 1 wasn't for you � it was for Barry here. - Excuse me? But he was never here. - He is now. Seth, you're the Trigger. You're not actually one of the Twelve. He is. - (Barry) WHAT?! - The physics required the pilot to be in the same Chinese calendar year as the Trigger. You were selected for this project long ago. Your meeting Hamish in Santo Domingo was hardly coincidental. Zen Tropical Airways doesn't even exist in the real world, only in this universe. You've been in Betaworld for months. - (Barry) Oh bloody hell. - (Sean) You arrived underground on your birthday in December. And you were sent up here now not to collect me, but because you have to go back down again � on the red dodecagon. - (Barry) What? - (Sean) Good-bye, Barry. And he shoved Barry inside the Phallic Tower. The dodecagon had the same effect on him that I had seen it have on Gary earlier. He ran over to embrace a column of air on the far side that must have been visible to him as a six-foot red phallus, and then bent over as if being fucked. A minute later, the floor collapsed and sent Barry back to Hamishland. Leaving me alone on the surface � with Sean. THE DORMITORY � HARRY My appointment with destiny was approaching and I was filled with � not dread. I was actually calm, not at all afraid. Which is not to say I wasn't emotional. The emotion I was feeling was sadness � sadness at leaving these people behind. I hadn't told them what I was doing. An hour after Ian had broken the news that one of the Twelve was to be executed, Uri escorted me to the Throne Room, where Hamish informed me that `the simulations' had approved my substitution for Jordan; what was more, my sacrifice would spare Augie as well. I looked for a treacherous loophole � could that mean Paul and Dai were now threatened? But no, Hamish was quite direct, if tactless. In his words, `yours is the only head that needs to come off today, among the Twelve'. I caught the qualification and reiterated that Jordan would be kept safe. He smiled and said yes, Jordan would survive, but that my action was not sufficient to save King. Well, that had never been promised, but I had been hopeful. Poor Miles. Poor Vic. I asked him when the execution would take place and he said it could be at any time, now that Onslow had arrived. He didn't want to be more specific than that, because if someone was going to be executed, it should be spontaneous and the timing not under their control. Which left me with the feeling that he could decide to implement it thirty seconds after I left the Throne Room. I returned to the dormitory. Vic, to my relief, was not there. I didn't want to have to tell him I knew that Miles was doomed. I was sure he was spending as much time with him as he could. Paul and Dai were not there either, but I explained to the remainder � Augie, Tim, Jasper, and Ed � plus a newly-arrived Gary � that Augie was safe, that they had cancelled their plans to behead him. I said good-bye to them, and hugged them all, without explaining. - (Jasper) Whoa, Harry, why are you saying good-bye? Are you leaving? - (Tim) We should all stay together through this. We don't know what's going to happen tonight. - (Augie) They might try to do stuff to me then. - I don't think so, Augie. I think you're safe. I think you're all safe. - (Ed) You're up to something, Harry. What is it? - (smiling) Ask Charles Darnay. - (Augie) Who? There was a pause. I saw a change come over Tim's face. - (Tim) Harry, no! - It's fine, Tim. - (Tim) We need you! - No you don't. Augie needs me right now. And Jordan. Good-bye. Not wanting to prolong this, I left and headed for Jordan's room. THE DORMITORY � AUGIE - What was that about? Who's Charles Darnay? - (Ed) Oh, God. I just got it. How stupid of me � and me being British. - Huh? - (Ed) "A Tale of Two Cities." Charles Dickens. - (Tim) It's during the French Revolution. And Charles Darnay has been sentenced to the guillotine. - (Jasper) Jeez, I remember. This other guy, who looks like him � - (Ed) Sidney Carton. - (Jasper) � takes his place and lets himself be beheaded so that Darnay can escape and be with his lady love. - And you think that Harry � - (Tim) Is playing the Sidney Carton role. And you're Charles Darnay. EXECUTION CHAMBER � HARRY I didn't even get to Jordan's room. They seized me in the hallway, roughly, as if I was an escaped convict, and frog-marched me down a corridor I had never seen before. And into a room where there was a chopping block. And an axe hanging on the wall. And a nude man wearing a black mask, obscuring everything but his eyes. Straight out of every beheading scene you'd ever seen in a movie (except for the nudity). I knew who it was, though � Stefan. Hamish was there and Percy, and Uri, of course. And Ian, in doggy mode, to witness. As well as a couple of other lieutenants, in case they needed extra muscle power to force me into place. They threw me down on the floor, and then pulled me up and forced my head onto the block. That had all happened way faster than I was expecting. And more roughly than I was expecting. Hamish spoke to me. - Normally, we fuck a man before we chop off his head. But that would be what you wanted, wouldn't it, Mancini? You're going to die not quite a virgin, but damn close to it. You'll die without a proper fucking, without anyone ever squirting up your ass, we'll have to settle for that. Do you have any last words? - Jordan, he's � - Oh, shut up, Mancini. Murdock is safe. Would you like to know what we're going to do with your head? - No. - Not curious? - You can do magic. You can just make it disappear. Like the rest of my body. - We can. We could just make you disappear right now, and you'd be equally dead. Or I could set you on fire, and you'd burn to a crisp. Would you prefer that? God, no. I agreed to do this because it would be quick and painless. Just a tickle at the back of the neck � that's what they said. As long as the axe goes clean through in one blow. - Well, let's get on with it, then. Stefan? I closed my eyes, and heard Stefan lift the heavy axe from off its perch in the wall. And then the first element of fear crept in. And so, absurdly, did Jean-Paul Sartre. "Being and Nothingness." I was going from a state of Being to a state of Nothingness. Being and Nothingness. Which was better? If Being had been my life in Betaworld, the way I was treated in the last month by the men I had met at the Tower, the respect they had accorded me, I'd vote for Being all the time. But if Being was like my life in Alphaworld, the life I was escaping, a lonely, loveless existence rife with humiliation � then Nothingness won, hands down. And if, by choosing Nothingness over Being, I could spare the lives of two people who preferred Being over Nothingness , then this was the right choice. Something sharp touched the back of my neck. - (Stefan, laughing) That's what the axe feels like. - (Hamish) The next time you feel it, it's going to whomp through your neck and slice it off so fast you won't even feel it. - (Stefan) Don't worry, I'll do it quick and clean � I always have, none of those two or three whacks at it to make the head come off. - (Hamish) I have to warn you. There's no scientific proof of this, of course � but some say that the head lives on for a few seconds after being severed. You'll feel your head hit the floor, and may be aware of it rolling for a few seconds before you lose consciousness. - Sounds like fun. Like being on a roller coaster. Bravado, of course, but I wasn't about to let them intimidate me. If I was going out, I was going out triumphantly. I heard Stefan lift the axe. I braced myself for the sensation of seeing the floor come rushing toward me. But then: - (a voice � was it Ian?) Wait! [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN � THE RETURN OF SETH HERRICK]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-9	Date: Tue, 13 Feb 2024 20:51:56 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 9 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER NINE: PAST MEETS PRESENT Previously: * There are twelve residents at the Phallic Tower, and the author doesn't expect you to keep them all straight at this point. Those appearing in this chapter are Seth, Harry, Dai, and Paul. * For the second day in a row, Seth awakens in the nude with his clothing nowhere in evidence. * Paul (who earlier stripped and tried to kiss Dai when encountering a blue dodecagon) wakes up wearing only a jockstrap. As a teenager, he had lost his anal virginity similarly attired. * The men are trapped inside the tower, as the door handle has mysteriously vanished. When Dai tries to open the door, he finds an envelope addressed to "Lee S. Herrick." (Seth's last name is Herrick.) * Underground, Stan, arriving moments after his friend Al, is greeted by the plane's pilot, Barry, who says that Hamish is his `master'. Barry introduces him to his cellmate (named Ian). All three are nude. * Flashback: At a `chance meeting' engineered by an ex-boyfriend (named Ian), Seth encounters Abe at his birthday party and tries to make amends for being overly aggressive on their second date. They reconcile, tentatively, agreeing to have a third date, one that would not involve sex. * * * * * * * * SUNDAY, DECEMBER 2 * * * * * * * * STAN'S CELL � STAN I was uncomfortable sharing a bed with another man. It seemed narrow for a double bed, and there were times when Ian's body touched mine. The absence of sheets and blankets didn't help: It was just two nude men on a bed, without much space in between. At least he didn't try to molest me. I was full of questions. How did our pilot wind up as some kind of servant to a figure named Hamish? Who was this Hamish? Did he build this place, and how? Why were Barry and Ian naked? And where was Al � was he okay? It was time to pump my roommate for information. - Ian, where are we? - It's weird, right? - We're underground. - Are we? - You don't know that? - Yeah, maybe I know that. I don't know much � I know we're on an island. - In the Caribbean. - Presumably. - How long have you been here? - A year. I was en route to Martinique when the plane hit turbulence, I passed out, and I woke up here. Naked. We were all naked. - `All'? The whole plane came here? - Just eleven other guys. Maybe everyone else went on to Martinique, who knows. But twelve of us were suddenly here, all male, all young, all stripped to the skin. But then . . . - Then . . . ? - They . . . disappeared, one by one. - You're scaring me, Ian. - You should be scared, Stan. You'll find out when you meet Hamish. - Hamish. Barry mentioned that name. - Barry? Who's Barry? - Our pilot. He just arrived here, too, but he seems different from you and me. Anyway, he said Hamish was his master. - Hamish is everybody's master. In a way. He's the boss of this place. Are you from Flight 12? - Yes. Why? - There have been previous flights. I was on Flight 8. Rumors are that Flight 12 is the real deal, the big one. Something's going to happen, Stan, I don't know what, but I think the fact that you're here is important. - You've been here a whole year. What's it like? - For me, not so bad. I have my role to play. . . . For you? . . . - You're hesitating. What? - Your role is different. - Different how? - . . . You'll find out. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH Harry and Dai brought me the envelope. It was addressed to `Lee S. Herrick', in what looked like calligraphy, like a fancy invitation. - (Harry) `Lee'? - Seth is my middle name. I only use `Lee' on forms and such. - (Dai) You never told anyone here your first name? - No. Can't be anyone here. Not that I'd think that anyway. - (Harry) Maybe the flight manifest said "Lee S. Herrick". If you bought your tickets using `Lee' � - I did. So who'd have access to the flight manifest? The flight attendant. The pilots. If they survived. - (Harry) The flight attendant was weird on the plane. Like he really cared where we sat. - (Dai) Do you think he sent this note? - He's probably dead, Dai. - (Harry) Well, maybe if you open the note, we'll find out who sent it. I was afraid to, though I didn't want to let it show. As Harry had noted, I was clearly being targeted personally. And when your clothes vanish while you're sleeping two nights in a row, you start to get more than a little paranoid. And now what looked like an invitation was addressed to me, delivered inside a room from which there was no way in or out? - (Dai) For god's sake, Seth, don't keep us in suspense. Open it! I opened it. It read: YOU ARE NOT DEAD. YOU ARE NOT DREAMING. YOU ARE ON PLANET EARTH. THERE IS A WAY OFF THIS ISLAND. ONLY YOU CAN MAKE IT HAPPEN. BUT YOU CANNOT DO IT WITH CLOTHES ON. The moment I finished reading the note, the door sprang open. FLASHBACK: SETH (CLEVELAND) � December 6, a year ago - Well, Abraham Derisian, now I know something more about you. You and I don't like the same movies. - You were expecting something along the Marvel comics line? - What's wrong with that? The world loves a good superhero. - Are you a superhero? - No. - Not `Topman'? - Well . . . maybe under the right circumstances. You don't like action movies? - Not ones based on comic books. - Hmmm. What if they were in French with subtitles? - Now you're talkin'. . . . Seriously, you didn't like this movie? - It . . . was a little slow. - But it was so sad. - That, too. I don't like sad movies. - It was at least a gay movie. - That makes it worse. I don't like sad gay movies. I like happy gay movies. - Did you see `Bros'? - I loved `Bros'. - It died at the box office. - Well, I mean who was going to go see it except gay guys? - Other gay guys? - Exactly. You could go there just to find someone to hook up with. - Oh, did you do that, too? - Okay, I complain too much about your movie choices. It really was well-done. Subtitles and all. - I should have realized reading would overtax your brain. - Yes, you should have accounted for my feeble-mindedness. But then we don't know each other very well. What do you want to know about me? - You're twenty-seven and gorgeous, but still looking. Why? Are you looking for Mister Right, or for Mister Overnight? - Wow. You don't pussyfoot around, do you? - I don't think feet fit in my pussy. - I'm . . . I have a complicated history. - That's not answering my question. - Correct, it's not. Okay, I'm looking for more than Mister Overnight. If I were looking for Mister Overnight, we wouldn't be here right now. - We would if you just wanted to repair the last attempt at Mister Overnight. Mister Overnight doesn't have to be a one-off, it can be a six-off. - How well I know that. . . . I think I've been trying to find Mister Right through a series of Mister Overnights, and it hasn't worked. So . . . this idea of yours of having a sexless date is probably exactly what I needed. - I'll confess. It's what I needed, too. I mean, I just turned twenty-four, it's time I got serious. It's easy to play around, meet someone at a club, spend time in bed with them � and then what? On to another hot body for another temporary pleasure? That's been my life. When I first saw you at Studs and Stripes, that's all I was thinking about. I remember thinking, God, I hope he's not looking for commitment. Are you? - Not on a third date. - (smiling) Fair enough. You said you had a complicated history. - That might be a story for a fourth date. - Fourth date, hmm? Are you a prenatal chicken-counter? - Have to provide you some incentive, don't I? What about you? I won't ask about your bedroom history. Just, like � are you from here or just going to grad school here? - The latter. I grew up in a small town - Madison, Indiana. Right on the Ohio River. They have a big hydroplane race there every - He broke off by the sudden appearance of a man who came striding toward our table, intent on talking to us, or at least me. Someone whom I did not expect to see; I was extremely annoyed that I did. - Ian. What a . . . surprise. - (Ian) Hi there. Sorry, just spotted you sitting over here and had to come over and say hello. - (Did you now?) Well, . . . hello. Abe, this is my former friend, Ian O'Leahy. - (Ian, to Abe) He's joking. We're still bosom buds. He's just pissed because I'm going to Martinique next week and he isn't. You must be Abe. - (Abe) Must I? Damn, I wanted to be someone else. Chris Hemsworth maybe. - I thought you WERE Chris Hemsworth. Oh, wait � Chris Hemsworth is like six-three. - (Abe) I only missed it by eight inches. Otherwise, we're twins. - Which explains my confusion. Ian, Seth said pointedly, what are you doing here? This is an incredible coincidence, our being in the same restaurant at the same time. - (Ian) Well, you mentioned you might be going for Armenian food, and I thought, hmmm, Armenian food, that sounds interesting, so when I saw this place I thought I'd try it. - On the same night you knew we had a date. - (Ian) I forgot it was tonight. - Sure you did. And you just happened to pick the same Armenian restaurant. - (Ian) Coincidences happen. - Abe, how many Armenian restaurants are there in Cleveland? - (Abe) This is the only one I know of. - What a coincidence, you finding the same Armenian restaurant we did. - (Ian, pulling up a chair from a nearby table) Okay, I was curious. After all, I was the one who brought you guys together. - (god, I want to shoot him) - (Abe) I kinda think we did that by ourselves. At Studs and Stripes. - (Thank you Abe. Let me repay you for that favor.) Ian was the friend who gave me dating advice before our second date. Leading me to reach conclusions so disastrous that he had to intervene to set up a `chance' meeting at your birthday party � happy birthday, which I think I never got around to saying last week � and THAT is the reason he's taking credit for bringing us together. - (Abe) Ah. Well, thank you, Ian. You know, you could do us a big favor. Could you fetch our waiter? He's the one with the tattoo of a rose on his neck. Could you ask him to bring the check? We're ready to go. - (Ian) Sure. - (Abe) Nice to meet you, Ian. Ian left and moments later was chatting away with the waiter. I turned to Abe. - Neatly done, thanks. But are you really ready to go? - I think we are. - Do you want to go someplace for dessert that he won't know about and follow us to? - No, I want us to go back to my place. - (did I hear that correctly?) . . . Your place? - I want to show you my etchings. I keep them in my bedroom. - I thought you said this was a no-sex date. - Oh, it was. But now we're going on a fourth date. It just happens to be on the same night as our no-sex third date. - . . . You're sure? - I'm sure. - I thought you were just getting rid of Ian. - No, you gave me an incentive. If we have a fourth date, you have to tell me about your complicated history. At that moment, Ian materialized as if from thin air, not accompanied by the waiter, but in time enough to hear Abe's last sentence. - (Ian) He'll be over shortly. (to Abe) Did he tell you I was part of his complicated history? How much does it cost to hire a hit man? FLASHBACK � IAN (CLEVELAND/THE ISLAND) � December 6/12, a year ago Yeah, I followed them. I knew that Abe lived three blocks from the Armenian restaurant and I suspected they wanted to ditch me and sneak off to Abe's apartment. Seth had told me this was to be a no-sex date, but I doubted that either of them was capable of that degree of restraint. And I was right. Sure enough, they headed off in the direction of Abe's building and, safely a half-block away, noticed them slip inside. I heard laughter as they were entering. I smiled to myself � repair mission accomplished, I thought. Seth had looked pissed as hell when I showed up at the restaurant, and I half-wondered if he would take out that aggression in the bedroom. Despite what had happened before, I knew Abe was a natural sub and would love Seth being assertive � he just freaked over the handcuffs. I knew from personal experience. You see, I knew Abe. It was the reason I didn't go to the birthday party. I was Seth's last boyfriend before he met Abe. And Abe was my last boyfriend before I met Seth. How's that for irony? It wasn't Jason who saw him at the slave auction � it was me. I took him there. (Abe covered THAT up well.) Abe and I had dated from October to January, basically two years ago � a year before he met Seth. The slave auction, in December, might have been part of the reason we broke up � while I (correctly, I think) recognized that it might appeal to Abe, it didn't work out as planned. My relationship with Seth began in March of last year. He was on the rebound from the latest of a series of boyfriends � an auto mechanic named Ysidro, who had very little in common with Seth other than sexual heat. Nevertheless, Seth was still smarting from the breakup. We were set up on a blind date by my friend Jason. Over the summer, Jason introduced me to his friend Jude, a psychologist. Jude seemed very interested in my relationship with Seth � he was a good sounding board, and helped convince me it was time to move on. Seth took it hard, and it had its effect on me, as well. For a time, I considered a relationship with Jude, but there was something about him that said, "Friend, not lover". Cleveland in the winter is the pits; we get tons of snow though not always in December. But I often go someplace warm in December, which is usually cheaper and less crowded than going in February. And after the stress of breaking up with Seth and the additional stress (if mixed with altruistic intentions) of rescuing him with Abe, I needed a break. Which was where Jude was a big help. Jude knew someone who worked for a travel agency and had access to obscure packages with a tremendous discount. And when he could arrange a week in Martinique, including hotel and flights, for under eight hundred dollars, who could resist? But then I never got to Martinique, did I? One moment over a hundred passengers on a plane experiencing turbulence. The next moment twelve guys in a room, stark naked. How that happened was beyond me � and still is. Naturally, when the man in charge walked into the room, he was peppered with inquiries on that very topic. He just smiled and said he was a magician. Well, I can imagine making an elephant disappear, or an assistant vanishing inside a box � but the assistant and the elephant know where they went and how they got there. "I'm a magician" is not an explanation for how you go from fully clothed in mid-air to nude in a subterranean compound. Hamish (for that's who it was) passed among us like a general reviewing his troops, squeezing the occasional scrotum, slapping the occasional buttock. Then he would say, `this one' and guards would take him away. He made several passes through our ranks, winnowing us down, removing more and more naked men from the room. Finally, it was down to me and one other guy, a Latino ironically named Ysidro. - (Hamish) I'll promote one of you two to lieutenant. Whoever fucks the other. - (Ysidro) Then what? What do you mean, lieutenant? And what happens to the other guy? - (Hamish) The same as will happen to the others who were here with you. Eventually. That was a non-answer, but it sounded ominous, and I resolved not to lose this battle. Hamish put a bottle of lube on a table and left us alone, and Ysidro and I had a chance to talk. - (Ysidro) Listen, I may be gay, but I don't want to fuck you. I'm not horny, and I have no need to demonstrate my masculinity. - Then let me demonstrate mine. He looked at me, uncomprehending, and seemed genuinely surprised when I tackled him. He yelled at me to get off. "Not on your life," I said, and, taking hold of his head, banged it against the hard floor, stunning him. His forehead was bleeding but he still resisted, so I banged it again. He was then too dizzy � probably concussed � to continue to fight. The lubricant was a good fifteen feet away, and I didn't want to lose the advantage I had, so I pushed his legs apart and shoved myself inside him as forcibly as I could. Ysidro pleaded for me to stop, but I had position on him and when he got to be too lively, I knocked his head to the floor again and he lost consciousness altogether. This made my job easier and I pumped away at his inert ass until I shot my load. Immediately, four men poured into the room. Two of them grabbed Ysidro' legs two took his arms. Together, they dragged his unconscious from from the room. Soon afterwards, my captor appeared again, all smiles � the smiles of a crocodile. - Congratulations, Ian. You just earned yourself a promotion. And you get to keep your balls. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER TEN � HARRY EXPOSED]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-17	Date: Sat, 9 Mar 2024 13:42:42 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel <[email protected]> Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 17 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 – a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER 17: LOVE AND DEATH Previously, on the surface: * Seth finds a note stating that Abe has been captured and that Seth must return to the Tower. Underground: * Barry fucks his co-pilot, Phil, who has been gelded. * Leo, captured by a dodecagon, arrives in the Dark Room with a dildo up his ass, next to Paul. In Aruba: * Jordan and Miles contact Stimulever, alarming them. A representative arrives to deal with them: He tells Jordan his name is Sean Stimulever, but this is not his real surname. In flashbacks: * In Chicago, Lucas (calling himself 'Ernie') entices a young twink, Lance, to engage in adventurous activities with him and a second top. He notes, opaquely, that Lance would take them halfway to their goal. * On their no-sex date, Abe realizes that Seth was troubled by a past relationship with a man named Sean. On the plane, way back in Chapter One: * Percy switched the seats of Stan and Gary (Ray, at the time) to ensure that Gary/Ray wound up on the right side of the plane. * * * * * * * * TUESDAY, DECEMBER 4 * * * * * * * * BETWEEN BOGOTÁ, COLOMBIA AND ORANJESTAD, ARUBA – SEAN (an hour before the end of the last chapter) My instructions were clear: I was to `neutralize' Jordan and Miles. So clear and yet so ambiguous. The word `neutralize' was developed as a military term. It was psychologically easier to talk about `neutralizing the enemy' than to talk about killing a living, breathing human being with hopes, dreams, a family and a dog who loved him. It was a useful euphemism, embraced by police departments everywhere: An incident occurs and the perpetrator is `neutralized', rarely `killed'. It sounds cleaner. Killing Jordan and Miles was undoubtedly what the Board had in mind. Happily, there was another way to neutralize them, though it was risky and might still cost them their lives. The island – and Flight 12 – are key components of The Project, which, if successful, will re-invent the universe. Or, I should say, universes. The island is a sort of beta-test for a second universe – in fact, we call it Betaworld. It will go out of existence at the end of the year, whether or not The Project is successful. If The Project fails, Betaworld will simply expire and the existing universe – Alphaworld – will go on as usual. But if The Project is successful, both universes will be replaced without anyone realizing it – improved, in Stimulever's view. But launching The Project is difficult – a complex series of events must take place, according to `the physics'. Betaworld's been around for over three years – the age of the island. In most locations, it's been dormant during that time, but we've activated pieces of it where and when necessary. Barry, for example, has been in Betaworld for several months; we needed him to engage with Hamish in Santo Domingo and become employed by ZTA – which doesn't exist in Alphaworld. Previous ZTA flights `crashed' on the island, providing Hamish with lieutenants and bottoms for them to play with until . . . well, their Alpha-lives continued unabated, so we won't mourn them too much. Even Beta-immolated Felix and Martín are living healthy, if criminal, lives in Alphaworld. American flight 462 (whose digits both add to 12 and divide evenly into it) departed Miami in both universes. The Alphaworld version continued uneventfully to Aruba. The Betaworld flight experienced the emergency landing at Grand Turk and the division of the passengers among two flights. Those who caught the first flight were reunified into Alphaworld after they landed in Aruba, unaware of any discontinuity. For those on Flight 12, it was a bit more complicated. Those seated on the left side of Flight 12, like those on the first flight, had a dual existence. Their Alphaworld versions had a great time in Aruba. In Betaworld, they wound up on the island while their relatives mourned their loss. Those on the right side – those we call the Twelve – were transferred completely into Betaworld – at some point during the flight. I wasn't sure if it was before or after Percy switched the seats of Kowalczyk and Onslow. One of them had an Alpha-life, but I wasn't sure which. One side effect of transferring someone completely into Betaworld is that memory of them vanishes in Alphaworld. With two notable exceptions, no one in Alphaworld remembers any of the Twelve. However, due to the amount of energy required, this feature was not fully actualized for those transitioning earlier. Hamish's lieutenants still existed in the minds of those who had known them in Alphaworld, but a plausible explanation was created to account for their absence. For example, Seth remembered Ian, but thought he simply flew to Martinique and decided not to come back. Shit, as they say, happens. There was supposed to be an absolute firewall between the two worlds. No one – other than Stimulever personnel – was to even be aware of the other world's existence. And yet here were Jordan and Miles, who had somehow managed to breach the divide and slip into Betaworld long enough to be aware of Flight 12's existence (though they didn't know about the island). Falcon sealed the breach, returning them to Alphaworld, but they'd already discovered the existence of Flight 12 and ZTA; while ZTA exists only in Betaworld, Stimulever exists in Alphaworld – and Miles and Jordan were able, with the help of Miles' hacker friend, to contact it. So how did Jordan and Miles slip through? The firewall blocked everyone except gay men romantically involved with a Flight 12 passenger. Of which there were, presumably, none. The database – which includes every living human on the face of the earth – had erroneously coded Jordan as female, so he was missed. Jordan's brief journey into Betaworld was long enough to experience Flight 12's disappearance; after transitioning back to Alphaworld, he demanded answers about a flight and an airline that didn't even exist there. Then Jordan met Miles King. Whom Jesús considered another snafu. His relationship with Victor Torrance should have been in the database. He should not have been able to penetrate the wall. This, I knew, was bullshit. The relationship with Vic had, in fact, been entered into the database. And then deliberately deleted. I know this because I'm the one who deleted it. You see, Miles was part of the plan. Not the plan for The Project. MY plan. MY plan was to make sure that The Project never launched. FUCK ROOM B – LEO I've had lots of sex in my young life, but always as a top – until now. Now I was in trouble. These goddamned assholes. These pricks. Funny how calling someone a prick and calling them an asshole both mean the same thing. Well, I was no asshole, I was all prick. I wish I wasn't, because several guys were paying the wrong kind of attention to my prick. There was a cord around my balls, squeezing me tight, winching it so hard I thought the cord would slice through my bag. Which meant my cock was rigid, of course, standing there at attention. They put me on a scale – why, I wasn't sure, but I didn't think it was for any reason I would like. The scale registered my weight to the thousandth of a gram. And then they pushed me to my knees. Here it goes, I thought, Leo becomes a cocksucker. Only that wasn't what happened. Each of them started to stroke their cocks, working them as if to shoot their loads in my face. But when the first of them – Alec – approached climax, he ordered "Open up" and, from three inches away, shot his load into my mouth, making me swallow it. I've sucked the occasional cock in my life, but I never let them cum in my mouth. This time I wasn't even sucking them off, but I had to swallow the creamy white ejaculate – which I failed to find delicious. I thought, "in the future, I'll continue to make them cum onto, not into, my body". I was then hauled up and weighed again. What was that about? I was quickly pushed down on my knees while Mac readied his load for me – and shot it into my mouth. Again, I was raised to my feet and weighed. By this time, Lander had entered the room, and he started to stroke himself – guess where his milky discharge wound up? As he was working on his cock, other lieutenants entered the room. Lander was followed by Ian, and Atticus, and Anthony – and, eventually, all the others. Each time, I was weighed, and I realized it was a contest – who could spew the most spunk into me, determined by the increase in my body weight. The three who had emptied the largest loads into good ol' Leo's mouth got their reward – they fucked me. Alec, Dane, and Atticus were the winners. How could I explain that I was a goddam TOP? I will not put up with this. My father is a British knight. My grandfather is in the House of Lords. When they find out, whoever is doing this is going to be in a shitload of trouble. My father may hate my guts, but he will protect his son. He will make sure these people pay. Once I get out of here. And I will get out of here. I'll find a way. THE THRONE ROOM – BARRY Something was going on. Hamish and Percy were conversing quietly, as if they didn't want me to hear. I had just finished blowing each of them – I don't understand what it is about this place, but it seems like they have an endless supply of semen down here. - (Hamish) Boy. Don't tell me you want more sex. I'm worn out. - Yes, Master? I have learned to be politically correct. - Our full complement of left-siders has arrived now. We have Derisian. - Do you wish me to complement you on that, Master? Politically correct fused with sarcasm. - Do you know what that means, boy? - No, but I'm sure you'll tell me, Master. - We have too many bottoms. We're over our limit. - So you'll let one of them go? - . . . In a manner of speaking. We'll send him to a better place, at least that's the euphemism. - . . . You're not saying . . . - Oh, Barry, I'm not going to set him on fire. You can choose a less painful method. - . . . Did you say . . . I . . . can choose a less painful method? - You're a dom, aren't you? So dominate. - Master. Am I . . . are we talking about what I think we're talking about? - It depends on what you're thinking we're talking about. - I think you're talking about killing one of them. - That is correct. - And . . . I hope I'm reading too much into it, but . . . it sounds like you want ME to . . . - See, Percy? I told you we had a smart doggie. - No, Hamish. That's a flat no. I won't do it. I'm not a killer. I don't care what you – Yaaaaahhh! That last bit was the sound I emitted when flames erupted from my right thigh. I screamed bloody murder – poor choice of words – and tried desperately to smother the flames with my hands, there being nothing in reach – just as there hadn't been in Santo Domingo when he had dispatched Felix and Martín. Just as rapidly, it vanished. I was on fire for about two seconds, the most intense pain I had ever felt in my life. I was suddenly imbued with empathy for all those medieval heretics who were burned at the stake – if there was a more excruciating way to die, I can't imagine what it was. - Now, Barry boy. You have three choices. Choice number one: you can carry out the execution as humanely as you choose. Choice number two: you can let me execute him, in which case I will choose death by fire, one of my specialties, as you know. Choice number three: I can make you the sacrifice and promote Phil to royal pooch. - Phil? - He's the excess. The twelve bottoms we need are from the left-side of the plane. Your co-pilot is the odd man out. We've already prepped him by taking his balls, as you've noticed. - You want me to murder Phil? - It's your choice, Barry, I gave you three options. You – or him, one of you has to go. But if you don't do the deed, there's going to be fire involved. - . . . Can I shoot him while he's asleep, so he's completely unaware? - If that's your choice. - You have a gun? - I can set you on fire from across the room and you think I can't produce a gun? - And he doesn't have to feel any pain? - No, he doesn't. - . . . Okay. I'll do it. Yeah, I'm a coward. Criticize my moral weakness all you want. But if you had felt the flames on your skin, if you had known what he could do to me – or Phil – would you have chosen otherwise? THE WOODS – SETH I had found traces of Abe, and yet I had lost the battle. They had him. But who they were, where they were, and what their plans were – all a mystery. Why did they want Abe? And why were they writing notes to me? `STAY NAKED – THAT IS YOUR ONLY CHANCE'. WHY were they keeping me naked – some kind of practical joke? Hey, Sid, how's this for a gag: We take some dude, kidnap his boyfriend on a remote island, and then tell him he has to stay naked or else – only we don't tell him what the `or else' is. And the poor schlump has to stay naked twenty-four/seven without having the slightest idea why. And we live-stream it to people all over the globe. `The Truman Show' meets `Naked and Afraid' – whaddaya think? I walked up the beach to the point where the brook had flowed into the ocean. I retraced my steps, knowing it would lead to the bathing place. But before I got there, I got a surprise. This one was not quite blue, not quite purple. The violet dodecagon. Only – I had walked past this place yesterday, and had seen no such dodecagon. I was certain of that. It hadn't been there. Harry had seen Paul being swallowed by a blue dodecagon, which then disappeared. Jasper had returned to the site of the amber dodecagon (where Leo had done his naked dance) and it had disappeared. If dodecagons could disappear – could they spontaneously appear as well? If so, it changed the whole ballgame. We couldn't tell everyone to avoid the dodecagons if they could pop up where they had never been before. I looked at the sky. Maybe an hour of daylight left. I wasn't yet to the bathing spot, and the Tower was a good half-hour's hike from there. I quickened my pace. I definitely did not want it to be dark before I managed to reach the Tower. FLASHBACK: SETH (CLEVELAND) – five years ago - The thing is, I don't know what this is. - It's coffee. - I didn't mean the drink. I meant our relationship. - I know. - All I know is you're hot, and I can't resist you. - That's enough for me. - Is it? Because it's not enough for me. I . . . I think we should stop with the games. - The games. - The dom-and-sub stuff. - I thought you liked that. - I did. I do. And yet . . . it's wrong. All wrong. For two reasons. One is that, if we're going to play, I'd like to be on top. - You want to dominate me? - I want to dominate SOMEONE, yes. It's my impulse, it's my drive. And yet – I don't. - Well that seems as clear as a pea-soup fog. - A relationship has to be more than sex, Sean. - It is. I genuinely care for you. - Do you? Sometimes I think you just want my body. - I want your body. But not just your body. - Care to elaborate on that? - I love you, Seth. - Well, that's some elaboration. Why? I'm a piece of shit. - Far from it. Seth, the more I've gotten to know you, the more I see your depth. You are a caring, emotional, responsible, decent human being. - Who's cheating on his wife with another man. - Ah, that's what it really is, isn't it? Guilt over Megan. - She doesn't deserve this, Sean. - Do you love her? - . . . I . . . don't want to hurt her. - In other words, no. - Okay, I don't love her. I don't think I ever did. But I love my boys, and if I divorce Megan I won't have them. At least, not very often. - Are you willing to give me up because you're afraid of losing your boys? - No. I'm between a rock and a hard place. - I hope I'm the hard place. - (rueful smile) Yeah. You're a hard place. You're hard and you're a place I can't . . . what's that phrase from "Brokeback"? I can't quit you. - Do you have to? We've been together for three months and Megan is none the wiser. - We can't go on like this forever. - We don't know that. We don't know what the future will bring. We don't have to make decisions now, Seth. - God, I do want you, Sean. - Then come back to bed. You don't have to pick up the boys until four, right? I went back to bed. And then, after a lovely cuddle, I made the worst mistake of my life: I fell asleep. * * * * * * * * WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 5 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER – AUGIE After he got back last night, Seth proposed a plan for doing trips to the stream in pairs. That way, we could have multiple trips to bring back water, which we could share before the next pair went, and we'd keep hydrated better. We could also use the opportunity to wash some clothes, as long as we left enough for guys to cover themselves. Dai and Tim had been the first pair to go, washing shirts for those who still had them. Seth asked for volunteers to go next, and wash underwear and socks. A third group would wash pants. I thought it was time for me to step up, and volunteered for the second trip. - (Seth) Who'll go with him? - (Lucas) I will. - (Seth) No way. - (Lucas) What do you mean, no way. - (Harry) Lucas, it's your birthday. December 5th. - (various people) Happy birthday. - (Lucas) Thanks, guys, but it's no big deal. So it's my birthday, so what? - (Harry) Both Paul and Leo disappeared on their birthdays. - (Lucas) Are you shittin' me? You worried something will happen? I'm a big boy, Self-Appointed-Boss-Man, I can take care of myself. I'm not afraid of a stupid slab of granite in the forest. - (Seth) Lucas, you can't go. Last night I saw a dodecagon where there hadn't been one before. - (Lucas, imitating the `Twilight Zone' theme) Doo-doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo. Is that the best you could do, Naked Cowboy? No one made you the boss of me, and you can stop your macho posturing and let a man do his job. I need a bath and I will volunteer to wash underwear. But somebody give me their shoes – Leo stole mine. Vic, what size you wear? - (Vic) Twelve. - (Lucas) Perfect. Lend them to me, will ya? Augie, let's go, away from these self-righteous prigs. And that was that. There was no dissuading Lucas, and eventually Seth just sighed and let him go with me. I was grateful that it was Lucas accompanying me, because at least he was straight. I'd decided Seth, Harry, Leo, and Paul were all gay, and the rest were probably straight, though I wasn't sure about Dai or Jasper. And of course Cody was straight but Ray was gay. I tried to hang out with the straight guys as much as possible. And so we were off. But Lucas wasn't following the usual path to the stream. - We're too far south, Lucas. - Relax, Texas. We keep walkin' west, we'll run into it. Doesn't have to be the same spot we used before. Maybe we'll find a better one. As he predicted, we did encounter the stream and spent some time washing clothes before it was time to slip into the stream and wash the grime off our own bodies. I wished we had some soap, but water would have to do. As always, I didn't like to undress in front of others, but a hundred feet or so downstream it veered off to the right and if I went past the bend I'd be protected from Lucas' eyes. Not that I had to worry about Lucas, I was sure he was straight, but I just felt uncomfortable. Arriving there, I undressed, leaving my clothes along the bank, and I slipped into the water, which was colder than I remembered it. And then I saw it. Another one of those medallions, the ones we were told to avoid. It was not quite blue, and not quite purple. Violet. I panicked and, not thinking fast enough, called out. - Lucas! - Yeah, what? - There's one of them down here. - Be right there, Tex. - No. You don't have to do that! I should have gotten out of the stream and dressed before I yelled, but before I knew it, there was Lucas jogging toward me, without bothering to clothe himself. - Whoa, look at that! - Yeah, we've got to get out of here. - Hell, no. Come on, let's check it out. - Lucas, we're supposed to avoid them. - Yeah? What's the harm? What did it do – it made guys take off their clothes, right? We're already naked, the worst it can do is make us dance. Don't you like to dance, Texas? And he started off toward it. - Lucas, you shouldn't go there by yourself. It's – - Then come join me. Be my chaperone. Keep me from doing something stupid. Lucas had the look of a man perfectly willing to do something stupid. I grabbed my jeans, stepped into them and headed after him. Another wrong-headed move. Lucas reached the medallion and started dancing. I reached it but stood resolutely a few feet away, unsure of what I should do. - Lucas, get off that thing! - This is fun, Tex! Come join me! - No way. I'm not going onto that thing. - Wanna bet? Suddenly he dashed off the medallion and grabbed me, pulling me onto it. Lucas was mad strong, and he caught me off guard; before I knew it I was on it. I was struggling to get out of his grip, but he put his arms around my waist, threw me down toward the floor, and straddled my waist. I was so startled I lost my breath. He stood over me triumphantly as if he had conquered me, grinning. I didn't move, waiting to catch my breath and to give myself time to figure out how to get off the medallion and get away from Lucas. If I tried to sit up, he'd just push me down again. Likewise if I tried to wriggle out vertically. My only hope was to kick out his legs and throw him off balance; then maybe I could roll to the side and scramble away. He must have read my mind, because he then repositioned his feet so that he was standing on my hands. I couldn't move them. I was trapped. I just looked up at him. And watched in horror as his penis began to rise toward the sky. - You want to take off those jeans, Texas, or shall I? - Lucas, what are you doing? - I'm having fun. This thing is making me horny as hell, and it's time I did something about it. - Lucas, stop it! It's controlling you! You don't want to do this. - The hell I don't! I've been wanting to do this since I first saw you. You're my type, Augie. You're just damn lucky I didn't meet you in Chicago. - Why? What would have been different in Chicago? He didn't answer, but just smiled. FLASHBACK: LUCAS (CHICAGO) – May, last year (continued from Ch. 15) - You live out of town, Ernie? - We're going to Stefan's place. He's my partner in crime, so to speak. - Looks like we're in the country. - People don't realize that Cook County has farmland. You can be in Cook County and still have complete privacy. We could have sex outdoors and no neighbors could see us. - Ooh, cool. Can we do that? I've never been naked outdoors. - Not even skinny-dipping? - Not even skinny-dipping. - Well, you are going to be naked outdoors, my friend. We're going full Monty upon arrival. Stefan was waiting for us upon arrival, already in the nude. Lance grinned when he saw him and said, - Looks like someone can't wait to get started. - Let's go inside. - I thought we were going to do this outside. - We will. But some of our equipment is down in the cellar. - Equipment? - You said you were ready to play with two men. We're going to work you over a little before we reward you with our cocks. - Oh, man, am I looking forward to that. Spitroasting. A cock in the mouth, a cock in the ass. I've never experienced that. I've never even been in a threesome before. - Life is full of new experiences, Lance. Now strip! We took him downstairs and tied him to the St. Andrew's cross. From there he had a good view of the row of eight skulls on the shelf across from him. - Whoa, where'd you get the skulls? Are they real? - How would we get real skulls? You can't exactly order them from Etsy. Fake ones you can order, though you have to use multiple sources if you want them to look different. - Cool. - We've just arranged for a ninth one. They're costly, though – the realistic ones. Mounted on the St. Andrew's, we flogged his chest, thighs, and genitals – not too hard, we didn't want to really mark him. And then, while he was still restrained, we brought out the straight razor. - Whoa, Ernie, you're not going to use that. - If I put my mouth around somebody's cock, I don't want to be tasting hair. I need you clean-shaven. I don't think you should have any chest hair, either. Or pits, I hate hairy armpits. - Are you going to shave . . . everything? - Not your head. - Please, no, Ernie, I mean, I go to the gym, guys are going to see me. What am I going to say when they see me `down there'. - Tell them you caught lice. Tell them the name of some girl you caught them from and you'll be a big man in the locker room. Not to mention that without your bush, you'll look bigger. - (Stefan) Anyway, you don't have a choice. You're rather at our mercy now, aren't you? Stefan could grin in the friendliest way. Lance grinned back at him. - Yeah, I guess I am. Well, it'll grow back. Thanks for the lice story. That'll be a good cover. - Good, `cause you aren't getting any cover today. It's all nude all the time, boy. Deprived of body hair, he looked stunning. Naturally, he was oblivious of the real reason we were shaving his body. We turned him over and flogged his back and lovely, lovely rump before taking the razor to the few places on his back half that bore hair. - Now you want to go outside and get fucked? - You bet! We went into the warm spring air. He was struck by the smell. This was a city boy, and not used to the smells of a farm. - God, what's that stink? - Manure. To be specific, pig manure. - You raise pigs? - This is a farm. - I know but I thought, you'd, like, grow corn. - We have crops, but we also raise pigs. Butcher them ourselves. Sometimes we have a pig roast. - What's that thing? - That's our outdoor barbecue. We roast our pigs on it. It's got a crank on it, see – an automated one, like a rotisserie in the deli. - Cool. - We put one end in the pig's mouth, and the other one up its ass. - Really? Up its ass? - And then we tie its limbs to the spit rods to secure it, so when we start the rotisserie, it rotates smoothly over the fire and cooks evenly. We have to make sure it can't move. - What do you mean, move? Isn't it dead? - No, long pig tastes better when it's cooked alive. - Long pig? What's long about it? - Well, it's longer than a normal pig is. . . . Aren't you, boy? - Huh? - You said you wanted to be spitroasted. Well, here's a spit. Get on it, we're going to roast you. - Ha ha. Very funny. I think I'll settle for being spitroasted by your cocks. - Actually, you'll settle for being spitroasted over an open flame. Long pig Lance. He saw we were serious. Before he could start to run, Stefan hit him over the head with a pan to stun him enough that we could mount him on the rotisserie without much resistance. One end down his throat, the other literally skewering his ass. And then we started him spinning. - Lance, you were right – those were real skulls. And yours will be a great addition to our shelf. Thanks for the contribution, pal. You came along just in time – the meat larder was getting a bit low. You'll be our ninth victim. Halfway to our goal. Nine more and we pass Jeffrey Dahmer. Stefan – get the firewood, would you? THE WOODS - AUGIE - I need my fun, Texas. Why do you think you got paired up with me? Because Seth backed down when I insisted on it. He thinks he's a leader but he'll find out who the real leader is in this group. And the real leader will have anybody he wants any time he wants. - Lucas, it's the medallion. It's doing it to you. You're not a homo. - The hell I'm not! He grabbed my waist, ripped open the snap and pulled down the zipper. My jeans were off me before I knew it. He was just so powerful. I don't want to describe what happened next. We were both naked, he flipped me over onto my stomach, he was stronger than me. And he had an erection. The worst of it was that I got a hard-on and he followed up his sodomistic act by jerking me off, which was humiliating, particularly since I hadn't jacked off in over a week and the orgasm felt really good, even while my ass was in pain. When it was over, he slapped me on the butt. - That was great, Tex. We'll have to do that again soon. I'll make sure we go on water duty together tomorrow. I said nothing in response. I stumbled into my jeans and headed back to where I had left my shirt, shoes and socks. Lucas didn't follow, choosing to stay on the violet medallion. That was fine by me. I didn't want to go back to the Tower with him, anyway. I'd walk upstream to the place where we normally went to get water; I knew the way back from there. I reached the place where I had left the rest of my clothes, but couldn't find them. There hadn't been enough wind to blow them away – much less my shoes. Had Lucas – ? I turned back to him to accuse him of . . . I didn't know what, and saw that he was still on the violet medallion – and behaving strangely. He looked like he was hugging something, but his arms were just around a column of air. A moment later, I saw his feet slide backwards and separate, bending him over at the waist. And he started to rock back and forth, as if he himself were being sodomized. The man had just raped me, and I was concerned for his welfare. - Lucas! Do you need help? - Go away, Texas. I'm loving this! A moment later, I thought I saw an image on the floor of the medallion. From this distance, it looked like a dragon. But it was only there for about three seconds. And then the medallion seemed to crumble, collapsing into the earth, and taking Lucas with it. ORANJESTAD, ARUBA – SEAN - You know, Jordan's really hot. - Seriously, Sean? That's the first thing you want to say to me? - (smile) Jealous? - Should I be? - Only if you believe in love at first sight. - Sean, really. - Just kidding, dude. I could really go for Jordan. But you're still my number one, Miles. So what do you have for me? - The hacker's name is Nick Carlyle. He lives in a suburb of Louisville, Kentucky called Shively. He knows Stimulever exists, of course, but doesn't know more than that. - Anyone else we should know about? - Yeah. Jordan has a sister, Jen. Jennifer Murdock. They flew together. She knows about Flight 12. She knows about Augie. Augie's – - I know who Augie is. He's one of The Twelve. Where is Jen now? - She went home. Santa Barbara, California. She's a nice person, Sean. I would hate for anything to – - I'll have to inform Switzerland about her, and Ari is on his way to America – but it may be okay. Right now, Jen only knows about Flight 12 because of her association with Jordan. If I can pull over Jordan completely, then Jordan won't be in Jen's world anymore. She won't remember him – or Augie. And Ari won't have to take her out. Anyone else? - We contacted a lawyer. Jordan wanted to sue and I thought I should support him. We've told some people here, of course – airport officials and a reporter – but they laughed in our face, no worries there. - The lawyer shouldn't be a problem. After Jordan's in Betaworld, neither he nor Jen will be contacting him. Lawyers don't waste time on cases that won't earn money. He'll be safe as long as he doesn't contact Stimulever again. - What about Nick? He doesn't know Vic. He has no ties to anyone on the island. - Yeah, well, he's different. He's a hacker, Miles. Hackers like to cause trouble, it's in their nature, and he might pursue things on his own just because he's intrigued. Ari will handle him. - When you say `Ari will handle him –' - He has to go, Miles. Nick will be in tomorrow's news. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – PIECING THINGS TOGETHER]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-1	Date: Sun, 28 Jan 2024 17:22:40 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 1 (Authoritarian?) FLIGHT 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel [Author's Note: Should you read this story? I'll tell you about it, and you can decide. If you are seeking quick gratification, this may not be your cup of tea. My aspiration is to create an erotic adventure story with identifiable characters and a compelling plot. It could be at home in either Authoritarian or Science Fiction - it's a bit of a hybrid. While the framework of the story is definitely sci-fi (of the 'what's going on here' variety), it's a human story with strong authoritarian elements - although these may not be immediately evident. I promise you plenty of sex, but be patient - Chapter One, for example, is all exposition. "Flight 12" is a full-length, plotted-out novel. I've completed the first draft, so you need not worry that it will sputter to a halt in the middle when I get bored writing it. I won't post it all at once, however, as I plan to tweak each chapter (review for inconsistencies, improve the writing) before uploading. The major inspirations for "Flight 12" were the American TV series LOST and an ancient myth. Familiarity with LOST is unnecessary � this isn't fan-fiction and has a vastly different plot, but if you know the show's basic premise you'll spot the influence. As for the myth: most characters are loosely linked to it, but as writing developed, myth-adherence took a back seat to plot construction. Nonetheless, if you want to play myth detective, there are a number of `Easter eggs'. I'll lay it all out afterwards. Full disclosure: as in any adventure story worth its salt, danger is an element and occasional casualties may be incurred. When they are, it is purely to advance the plot and heighten suspense. I hope you decide to read "Flight 12", and I hope you like it. � Travis Creel] * * * * * * * * PROLOGUE � MONDAY, DECEMBER 31 ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND � JES�S The Board had objected to their Chairman attending in person. I considered that argument specious � the physical risk to myself was minuscule. But the optics were admittedly better if I subjugated my ego and remained here. Thanks to technology, we could all witness the moment � mere hours away � remotely. - (Paolo) Congratulations, Jes�s. After all those adjustments, The Project has finally arrived! - Chicken-counting is premature, Paolo. Our Trigger Man could still nix this thing. - (Simon) You're confident he will make the right choice? - I'm optimistic, but there's no guarantee when free will is involved. - (Ari) And if he doesn't? - We start over. - (Germ�n) It took years! - (Falcon) It will go faster the second time. - (Fred) It has to launch at midnight. Midnight precisely? What if he stalls? - Thibaut, want to answer that? - (Thibaut) The Project will launch at midnight if the Trigger acts within a twelve-minute window before then. He can't act too early, or even one second after midnight. If he does, The Project fails. The physics are very clear on that. - (Dion) Midnight � our time or theirs? - (Demetrius) Seriously, Dion? You don't know? - (Dion) I'm too busy planning the launch party. Champagne, caviar, filet mignon. - Better make it champagne and Eggs Benedict. Midnight on the island. Six a.m. here. - (Arturo) Any clue as to which of us � ? - The announcement will be made when the launch window opens, not before then. I know you're anxious, but you recognize why I can't make the reveal until then. - (Ari) Jes�s, you understand that if The Project fails, the Board may seek new leadership. - . . . I'm well aware of that, Ari. I'm also well aware of who you think that new leader should be. THE ISLAND � SETH It was seven minutes to midnight. The moment had arrived. This was the most consequential decision I would make in my entire life. And I wasn't even sure what the consequences were. Would Jes�s carry out his threats? Could I trust his word? He had lied before, but then he wasn't the only liar in the room, was he? If I acted, it would alter the course of the world � unless it wouldn't. Maybe this thing would be a colossal failure. And then my actions would be merely tragic. They could cost me . . . everything. But if I did not act, there would be dire consequences � if I could believe him. Immediate ones � and future ones. To act, or not to act? Hamlet, I totally get you. Hamish faced me, awaiting my decision. Jes�s, on the monitor, peered at me intensely. I took a deep breath, and spoke. *************************************** CHAPTER ONE � LET'S GO TO ARUBA * * * * * * * * FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 30 (one month earlier) * * * * * * * * CLEVELAND, OHIO � SETH I needed the break. We both did. The last few weeks had had its ups and downs, and I was beginning to feel a little less secure about `us'. We didn't live together. I wanted us to. After Megan � and the less said about that, the better � I'd gone through boyfriend after boyfriend; even though I was far from sure, I felt like Abe was The One. Mostly, I thought Abe felt that way, too. The trip to Indiana two weeks ago had clearly brought us closer. But it hadn't solved it; there was something else troubling him, close to the surface. He'd snap at me for little things like asking if he'd gotten the research data from Ann Arbor. ("No, I haven't! Just leave it the fuck alone!") I felt like it was more than the stress over his father and frustration over his dissertation. And then he didn't go with me to the Pearl Jam concert last Friday night. Sure, they're getting on in years, and Abe's tastes and mine have always diverged, but he usually accompanies me when a favorite band of mine is in town, and I let him drag me to the symphony and even (sigh) the opera. But this time he said no, without citing a reason. Which left me both annoyed and suspicious. On Monday, Ann Arbor sent notice that they would release the data he had been seeking on December 10th. Which meant he could make no further progress until then. Perfect time for a break, I told him. Get your mind off it, fly somewhere and bask in the sun. Saturday's your birthday, we need to celebrate it. Lately I'd been seeing a multitude of advertisements plugging Aruba; special offers kept popping up on my laptop. It seemed like the perfect spot for a romantic getaway. - Look, there's nothing urgent at the office � I can take a few days off. How about a long weekend someplace warm? Leave Friday, back Tuesday. Refresh, re-establish, enjoy each other � without a thought of anything other than sun, sand, and Sex on the Beach. - The drink or the activity? - Depends on what kind of beach. I could hear his grin over the phone. - And where might this beach be? Florida? - I was thinking Aruba. - Kinda far, but attractive. - Good, `cause I've reserved flights and a hotel there. - . . . Nice of you to consult me beforehand. - Reserved does not mean paid for. Free cancellation within 24 hours. I wouldn't commit without checking with you. - What if I don't decide within 24 hours? - Then I'll cancel and rebook when you make up your mind. Abe took 21 of those 24 hours before making up his mind. But he did. So this morning we were off to Hopkins, thence to fly to Miami, thence to connect to American Airlines flight 462, direct to Queen Beatrix Airport, Oranjestad, Aruba. Huzzah. COCKBURN, TURKS AND CAICOS � SETH It was past hurricane season, but tell that to global warming. The pilot announced that, in order to avoid Tropical Storm Viv, we would take an initial course to the east. Abe joked about this leading us into the Bermuda Triangle � less funny when the pilot announced that due to mechanical problems we needed to make an emergency landing. We set down at JAGS McCartney Airport at Cockburn, on the island of Grand Turk. Abe posited that it was named for both Mick Jagger and Paul McCartney, but a plaque inside the tiny airport informed us that it was actually named for "James Alexander George Smith McCartney". His parents must have had a hard time deciding on a name. Bad news: it would take at least 24 hours to fix the (undisclosed) mechanical problem. American couldn't furnish a replacement plane earlier than that, but a new regional carrier, ZTA (Zen Tropical Airways, which sounded both exotic and relaxing), could supply a plane that would take most of us to Aruba, departing in 75 minutes. MOST of us? Well, ZTA's plane had fewer seats. Those left behind could take ZTA's regularly-scheduled 7:00 flight to Santo Domingo, for which plenty of seats were available. Unfortunately, the next plane from there to Aruba wasn't until tomorrow morning. They couldn't separate out the checked baggage, so it would all go on the first flight. They solicited volunteers without bothering to bribe us with cash or free future flights. Guess how many there were. You got it: zero. So then they announced the protocol they would use to determine who got on the direct flight. The first two priorities were logical: those with medical conditions and families with children. Then came the wacko move: ZTA claimed they had to give women priority over men, according to their operating charter. Their husbands could join them, but no other male traveling companions. No boyfriends, bosses, brothers, or whatevers. The rest of us were left seething, contemplating lawsuits, and wondering how the remaining seats would be filled. They started calling names, and it became obvious they were selecting passengers in descending order of age. Given that I was a month shy of 29 and Abe a day shy of 25, we seemed destined to be leftovers. I was surprised to see a man with graying hair remain behind. He was at least in his upper forties and spoke with an English accent. After they called the last name, he strode to the desk to complain. I was sufficiently close to eavesdrop. - Excuse me, I didn't hear my name. Sir Edward Niemann? Sir Edward? We had a British knight on our flight? - (agent) I'm sorry, sir, your name's not on the list. - Obviously, you were giving preference to older passengers. I should have been selected. - Sir, the plane is completely full. I can't bump someone already on board. Sir Edward looked like he was going to say, `Oh, yes you can,' but must have decided he was too English to make a scene. He sat down next to a young man no more than twenty, who looked to be his son. The boy had a long mane of red hair, an unkempt beard, and a face that connoted immaturity, impatience, and intransigence. And he was clearly peeved. While Sir Edward appeared British to the core, the young man spoke with an American accent. Perhaps they had migrated across the pond when he was a boy. - Why did you do that? - I should have been given priority. I am a KBE, after all, and older than all these left-behinds. - You're that anxious to get away from me. - Don't be obtuse. I would have insisted you board with me. Fathers traveling with children. - I'm not a child. I'm nineteen. I can look after myself. - Evidence to the contrary, Leo. - Fuck you, Dad. A heartwarming family scene. There were about twenty other leftovers � all under forty, many of them hot, several of them gay, according to my gaydar. Then again, my gaydar is often overoptimistic. I felt the need for chat, but had to be careful; Abe did not need to witness me jabbering with a sexy guy who might well be gay. Abe himself was deeply ensconced in his kindle, reading a set of short stories by Agatha Christie. He liked that sort of thing. No accounting for taste. There was a chubby guy nearby who was safe. Even if he was gay, he certainly didn't attract me. COCKBURN, TURKS AND CAICOS � HARRY I knew this trip was a mistake. What was I thinking � I'm going off to Aruba to find fun and romance? I'd seen lots of ads promoting snorkeling in Aruba, and I'd thought: all those tropical fish � wow, that would be spectacular, wouldn't it? Once I got there, I'd go snorkeling! If I could work up the nerve. I didn't exactly look great in swimming trunks. Why was I even thinking of going to a beach resort? Why did I book a place recommended as gay friendly? One look at me in swimming trunks would evoke suppressed giggles or unsuppressed scorn. Like my entire life. Face it, Harry, you're a failure at the age of twenty-seven. The gods were trying their best to send me that message. First I nearly miss my flight to Miami. Then we have mechanical issues and have to emergency-land. Then they load up a plane to Aruba and I'm not on it. Someone up there is telling me I'm not supposed to go. Got the message, guys. So here I am with two dozen men, most of whom set my hormones ablaze. One in particular � five-o'-clock shadow, rugged face, rugged body. I could easily see him as a shirtless bartender at the Tinderbox. Not that I've ever been in the Tinderbox myself. But I've been across the street sometimes, fantasizing. And he was barely three feet from me. I needed to avert my eyes. - Just how you wanted to spend your vacation, huh? What? Was he speaking to me? There was a dude next to him, but he was buried in a kindle, and my fantasy man was looking straight at me. Apparently thinking, "We're stuck here for a while, might as well break the boredom by chatting with the nearest available human." Which, alas for him, was me. - Yes, I'm thrilled. When I booked, I specifically asked for the Mechanical Problems Special. Also, I'm collecting small airports of the world and now I can check JAGS McCartney Field off my list. That was my defense mechanism kicking in. Humor. Jolly fat man image, you know. What else was I to do when this gorgeous hunk was talking to me? - I hope you got a discount. - On the contrary. I paid extra. You didn't book the Mechanical Problems Special? - I like to be surprised. Oh, god, look at that smile. I could melt. Maybe if I melted, I'd be slim enough that he'd find me attractive. Stop it, Harry, just revert to jovial sidekick mode. - Well, I'm glad they could surprise you. I also purchased the Rejection Add-on, so that I wouldn't get picked for the first flight. - I think you got your money's worth. (extending a hand) Seth Herrick. - (oh, we're doing introductions?) Harry Mancini. Not to be confused with Hairy Mankini, which I am sometimes called. Because I look great in a mankini, I'm sure you can tell that. - Are you hairy? - You'll never find out. Omigod, did I just say that? Like I'm flirting with the dude. - Some people call me Harry Manthini, because on occasion I have a tendenthy to lithp. And why did I say THAT? I haven't lisped since I was four. For some reason, I just announced that I'm gay. Good going, Harry. Shut up before you embarrass yourself further. - Where you from, Harry? - Philly. - We're from Cleveland. Yeah, I figured he was part of a `we'. The dude with the kindle heard the `we' and looked up. He took one look at me, nodded politely, and went back to his kindle. Ah, no worries. No chance his partner was flirting with anyone cute. Just talking to the fat guy. - Abe's not feeling social at the moment. Too interested in solving mysteries. Apparently, in the first story, Poirot solves a doggie kidnapping. No wonder he can't tear himself away. - Well, I'm going to tear myself away to catch a quick bite. Nice to meet you, Seth Herrick. - Nice to meet you, Harry Mancini. I wasn't hungry, but a fat guy in search of food was always a credible exit strategy. I needed to escape Mr. Seth Herrick and the anti-social Abe. Both of whom turned me on, for different reasons. Hey, maybe the three of us could bang around Aruba together. Share margaritas in a hot tub, go to a nude beach, hire some cabana boys for the night. And, to paraphrase Dorothy Parker, maybe the Statue of Liberty is located in the middle of Lake Ontario. COCKBURN, TURKS AND CAICOS � SETH - Did you make a date? - Don't be mean, Abe. - He was obviously drooling all over you. - Did you observe me drooling all over him? - I think you have better taste than that. Now if you started chatting with HIM, I'd be worried. `Him' was a muscular, heavily-tattooed Black who looked like he could play offensive guard for the Cleveland Browns. The only man in the room I couldn't easily take in a fight. - No, you wouldn't. He's not my type at all. He's your type. Should I buy him for your birthday? - If he's not too expensive. - I'll ask. Abe smiled and returned to his kindle. Moments later they announced that we leftovers were all booked on ZTA Flight 12 to Santo Domingo. Tomorrow morning, we would fly to Panama City on Copa, change planes, and be in Aruba by mid-afternoon. Twenty-two hours late. But Abe and I would still have three days together. Surely we were past the worst of it. I mean, what else could happen? COCKBURN, TURKS AND CAICOS � BARRY Captain Barry Russell at your service, although in a certain private space, I was known as Sir Barry, and I was the one being serviced. In my spare time I'm a bdsm dom, with a mostly male clientele. ZTA was the only carrier that ran this route direct. Santo Domingo to Cockburn and back again, twice daily. I had the day off tomorrow � it was my birthday, and I planned to spend it in Santo Domingo, where I had resettled after Paloma had divorced me. I had a client booked and I intended to paddle him into ecstasy (mine, if not his). But then this text appeared on my phone: FLY LEFTOVERS TO ARUBA TONIGHT. My pupils dilated to twice their normal size: It was from HIM. Fuck � NOW? It had been so long since he had contacted me, I was beginning to think I'd escape, maybe he'd forgotten or changed his mind. One job, he'd said, one unspecified job he would send me via text. When I received it, I was to comply immediately. There was a carrot-and-stick involved. The carrot was cash � considerable cash. The stick was � well, terrifying. I had no choice if I valued my life. The problem: In barely an hour, I was piloting ZTA Flight 12, which would transport the leftovers, among dozens of others, to Santo Domingo, but no further; the only ZTA flight bound for Aruba had already departed. HOW DO I GET THEM THERE? NO SCHEDULED ARUBA FLIGHTS. The answer came back: FLIGHT 12. Dammit, Flight 12 doesn't go to Aruba. But I knew what he was capable of: Failure was not an option. I texted ZTA. REQUEST PERMISSION TO CONTINUE FLIGHT 12 TO ARUBA. CAN YOU COORDINATE WITH ATC? ATC was Air Traffic Control. The response was almost immediate: FLIGHT PLAN TO ARUBA HAS BEEN APPROVED. Shit � he'd already arranged it? He wasn't fucking around. Now I had to procure a crew. Flight attendant was no problem: With just 24 passengers, I only needed one, and Percy, a nice-looking Jamaican new to ZTA, was amenable. But co-pilot Phil was a tough sell. To get him to agree, I had to offer him MY overtime pay in addition to his, and remind him that the beaches of Aruba were packed with seduce-able women. After he finally agreed, I passed on the news: CREW IN PLACE. ALL SYSTEMS GO. And got two words in response: GOOD BOY. "Good boy." Like I was the sub. He knew better. One troubling question lingered: How had he known about the leftovers? BETWEEN SANTO DOMINGO AND ORANJESTAD � STAN You don't meet many young guys named `Stan' these days � unless they're Polish. My full name is Stanislaus Kowalczyk, which gets me teased. I put up with it. I put up with a lot � like my wife Magda. I'm taking a vacation � FROM her. Supposedly, we're meeting up in Cartagena after I spend a week in Aruba and she spends a week in Peru, but I half doubt she'll show up and half doubt I will. In Santo Domingo, they made us deplane. When we reboarded, we were assigned new seats, which seemed stupid. A half-hour into the flight, the flight attendant passed through the cabin with a list, checking it against our names; he didn't like where I was sitting. - Sir, you're in the wrong seat. - Excuse me? - You're in 8D. Your seat is 8C. - (looking across the aisle) He was in 8C. So I sat here. - (flight attendant, to 8C) Excuse me? Mister Onslow? - (Onslow, annoyed) What? - (flight attendant) Would you switch seats with this gentleman? You have your seats reversed. - (Onslow) I like the left side. - (flight attendant) You're supposed to be on the right. - Listen � what's your name? - (flight attendant) Percy. - Percy, does it matter? We both have seats, we're in the air, what's the problem? - (Percy) The problem is that you're in 8D, not 8C. He's supposed to be in 8D. - (Onslow) Oh, for fuck's sake. - (Percy) Sir, it's important. - (Onslow) Why? - (Percy) It just is. Please. I looked at Onslow, and he looked at me. This little scene was acquiring the attention of others, and we both decided that the course of least resistance was to just get up and switch seats. So we did. My new neighbor, in 8A, was a smallish twenty-year-old named Al Casey, who looked fresh off the farm from Iowa, but actually was a Costco clerk from Syracuse. He leaned over and whispered to me: - Looks like someone forgot to take his OCD meds. - Life is too short to fuss about such things. It doesn't matter. Actually, it did matter. But that wasn't something Percy could have known � or so I thought at the time. BETWEEN SANTO DOMINGO AND ORANJESTAD � SETH It was dark, about nine, when it happened. The fasten-your-seatbelt sign flashed, the pilot made an announcement, and the handsome flight attendant zipped down the aisle making sure we were all strapped in. He had barely strapped in himself, directly facing Abe, when the first jolt hit. Jolt was an understatement. Had my seat belt not been securely fastened, I'd have bounced out of my seat and banged my head on the overhead compartment. For starters. As the plane shuddered violently, anything unsecured went flying. Abe's kindle sprung from his hands and flew across the cabin. Drinks, freed from their cups, drenched the nearest surface. Safety guides and magazines stored in seatbacks whipped around as if caught in a whirlwind. Overhead bins popped open. My carry-on fell and hit me on my right cheek, drawing blood. I wrapped my right arm over my head, both to shield it and to press my shirt fabric against the wound, to stop the bleeding. Abe's right hand reached across the aisle to grasp my left, as we oscillated up and down several more times. I wanted to vomit and felt like it was just a matter of time. I forgot all about vomiting the second I heard the sound. Like something had snapped. It turned into a crackle, not unlike the sound of metal accidentally placed in a microwave. I watched in horror as the fuselage itself seemed to bend, as if it was trying to fold itself in half. The middle aisle bulged upward a foot or more, as the floor took on a sort of boomerang shape. There was a loud pop, and then suddenly a visible fissure in the aisle, like an earthquake splitting the ground along a fault. Abe's hand flew out of mine as the entire left half of the plane broke away. We were held in our seats by seat belts or maybe we could have stayed together as we died. For there was no doubt we were going to die. I only hoped I would lose consciousness before we hit the surface of the ocean. And that Abe didn't suffer. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER TWO � THIS IS NOT ARUBA]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-28	Date: Wed, 10 Apr 2024 15:57:34 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 28 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: THE SECOND ESCAPE ATTEMPT Previously, on the island's surface: * Ed, angered when Harry suggests that he might be gay, stalks out of the tower � and toward the purple dodecagon that (figuratively) has his name on it. Underground: * Jes�s tells Hamish that Seth must return above ground or the Project is in jeopardy � but it must be voluntary, not forced. He tells him to involve Ian, who has a past history with Seth. * Seth meets with Hamish, who tells him (falsely) that his arrival will necessitate the castration of a left-sider, and that it could be Abe. Seth, accompanied by Ian, is then allowed to see Abe, who asserts his love for Seth after confessing his affair with Sean. * Ian promises to help Seth escape, and tells Seth that he knows the code to the Egress Room for the following day, the 14th. * Augie, after spending the night in shit, is cleaned aggressively, inside and out, and is fucked by two lieutenants � one of whom, to his surprise, is Alfonso, with whom he had a sexual encounter in high school that startled him into committed heterosexuality. He is still reeling from the revelation that Jordan, the woman he was attracted to, is a man. * As a reward for betraying Leo's escape attempt, Percy gave Ian a key to the dark room and the ability to unlock one of the two Bahamians captive there for occasional sex. Ian chose Theo. In flashbacks: * While in college, Ed had a sexual adventure with a fellow student named Ryan Mackenzie; years later, while visiting Leo in Atlanta, he found Ryan in his bed � an encounter set up by Leo, who then sodomized his father after Ryan did. * * * * * * * * THURSDAY, DECEMBER 13 * * * * * * * * THE ENEMA ROOM - AUGIE - You liked my cock in your mouth, didn't you, Augie? - I'm not answering that. - Because you didn't just like it, you loved it. You're a natural cocksucker, Augie. - Well, I don't appreciate what you're doing to my other end. - The enemas or the fucking? - Both. - Sorry, dude, gotta happen. I like your mouth, Penn likes your ass. Maybe later we'll trade roles. But first we gotta clean you out again. - You cleaned me out this morning. - Yes, but then Penn deposited some of his sperm inside. You might be dirty again. Alfonso bent me over a rod while a thick hose was shoved up my ass. I braced myself for the coming liquid onslaught. I screamed. It was scalding hot, seeming to sear the lining of my colon. And then there was a burning sensation that didn't come from the heat. There was some kind of irritant in the water that was torturing my insides. I yelled my head off. Alfonso laughed. - Aaaah! Aaah! Aaah! Those were not `ah's of pleasure. They were the only sounds capable of escaping from my mouth as I had to let the energy go somewhere. It was my protest against the violation of my anal canal. Then there was a cooling sensation, which would have felt relaxing were it not pumping me even more full of water and whatever vile substance it contained. But when I expelled it, even though it burned on the way out, it still was such a release that it felt good. And so, I am ashamed to say, did Alfonso's cock as I sucked on it moments later � while Penn was pounding my ass from behind. And I didn't exactly hate that, this time. The experience of being fucked was growing on me. Shit, I really AM gay. Down here, where my father and Pastor Markson won't ever learn of it, maybe that's okay. But it is it okay with God? I don't know, maybe it is. OUTSIDE THE THRONE ROOM � IAN - Seth, you can't break everyone out. - Why not? That's the reason I came down here. - Look, there's something big planned for the end of the month. I don't know what it is, but it's big. If you want to do something about it, now is not the time. Go up with me and then we'll come back down when it's time. Hamish said you'd see a red dodecagon. That's the time to strike. - Well, I'm taking Abe up with me. That was a non-starter, of course, but I had to win his confidence. - Sure. You can take a couple of guys if they're the right ones. Choose left-siders, they don't care about them so much. Then you'll have more support when you re-invade. I have this guy Stan, I kinda like him, you take him, Abe, maybe one or two others. - Paul and Dai. Paul and Dai were Twelves, and he couldn't take more than one, but I wasn't going to tell him that. Besides, I suspected that Paul and Dai would turn him down. THE DORMITORY � SETH - So are you with me? - (Paul) No. - (Dai) No. - (Paul) We got caught before. We saw what happened. We're not taking that risk again. - I have the code. - (Dai) Leo had the code. And where is he now? I had to restrain myself from looking at Paul's crotch. - (Paul) Look, we hate it here. But we don't want to lose each other. The cruelest thing they could do would be to kill one of us to punish the other. - (Dai) Take Augie, if you can find him. He's straight and will have a hard time adjusting to life here. - Actually, he's not so straight, but I agree, he'd have a tough time here. But I don't know where he is. - (Paul) Ask Ian. - (Dai) Do you trust Ian? - I know him. I knew him before, in Cleveland. - (Paul) Yes, we all seem to know one of the lieutenants. But knowing them isn't the same as trusting them. - Ian is the reason I'm with Abe. I owe him a lot. I have to trust him. - (Dai) You believe him when he says he wants to leave? - Shouldn't I? - (Dai) He's the one who gave Leo the code. - He told me about that. He said he had to win Hamish's trust. Now that he has it, it'll be easier for him to help us. Besides, I've got to trust SOMEBODY. But you're right about one thing. I should try to find Augie. If Ian can help with that, it'll be a first test. - (Dai) Be careful, Seth. Con men always do something to earn your trust before they double-cross you. THE DARK ROOM � ED Is this what greeted Leo when he disappeared? Falling from that dodecagon, only to land on a chair with something unpleasant up your ass? Was Leo used to that feeling? I'd never discussed the particulars of his sexual perversion with him � I think he mostly gave it up the ass, I don't know if he ever took it. Okay, yes, I allowed myself to be drilled by Ryan Mackenzie on two occasions, the first of which was simply a juvenile exploration by two college students who didn't know better. The second, engineered by Leo himself, was the most humiliating experience of my life. I am decidedly NOT an advocate of that sort of lifestyle and if Leo landed on top of a dildo, he probably well deserved it. But I didn't. And yet that's what happened to me. The room was blacker than a moonless night, and I thought I was alone until I heard the grunts of two men on either side of me. They were unknown to me, gentlemen of a Caribbean persuasion, and they were apparently being repeatedly assaulted by some kind of machine � and by `assaulted' I mean raped. I learned that their names were Piers and Theo, and that they were friends who had been on the left side of the plane. They said that the machines were, indeed, fucking them, as punishment for trying to escape; a third man was to have been castrated as punishment, but they didn't know if that had actually happened. And that `Hamish' � I gathered he was a big cheese of some sort � had tried to identify the leader of the escape attempt, but hadn't gotten a clear answer as to who it was. Although, Piers said, they all knew it was a kid named Leo. My heart dropped a foot or two. - Leo? Are you sure of that? - (Piers) Absolutely. Although when they caught us the guy who seemed guilty was this Japanese dude named Dai, and they didn't know which of them was responsible. - (Theo) It sounded like the leader was going to get punished pretty severely. - (Piers) Like � worse than castration. - Leo. Twenty years old, long red hair? - (Theo) That's the dude. - He's my son. - (Theo) Oh, man, I'm sorry. I'm not sure he still is. . . . People die here. Our conversation was interrupted by a wedge of light percolating into the room. A body entered, a shadow to me only visible as a form, and then total darkness again as the door shut. I heard footsteps approaching, then felt hands under my armpits, and I was roughly lifted off the dildo, sending a shock to my anus. Whoever he was, he was strong, picking me up like a sack of peat moss and tossing me over his shoulder, keeping one hand firmly on my bare rump. Somehow in the darkness, he was able to discern where the door was, but before the door was opened, I heard his voice. - Ready to have a bit of fun, Eddie? A Scottish accent. And a timbre that seemed familiar. It couldn't be who it sounded like. But it was. In the bright light of the corridor outside, I peered incomprehensibly at his reprehensible face. - Ryan?? - That's right, laddie, only I go by Mac now. I'm going to fuck you good and proper the way I know you like it, and then we'll see if we can rearrange your mouth a little. That's my specialty down here, you know � after all I am a dentist. But not to worry � you'll be back to normal in the morning. STAN'S CELL - STAN - (Ian) The new Twelve's arrived. - Which means someone's . . . going to lose his . . . - Relax. It's not you. Damaso today. - So my nuts are safe for one more day. Whoopee. - For another four days. - But tomorrow someone has to . . . lose more than his nuts. - Uh, yeah. - Hate to say it, but if Damaso's . . . - Castrated. - God, I wish you wouldn't use that word. But if it's him today, doesn't that mean that tomorrow . . . - He's beheaded? - I wish you wouldn't use that word either. But, wouldn't it be him? - Not necessarily. Could be Al, he's also been castrated. It could also be Abe. - Abe? He's Percy's pet. - He's also Seth's boyfriend. And Hamish has threatened Seth with putting a rather permanent end to that relationship if Seth tries anything stupid. - Like leaving. - Yeah. - Which you want me to do. - Which I want US to do. It will be all right � they actually want Seth to go. - They do? Why? - That I can't answer completely. But it's the perfect opportunity for you and me to get out of here. Because, Stan, it may not be today, but you'll lose your balls eventually. Followed by your head. - Al comes too. I don't want him to be beh- . . . that word. We've got to get him out of here. - Agreed. So you're in? - I'm in. - Great. I'll tell Seth. THE THRONE ROOM - ABE - What's going on? Where are you taking me? Percy won't like this. - (a lieutenant) That's Hamish's problem. He ordered it. - Hamish ordered you to take me out of here? - (a second lieutenant) It's because your boyfriend is here. - (first lieutenant) Lucas, I think that's confidential. - I know Seth is here. I've spoken to him. - (first lieutenant) Well, our job is to keep you away from him. - (Lucas) Rumor has it someone's getting the axe tomorrow � and it might just be you. - Percy would never let that happen. - (first lieutenant) Maybe you're no longer Percy's little pussycat. He's replacing you with a drop-in guest named Jordan. And you're going to have a twenty-four hour guard. Seth came here to get me out. But he won't know where I am if they move me. I'm not worried about what they said � that they'd kill me. Why do that? To hurt Seth, to weaken Seth? They don't know Seth � that would just make him stronger. Seth can be a beast when sufficiently aggravated. You don't want him as an enemy. THE ENEMA ROOM � AUGIE - Alfonso, do you really have to do this? - Yeah, Augie, we do. Certain members of the Twelve have special punishments, and I don't know why. Yours is enemas, but before we clean the shit out of your inside we have to clean it off the outside. I think it's the cleaning that's important, not you spending the night in crap. - Well, couldn't you just get me a little bit dirty rather than stick me in that shower stall all night? - I'll ask. Maybe. The enemas, though � that's non-negotiable. - But they're so painful. Some of them feel like they've got hot chili peppers in them. - Some of them do. But Augie, the reward is that once you're all clean inside, we get to have sex. - . . . - What? You don't like sex? - . . . - You do, Augie, you know you love my cock. - . . . If I do, will I go to hell, Alfie? - `Alfie'. You're calling me Alfie? I have gotten to you, haven't I? - I don't know. . . . Maybe. It's so damn confusing � ever since I found out my girlfriend was a guy, I � - You realized that you really do prefer wieners to hamburger patties. - Jeez, you remember saying that to me? - You remembered it, why shouldn't I? I remember every detail of that afternoon, Augie. I had the hots for you so bad. I still do. You and me � we were meant to be together. - Alfie, don't say that. - I believe it. If not me, then that guy Jordan you thought you were in love with. - No, no, not Jordan. Not after she � after he lied to me like that. - Then drop him and stick with me. - You're talking like I have a future. Do you know what they're going to do with me? - No, Augie, I don't. But let's not worry about them. Today, I know what I'm going to do with you. And I know you're going to like it. Now bend over. Oh, God, I did like it. The power of his tool driving up my backside brought forth a reaction in me I could never have thought possible. Being fucked by Alfonso was a joy; I guess that's what made it a sin. I noticed he never answered my question about going to hell. Part of me still wondered if I was already in hell � and Alfie and Penn would fuck me for all eternity. But . . . If Alfie was fucking me and I ENJOYED it, then this couldn't be hell, could it? It certainly wasn't heaven, so both of us must still be alive. Which meant that there was still a chance that when I DID die � which might not be long from now � I would still be punished by being sent to hell. The more that Alfonso pummeled my rump, the more it created a moral dilemma for me. The only thing to do was get away from Alfonso. And Jordan. I've got to find a way out of here. THE THRONE ROOM � BARRY No sooner had I started to enjoy my position as Hamish's dog than they pulled the proverbial rug out from under me. I had developed a taste for Abe's scrumptious rump � and it was obvious that Percy's pet pussycat had acquired a taste for my ministrations. The boy was not just a bottom, he was a natural sub, and I'm not sure he had realized that. Pair up a natural dom like me with a natural sub like him � there's a match made in heaven. Instead of Abe, there was a trim young man with golden hair and one of the prettiest butts on God's green earth. From the way he walked, he seemed somewhat effeminate, which was fine by me. I liked the androgynous type. If Abe was being replaced, they certainly could have done worse. But I had not been invited to subjugate this young man, or even to penetrate him with the powerful tool between my legs. I wondered who this creature was. - What's your name, boy? - Jordan. - Jordan, SIR. - `Sir'? You're wearing a puppy dog tail. The boy had cheek, I'll say that. And two lovely cheeks I longed to decorate. THE ENEMA ROOM � AUGIE (later that evening) - (Alfonso) Okay, here's the good news. You don't have to sleep in a shower stall full of shit tonight. - Oh, thank heavens. . . . But you say that like there's bad news that goes with it. - There is, but it's still an improvement. - What is it? - Penn and I have to piss on you and take a dump on your body, then smear it all over you in the morning. An hour later, we'll clean you off with the hose, and then you'll continue to have the enemas as usual. Sorry, it's not exactly getting out of the treatment, but at least tonight you can sleep in the dormitory with the other Twelves. THE DORMITORY � SETH - Augie! - (Paul) Augie, where have you been? - (Dai) So good to see you! - (Lucas) You here for a visit or are you staying with us now? - (Augie) I'm sleeping here tonight. - (Lucas) Well, I'm not. Stefan and I are on special assignment. - Who's Stefan? - (Paul) One of the lieutenants. Lucas knew him, back in the U.S. - Augie, could I talk to you privately for a moment? - (Lucas) Don't want me overhearing, eh? - Lucas, I have nothing against you as long as you don't molest Paul or Dai. I've just got a special message for Augie. - (Augie) From Jordan? - Maybe. I pulled him out into the hallway. I was expecting him to be full of eager anticipation, like a puppy anticipating a morsel of food dropped from the dinner table. - It's not from Jordan, Augie. He actually looked relieved, which surprised me. - I don't even know where he is. Or Miles. - Or Leo? - Leo I know about, but there's time for that later. Here's what I need to talk to you about. I'm breaking out of here tomorrow. Do you want to join me? There is risk involved. I have to trust Ian � the lieutenant I know from back in Cleveland. If he betrays me, it will be bad. But he says he wants to escape with me, and I have to believe him. - Is everybody going? - No. Paul and Dai don't want to take the risk. Lucas I don't trust. But I am taking two guys from the left side of the plane, Al and Stan, plus � well, I came here to rescue Abe, so I'm taking him with me. That's probably where the real risk lies; we may have a fight on our hands getting him. So � what do you think? - I'm in. - Think it over. But . . . I don't think we can take Jordan. - I don't want Jordan. I need to get away from him � and from Alfie, the lieutenant I know; the longer I stay here, the less I even know who I am. I need some time away to sort things out. Besides, what they're doing to me . . . I'll take the risk. Count me in. * * * * * * * * THURSDAY, DECEMBER 14 * * * * * * * * THE THRONE ROOM � SETH Ian had assured me that this was the proper time. Hamish, Percy, and the lieutenants were either eating or sticking their cocks into a captive orifice � which is what they would assume Ian was doing if he wasn't at lunch. Abe would probably be guarded by the `dog' Barry. I could dismantle Barry singlehandedly, and I had four other guys with me. My only doubts were about Ian � could I really trust him to help us escape? As Paul and Dai had noted, he had `given the code' to Leo and then collected his thirty pieces of silver in the form of Hamish's approval. But Stan looked sturdy, Al (though small) was scrappy, Ian was determined, and Augie � well, he was another body. Five of us to get Abe, and then we'd have six to take on anyone else if we needed to. First stop was the so-called Throne Room, where Abe was being held. I sent Ian in first to make sure Hamish and Percy were, indeed, absent. He came back looking a little sheepish. - (Ian) Neither one is in there. But it looks like Barry is in the middle of humping Abe, I'm sorry. - I've interruptused one coitus, I can always interruptus another. We poured into the room. On the far side of the room I beheld two pairs of legs and one pair of heaving buttocks. Grunting was being emitted by the fucked object. I was well acquainted with the sounds of Abe's grunts as I was plowing him � these were higher pitched and of a different timbre. - That's not Abe. The heaving buttocks stopped heaving, their owner having become aware of my presence in the room. - (Heaving Buttocks, whom I presumed to be Barry the Bulldog) Okay, who's there, because I'm enjoying this fuck and don't want to pull out. This bitch is almost as good as the last one, and he loves it just as much. - It's Seth. - (H. B.) Oh, shit. He pulled out of the bottom's bottom, glistening cock stiff as a carrot and impressive in size. Yes, it was Barry. I approached him as the others filed in behind me. As he withdrew, the identity of the sodomee was revealed, astonishing as it was to one of us. - (Augie) Jordan?? - (Jordan) Omigod, Augie?? Dammit! The last thing I needed was for this star-crossed romance to flare up like a comet. THE THRONE ROOM � JORDAN I looked at him, twelve different emotions forcing their way through my fevered brain. I exaggerate � maybe only nine. I was relieved to see Augie and know that he was okay � I hadn't seen him since they hauled him out of that pitch black room with the two Caribbean guys (whom I haven't seen either). I felt love, I felt pity, I felt shame, I felt lust, I felt fear, I felt guilt, and probably at least three other emotions I couldn't put into words. - (Augie) Well, Jordan, looks to me like you were enjoying that. I was. Which was the source of my guilt. I felt like I was betraying him a second time; after having lied to him for so long about who I was, now I was being unfaithful. St. Peter's cock (the fowl kind) was crowing again. Oh, Augie, what must you think of me? - Augie, it's not like � - (Augie) You disgust me. - Not like I had a choice. - (Barry) Oh, yeah? So how come you got hard when I suggested I try to plant a baby inside you? It was only at that point that I noticed that the man next to Augie was Seth. Seth! What was he doing here? I thought his birthday was later in the month. I noticed him then because he brushed past Augie and spoke directly to Barry. - (Seth) Where's Abe? We came to take Abe. - (Barry) I can't tell you that. They'd skin me alive. Knowing Hamish, literally. - Maybe they switched me with him so that you wouldn't find him. - (Ian) That makes sense. And I know where Jordan was. - (Seth) Take me there. Come on, Augie. Augie wasn't moving. He just stood there, fury in his eyes and his voice. Both focused directly on me. - (Augie) This isn't finished. No, I'm wrong � it IS finished. I'm finished with you. I don't want anything to do with you ever again! - Augie! But he spun on his heels and stormed out of the room along with Seth, Ian and two other guys I'd never seen before. Leaving me crushed like the proverbial leaf. - (Barry) Pussycat, let him go. - Barry, I love him. At least, I think I do. - But you're no longer sure, are you? - . . . No. - The damn fool doesn't know what he's missing. Now get down on all fours, pussycat. There's no way my love juice is staying inside these balls. And I cried. I cried because when he poled me with his thick sausage it felt so damn fulfilling I could hardly stand it. But they weren't tears of joy. They were tears of guilt. And of something that felt permanently lost. JORDAN'S CELL � ABE Two bodyguards, Stefan and Lucas, had been with me 24/7 since I had been moved out of the Throne Room, except occasionally one of them would be briefly relieved by another of Hamish's henchmen. They had me chained to the bed, restraints around my wrists and ankles attached to chains that had me spread-eagled, face up. Periodically they would tease my balls or cock or both with a feather to stimulate me, because they liked to see my cock pointing toward the ceiling, begging for relief � and not a damn thing I could do about it. The only positive about my supine position was that my ass was inaccessible to them � though I'm sure Percy had made it clear that my ass was hands (and dicks) off. However, I was still available to Percy, evidenced by his appearance this morning, when he ordered me flipped over onto my stomach so he could give my prostate a workout. They'd moved me yesterday, not long after my painful and exquisite reunion with Seth � and because of it, I was sure. Seth had promised to rescue me, and Stefan and Lucas � and my restraints � were an effort to make sure that didn't happen. But I know Seth. He doesn't discourage easily. He won't give up without a fight � which is what worries me. Seth fighting them is dangerous. When he appeared, my heart was filled with such joy. I know if given the chance, I would never betray him again. I was embarrassed at the way he found me � with Barry's prodigious member well up my back door � an experience I was liking � but my recent experiences with Barry had taught me one thing: I do want to be dominated. If I could do that second date over, I'd have submitted to the handcuffs � it was unfair of me to project the callous indifference of the man who had bought me at the slave auction onto Seth. Thinking about Seth kept my cock pointing toward the ceiling � no feathers necessary. I heard a click at the door. Percy, in for a bit of early afternoon fun? Neither. In burst Ian O'Leahy � a second shocking appearance in twenty-four hours. Seth was right behind him, as were three other guys who didn't look like lieutenants. They did, however, look like they meant business. I noticed that the smallest of them was lacking the body parts that lie underneath one's cock. Which only made the threats I had heard to my own masculinity all the more credible. The invasion set my bodyguards into action. Stefan stepped across to confront Seth but before he got within two feet of him, Seth leaped forward and flattened him with a vicious punch to the jaw, knocking him to the floor. Ian straddled the form of the stunned lieutenant and pounded his face repeatedly until it was clear he was unconscious. Outnumbered five to one, my other guard assumed a defensive crouch near my bed, his path to the exit blocked by multiple antagonists. - (Seth) Release him, Lucas. - (Lucas) Not on my life, Seth. Seth and his adversary on a first name basis, that was curious. But I had little time to ponder their possible connection. Lucas's fingers hovered near a button on the wall by the foot of my bed, a button whose purpose I had been unable to discern, it having never been used. - (Lucas) Don't come any closer or I'll push this button. - (Seth) And what will happen if you push it, Lucas? - (Lucas) Hamish's army will be alerted and they'll come running in here and capture you. And then you'll most likely be put to death. So let me leave this room quietly, Seth, and then you can free Abe � if you can. Yes, but how? I'd never seen either Stefan or Lucas with anything like a key. Only Percy had that, its use restricted to times he wanted to fuck me and times when I needed to use the toilet or eat. - (Seth) Lucas, if I let you go, you'll summon them anyway. You have two choices � let Abe go, or I'll break your neck. - (Lucas) You're bluffing and I can't let him go � I don't have the key. - (Seth) Who has the key? - (Lucas) Percy. - (Seth) Then go find Percy. Ian will go with you. You will tell him that Abe has a stomach ailment and needs a toilet break urgently or he'll soil the bed. And if you're not back in five minutes with the key, Stefan here will be unconscious for all eternity. Lucas looked indecisive and didn't move. Then suddenly he lunged for the button and pushed it. I don't know if it summoned Hamish or not. All I know is what it did do. My bed suddenly retracted into the wall. In an instant, a space opened in the wall next to me and my entire mattress, with me secured to it, slid into the recess. The entire process took less than two seconds. And I was now in a black void, somewhere within the wall. It felt like being in a coffin with the lid closed. THE TECH ROOM � HAMISH - They've activated the wall recess. Seth and Ian must be making their attempt now. - (Percy) So my pussycat is locked in a sensory deprivation chamber? Can we free him? It must be terrifying. - Not yet, my sweet. Wait until they make their escape. Then we can collect your little pet. And you can probably bring him home. JORDAN'S CELL � STAN Seth went berserk. He rushed across the room and slammed Lucas against the wall, his head colliding with the surface, producing a resounding thump. I was petrified. Al and Augie stood there equally frozen, while Ian made a half-hearted attempt to restrain him. - (Seth) Bring him back, Lucas! - (Lucas) I can't. I don't know how. - (Seth) Bring him back, I said! Seth's hands were around Lucas' neck and he was throttling the man. Lucas was tall and strong, but he was no match for Seth's raw power. - (Lucas) The button only works one way. The others will have to bring him back. I'm not a lieutenant, you know. I just help Stefan sometimes. They don't tell me anything. I'm a captive, same as the rest of you. - (Seth) Not the same as the rest � you're collaborating with them. And you knew enough to push that button. - (Lucas) Stefan taught me that. Please, Seth, I � Lucas never finished that sentence. He must have realized that pleading with this mountain of rage was going to get him nowhere. Ian had explained to me how important this `Abe' fellow was to Seth, that he had entered Hamishland voluntarily just to rescue him. I was seeing firsthand the depth of Seth's feelings for Abe � and so was Lucas. And Lucas did the worst possible thing he could possibly have done. He fought back. He lifted his knee in an effort to attack Seth's groin, but missed the bigger man's balls and Seth reacted by dashing Lucas's head against the wall. When Lucas pushed his body against Seth's in an effort to knock him over, Seth took his hand and rammed Lucas's head backwards, just as Lucas's torso was pressing forward. I heard a horrible crack. It was the sound of Lucas's neck being broken. And Lucas slumped down the wall, inert. JORDAN'S CELL � IAN - My God, Seth, you've killed him. - (Seth) He was a monster, Ian. I won't mourn him. But I've lost Abe. He's somewhere behind the wall. - He said that pushing the button would notify Hamish. - Yes, well, he was lying, wasn't he? - We don't know that. They may be on their way here. And if they are, they shouldn't find two bodies on the floor. - Stefan isn't dead. - A technical point. We should get them out of here. - Fine, but where? - (Augie) How about the room I landed in? It's pitch black in there. - Great idea, Augie, you know where it is? - (Augie) Yeah. - Show them. Drag these two studs there. I'll go pick up the key. Actually, I wanted to pick up two keys. The second one would make a huge difference in somebody's life. JORDAN'S CELL � AL What had I gotten myself into? Listen, I have more reason than most to want out of here � check between my legs if you need verification of that, not to mention the likelihood that another, more vital part of the body would possibly be separated from the rest of me soon. And Stan was a cool guy, I trusted him. But this Seth character was a maniac. If we were caught, it was a death sentence for all of us. But at this point, I was `all in', as they say in poker. We had no option � it was escape or die. I ran over and grabbed the torso of the unconscious Stefan. Stan joined me and we pulled him to his feet, with Augie's help. Seth was strong enough to lift Lucas's corpse all by himself and raise him over his shoulder, the lifeless form hanging there like a big sack � with legs. Ian opened the door for us after checking that the `coast was clear', and Augie led us to the room he said he had landed in. Ian came back, running silently with his bare feet, his heavy balls bounding with every step in a way that mine never would again. He inserted a key into the door and I saw that the room was worthy of its name, the Dark Room. I heard some kind of machinery going, accompanied by unintelligible grunts at regular intervals. Ian was taking charge � for which I was grateful: Seth was CRAZY. Ian found a light control somehow and activated it, which hurt my eyes temporarily. I opened them to see three chairs in the middle of the room � two of which were occupied. - (Ian) Put Stefan in the middle one. Plant him on the dildo. The dildo? Indeed, protruding from the chair was a large � painfully large � black dildo that seemed to be welded to the seat of the chair. The three of us lifted Stefan over it, and lowered him gently down onto it. it did not go easily past his sphincter, and we had to reach into his crack and pull his buttocks apart before we could slip the big phallus up his rectum and let gravity have its way with him. The pain must have awakened Stefan, for he suddenly yelled `Hey!' and Seth rushed over and clobbered him in the face, knocking him back into dreamworld. At least, I hoped it was only dreamworld. But I agreed that we couldn't have this guy shouting out and calling attention to himself, although I was guessing the room was pretty well soundproofed. - (Seth) Well, that's Stefan taken care of. What do we do with Lucas � just dump him on the floor? - (Ian) I have a better idea than that. THE DARK ROOM � IAN I had returned to meet the others not with one but with two keys � one to gain access to the Dark Room, and the other to release Theo from his chair. Percy had given me free rein to fuck one of the two `insurgents' imprisoned in those fucking chairs, and had given me the key to unlock one of them for my own personal use. I had chosen Theo, the darker of the two � I loved plunging my cock into that silky-smooth ebony butt. It was not fun for Theo, who (unlike his friend Piers) was straight. But now was the time this arrangement was going to prove a boon to Theo. Our band of five was about to become a band of six. I applied the key and lifted Theo off the machine that was churning up his backside. I was surprised he hadn't interrupted us with a dozen questions, but he had been trained to keep his mouth shut, and undoubtedly had concluded the wisest course of action was to remain silent. Lifting Theo also turned off the fucking machine, and, upon my direction, Seth lowered Lucas's corpse into the chair, upon which the fucking machine switched on again automatically and began sodomizing Lucas's lifeless body. - We're taking him with us, Seth. - (Theo) Piers. What about Piers? - I don't have a key for his machine. I can't free him. - (Theo) Try. Please try. I tried. The key didn't work. Seth tried to free Piers by his sheer physical strength, but whatever was holding Piers to the chair was even stronger than Seth's muscles, and the effort to separate him only caused Piers to cry out in agony. - (Seth) I'm sorry. I can't do anything. - (Piers) It's all right. - Theo, we have to go. - (Theo) I understand. Piers � - (Piers) It's all right. You go. I'll be all right. - (Theo) Good-bye, Piers. I don't know what these guys are doing, and it will probably get me killed. You've been a good companion, my friend. We will meet again in the next world, and we'll be friends again there. - (Piers) Always. - (Theo) Always. - (Piers) Pyramus and Thisbe, right? - (Theo) Yeah, but I always thought you should be Thisbe, you're the gay one. I hated to separate these two friends � their comradeship was so touching � but it was better to save one of them than neither of them, and I think Piers understood that. OUTSIDE THE EGRESS ROOM � AUGIE To my astonishment, the rest of the escape was carried off without incident. There was no one waiting for us in the hallway, we encountered no one as Ian led us to the Egress Room, he entered the code, the door popped open, and there I beheld the most beautiful sight I had ever seen in my life � or at least in the last three days: a pole with a button next to it. Ian went first to show the way, grabbing the pole and touching the button, which was reachable with your legs wrapped around the pole. He pressed the button then zipped upwards, vanishing into a blackness that I could only trust reached the surface. I heard his voice as he was well above it, calling down "Stan, go next." Stan went next, followed by Theo and Al. Then it was my turn, Seth choosing to wait until the rest of us had gone before escaping himself. I approached the pole, clinging to it like a koala to a eucalyptus tree, wrapping both arms and legs around the thing and then reached out with my right hand and pressed the button. This one did not make me disappear into a recess in the wall, but shot me straight up, impossibly defying gravity as I rose to the surface as rapidly as if I was falling � upwards. As I proceeded, I felt a tingling in my groin, as if the pole was sending vibes to my balls and stimulating me. After about two seconds, I saw a bit of light and then a bit of sky and I shot through the opening, my momentum tossing me up about three feet into the air before I threw myself to the side to land on my feet just outside the circle that had opened up out of the earth. Several seconds later, Seth appeared in the same fashion, and soon six naked men adjusted to the fact that they were now on the surface. Clearly on the island, but the phallic tower was nowhere in sight, and I had no idea where we were. - (Stan) Thank you. Thank you, Ian. Thank you, Seth. You guys are my heroes. ON THE SURFACE - SETH Some hero. I had undertaken this mission to rescue Abe � and failed miserably. And what would become of Abe now? Would they punish him for the audacity I showed by escaping? Ian had taken the same risk I had � but he was able to rescue the one he cared about. I hadn't. And I had killed a man. I had killed Lucas. Dead. True, he was one of the worst excuses for a human being I had ever encountered, but he was still a human being. I had ended a life that I had no right to end. I could have left him in the same condition I left Stefan � unconscious but alive and intact. But I didn't. My rage got the better of me after I lost Abe. And while Paul could now rest easily that he would not be raped in the middle of the night, it was no great comfort to me. I knew I had strength. But I had always used it responsibly. Until now. Harry, I hope you're doing better with this leadership thing than I am. Now I've got to figure out how to find you. I have three days to do so and to prevent you from being the next victim of the dodecagons. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE � AFTERMATH]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-16	Date: Wed, 6 Mar 2024 14:10:15 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 16 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 - a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER 16 � SIX FLASHBACK LIMIT PER CHAPTER Previously, on the surface: * Seth finds a message in stones ("Gin and Tipsy") from Abe. * Abe encounters Percy and runs from him, but is hit on the head by a rock. * Jasper learns of the multiple personalities of Ray/Cody/Gary and resolves to meet Gary, whom only Harry has met. Underground: * Hamish greets the left-siders, including Stan, and informs them they will be used sexually. He allows Barry, the pilot of Flight 12 but now Hamish's slave, to fuck one of them (Theo). Barry's crew on Flight 12 included flight attendant Percy and a co-pilot, Phil. In Switzerland/Aruba: * Stimulever reacts in panic to the fact that Jordan and Miles have `broken through the wall', jeopardizing `The Project'. They send a representative to Aruba to meet with and `neutralize' them. In advance of that meeting, Miles works to arrange a meeting with a reporter, to put additional pressure on Stimulever. * Jordan has reverted to presenting himself as a male. In flashbacks: * Seth has a third date with Abe, without sex, after his friend Ian spies on them at an Armenian restaurant. He admits to Abe that he used a succession of boyfriends to rebound from previous ones, especially to get over a man named Sean. * Augie (who is in love with Jordan, thinking him female) is haunted by an incident in high school when he had given a blow job to a friend, Alfonso. * Barry witnesses Hamish, a fellow bdsm dom, burn two disreputable men to death, one of them seemingly by magic. * * * * * * * * TUESDAY, DECEMBER 4 * * * * * * * * THE WESTERN BEACH � SETH After finding the GIN AND TIPSY sign, I was buoyed. But I traversed up and down that beach until sundown yesterday and found no trace of Abe or anyone else, unless you counted the huge HELP sign written in stones, clearly intended for a passing plane, of which there hadn't been one. Something was off. Way off. If Abe had survived, where were the other left-siders? Had he gotten separated from them? Was he the only survivor? Were they all hiding together somewhere? Had another phallic tower drawn THEM in? There were more questions than answers, but at least the questions had one thing in common: Abe had lived. And, unless something had befallen him since he left that note, he was still alive. I WILL find him. THE THRONE ROOM � BARRY - You've been a good boy, Barry. I think you deserve a reward. - Thank you, Master. I was more apprehensive than appreciative. Hamish's rewards could take the form of his cock in my mouth � or my ass. I had been fucked by him every day since arriving and by the rest of his `lieutenants' at least once apiece. And then I was paraded in full puppy-dog mode in front of eleven terrified, naked men, all from the left side of ZTA Flight 12. But he let me fuck one of them! A sexy Black boy named Theo. It felt good to be on top again � a place where I've spent my entire adult life � until three days ago. So when Hamish promised me a `reward', I hoped it would be another chance to dominate. And not a chance to be a cumdump for his henchmen. - Would you like to see your reward, boy? - (with mixed feelings) Yes, Master. I wasn't prepared for what happened next. They brought in a man � naked, of course, and, from his posture, clearly a bottom. Only this was a bottom I recognized � and not from the room yesterday where I had fucked Theo. This was Phil. My co-pilot Phil, whom I had not seen since the incident. - Would you like to fuck him, boy? Oh, shit. I longed to fuck ass, but . . . Phil? Phil was a swinging bachelor, looking for a girl in every town we flew into � not exactly my pal but my colleague, my partner on 80% of the flights I made for ZTA. And now he stood before me, a quivering mass of jello, praying I would not say `yes'. - Yes. Sorry, Phil, but an ass is an ass and if you're here, your ass will get used plenty and probably already has been. One more cock won't affect your life much in the long run. The thought made me hard. - I see you've said `yes' in two ways. Phil was looking at my erection; his face was filled with such hatred that, should we ever get out of here, I knew there was no way we could ever work together again. - Bend over that sawhorse, boy. That instruction was to Phil, not me. The item in question was about three feet high, just the right height for Phil to bend over. He looked at me, he looked at Hamish, he looked at the four lieutenants waiting nearby to force him onto it, and knew there was no way out. What a nice ass he had. It wasn't perfection, but it was meaty, with cute dimples. But it was the cleft that drew my attention. As I approached him, his cock hung down between his legs. Had he been in my playroom, I would have reached between his legs and squeezed his balls, hard, to make him cry out in pain before I sank my manhood deep into his bowels. But I couldn't do that in this case. His balls were missing. FLASHBACK � BARRY (SANTO DOMINGO) � May, this year The ring-tone sounded. I looked at the name on the phone. Shit! It was Hamish. I considered ignoring it, but what good would that do? After what he had done to Mart�n � setting him aflame from across the room � who knew what he was capable of. He was not someone you could ignore. He called himself a magician. I didn't like his definition of magic. I picked up. - (as if it was a good thing) Hamish! - Hey, buddy, ready for more fun this weekend? Fortunately, I was prepared for this. I had a ready-made excuse, and this time it was not a lie. - Oh, sorry, I'm working solid from Thursday to next Wednesday. Santo Domingo to Bogot�, Santo Domingo to Hamilton. I don't have a few days off until next Wednesday. - What about next Friday then? - (oh, shit, trapped � I HAD said `a few days', hadn't I?) Well, I might be available. Have to check my calendar. But Hamish � please, nothing like the last time. - No worries, I don't have any contracts. Remind me who you're flying for again? - Progresa. They're small, but they keep me busy. I never know, they sometimes call me on short notice to fill in, they're a little understaffed. True, but misleading. Progresa was a small regional airline who occasionally needed me to fill in, but rarely. My co-pilot Andr�s and I would have a long weekend coming up after Wednesday. When that Friday came around, I called Hamish and told him my (invented) client had canceled, hoping to get out of it. Hamish told me to come anyway, we could share his client. He assured me he was not in a snuffy mood and promised no spontaneous combustion. Unless you count my internal combustion when I saw who his client was � Andr�s. Andr�s was shocked when he saw me, but also � I think � turned on a bit. Perhaps future flights would be more interesting, especially when the automatic pilot was on. Andr�s wanted to be spanked, and he got more than he wished. After he gave us each blow jobs, we whacked his ass until it was the color of a ripe tomato. And we caned him on top of that. Then we both fucked him, and Hamish fisted him, which he had not asked for, but which he had no option but to accept. He had verbally consented to submit fully other than a few proscribed activities, and had failed to list fisting among them. Lessons learned. Hamish forced a spider-gag into his mouth and I emptied my bladder into it, while Hamish pissed all over the rest of his body. Andr�s objected, but I paid no heed, blithely ignoring the implications for our working relationship. How do you work side-by-side with a man who's forced you to swallow his piss? It had implications for our working relationship, all right. We were both fired. Hamish had filmed me belting and fucking Andr�s's ass and pissing into his mouth against his will. But he also shot Andr�s willingly sucking my cock at the beginning of the session, to make it clear that my co-pilot was complicit in his humiliation. And `somehow' our boss got hold of it. Hamish called me afterwards, simultaneously threatening me and apologizing. He admitted he had been responsible for my losing my job. But only, he said, because he wanted to offer me another one. A new airline, in which he had an interest, called Zen Tropical Airways. He would make sure they hired me. And Andr�s? - Don't worry about Andr�s. I did worry about Andr�s. After I'd witnessed what Hamish had done to Mart�n and Felix, he had no worries that I would turn him in to the police. But Andr�s might pose a threat to Hamish. I kept watching the obituaries in the newspaper and was relieved every day I didn't see his name. I didn't like the idea of working for this Zen Tropical Airways. I wanted to break ties with Hamish completely. I contacted my boss at Progresa, groveling for a recommendation. He told me he found my behavior repulsive and had no choice but to fire me, but if he was asked for a recommendation, he would tell them I was a good pilot and not volunteer any details of my extracurricular activities. That was all I needed. I couldn't break ties with Hamish if I remained in Santo Domingo. But if I went elsewhere � especially outside the U.S. � Hamish was unlikely to track me down. I submitted scores of applications and got offers from two airlines in Africa. That's when Hamish decided I needed another incentive to comply with his plan for me. STAN'S CELL � STAN - Do we have to do this, Ian? - It's my job, Stan. And now it's your job, too. - Who would know? I mean, we're here alone, you could just say you . . . you know, did it. - Fucked you, Stan. I could just say I fucked you. Are you afraid to even say the word? - I'm not gay. - You ever been fucked in the ass? - What a ridiculous question. No, Ian, I have not. - Then how do you know you don't like it? - If I liked it, don't you think I would have made it with a guy by now? - You're only twenty-two, lots of men don't come out until they're older than that. - Men who knew they were gay but were afraid to come out. I'm straight. - Well, if you were gay you'd have a better time here. Because, Stan, you are going to get fucked for the rest of your . . . - For the rest of my . . .? - Stay here. - It sounded like you were going to say `for the rest of your life'. - . . . - Am I ever going to get out of here? - I've only been here a year. But I've never seen anybody actually leave. - Fuck. - Good idea. Bend over the edge of the bed. - No. - Do you want to be forced? - You and I are about the same size. I like my chances. That was when Ian went to a little button behind the toilet that I hadn't noticed before and pushed it. A minute later, two strapping lieutenants burst into the room. - (lieutenant #1) He being uncooperative, Ian? - (Ian) First time jitters, you know. Reality hasn't set in. - (lieutenant #2) Reality is our middle name. You can guess what happened next. I could � maybe � have taken Ian, but not these two mammoths. They lifted me up and dumped me over the edge of the bed, holding me down while they spread my legs and I felt something wet and slimy invade the crack between my cheeks. A finger massaged my asshole and then poked inward, pushing the lubricant (for that's what it was) deep inside. Soon afterwards, I felt his finger again, adorned with fresh lubricant. He spread it around good � I'll give him that. And then I felt a hard bump against my hole and the weight of Ian's legs against the back of my legs. His hands grabbed my love handles � I gained fresh appreciation for why they were called that � and then I felt nothing but intense pain. He pushed his cock past my sphincter. I gasped. - Easy, Stan. We're just getting started. He pushed in further and further until I felt I had swallowed a cucumber through the wrong end. Every inch of my rectum was being pushed to the limit. I thought about how, when I shit, my colon was wide enough to accommodate the diameter of a turd � which was at least the width of a cock. The difference was: The turd was soft, the cock was hard. I was voluntarily expelling the turd, and its release felt good. The cock was being rammed up my ass, and it was a solid mass, not squishy remnants of food. To sum it up, it hurt like hell and I couldn't believe how full my ass felt. And then he started to pull out � and then ram back in again. He rammed me again and again, and after a while I felt an odd sensation � my prostate was getting poked and it was stimulating. It was painful, but also sending endorphins to my brain and blood to my cock. I started to realize why sometimes men had their women use strap-ons and penetrate them. And I started to understand why gays liked it up the ass. Ian kept plowing away at my ass, increasing his tempo, making me grunt in pain (and a wee bit of pleasure) with every thrust. I felt completely and totally violated, completely and totally used, completely and totally dominated, and completely and totally confused that I wasn't hating it more than I was. Ian was asserting his domination over me, and strangely there was something in me that wanted to surrender and let him have his way. There was something powerful about submission that I would never have expected. Finally, he quickened his tempo, then slackened as his viscous seed flowed into my bowels. He stayed there a minute; I didn't anticipate the pain as his cockhead popped past my sphincter on the way out. I lay there, panting, grateful that it was over. But it wasn't. Moments later I felt a pair of hands massage my buttocks and a heavy pair of legs push against mine. I heard Ian's voice. - After I had to call them in, I couldn't let them leave without giving them a go, now could I? - What? Ian, are you � aaaaaaaah! That last sound was what leaped from my jaw as a second cock pushed its way up my unwilling ass. This one was thicker and longer than Ian's. He made me scream as he pummeled my guts relentlessly for ten minutes. And then it was the third man's turn. He was equal in size, but I was getting used to it by now and I just lay there and took it. - See, Stan, if you had just cooperated it would have been only me. It's always best to cooperate around here. You'll learn that the longer you stay. But there was something in the way he said that. Something intriguing. Ian looked at me the way I had looked at Magda . . . once. I wondered what was going on in his head. FLASHBACK � IAN (CLEVELAND) � December 9, a year ago - So, how did it go? - We didn't have sex. - No? After you took him back to your place? - No. - What happened? Did you do something to turn him off? - Yeah. I was human. - Abe, humans have sex. - Yes, and they also relate to each other as human beings. The man is struggling, Ian. Something happened in his past that hurt him, hurt him deeply. I think it has to do with a guy named Sean. - Ah. - I didn't want to be someone he just hopped into bed with on the rebound from his last boyfriend. That last boyfriend . . . that was you, Ian. - Did he tell you that or are you just guessing? - Some of both. He said he had a series of boyfriends, and maybe now it was time to take relationships more seriously. He did say you were part of his past, but not more than that. - Did you tell him that I was also part of YOUR past? - No. I don't want him to know that. It would make our getting together seem too . . . I don't know, artificial. - Well, it was. It was an artifice that got you back together after that second date. - I'm glad you did. We're going to have another date, and I don't think we'll have sex then either. - You're doing things backwards, you know. Instead of `sex on the third date', you're doing `stop having sex on the third date'. - (grinning) It's kind of nice, being appreciated for my mind. A week later and I was on a plane to Martinique. Or so I thought. A little detour to an underground space on a mysterious island. I've been here a year now. I wouldn't have expected to ever see either of them again. And yet it's all Hamish talks about � Herrick, Herrick, Herrick. I don't know why Seth is important, but Hamish is the boss, and whatever he says goes. I still have my balls, I'd like to keep them. ORANJESTAD, ARUBA � JORDAN Miles had received an email saying that "Stimulever's representative" would meet us at 8 p.m. at my hotel. Which gave us some time to meet with the journalist which Miles had so competently found. His name was Maurice Straume, and he was reputedly the `Aruba Advocate's best investigative journalist. - (Maurice) I understand you have a story you're interested in. - Yes, the airplane that disappeared Friday night. ZTA is failing to provide any infor- - An airplane disappeared Friday night? I hadn't heard about this. Was it a lone pilot or did they have passengers? Is it anyone you knew? Miles and I stared at each other. - (Miles) Mr. Straume. We're not talking about a twin-engine Cessna here. We're talking twenty-four passengers on a flight from Santo Domingo. Who never arrived. - (Straume) A passenger plane? That's absurd. Anything like that would be a major story. - Exactly. Why isn't it? Did ZTA get to your publisher? - (Straume) ZTA? - Zen Tropical Airways. - (Straume) I've never heard of them. They don't fly into Queen Beatrix. - (Miles) They're covering it up � that's why you don't know about it. - (Straume) Mr. King, no one could cover up something like that. A passenger airplane that disappeared? You can't hide that. - It happened. We were there. We were � - (Straume) Did Willem put you up to this? (suddenly smiling) Tell him nice try, he should save it for April Fool's Day. - This is real. I swear. - (Straume, condescending) What kind of an idiot do you take me for? If an airplane had disappeared with no explanation, we would have been all over that story. Airport personnel would have reported it. Relatives of other passengers would have reported it. If you're going to make up a story like this, try using an airline that actually exists. Zen Tropicana � - Zen Tropical Airways. It exists. I flew on it. - (Straume) You flew on it. Zen Tropical Airways. - That's right. - (Straume) Hold on. He went to his computer. I knew instinctively what he was doing and what he would say next. - (Straume) I just googled Zen Tropical Airways. No such thing exists. - Mr. Straume � - Please leave. I don't have time to waste on pranksters. So much for our attempt to pressure Stimulever. ZTA had obviously gotten to the airport personnel and pressured them to keep the incident under wraps. But I was amazed that no one else had contacted them. Miles and I couldn't be the only people upset about this. I remembered the pink-haired girl I had seen on the street by Royal Plaza Mall, who had failed to acknowledge me when I called after her; why wasn't she banging on the doors like we were, demanding answers? If it weren't for Miles and Jen, I would think that I was delusional, that Flight 12 had never even existed. I wasn't delusional. But there was a lot that didn't add up. I hoped when the Stimulever representative got here, that they would do the sums. THE PHALLIC TOWER - JASPER - (Ray - ?) Hi. - Hi. - Which one are you? Oh, so not Ray. Could this be Gary? - Jasper. - Jasper, hi. I'm sorry, I don't have a good memory. I'm sure I met you but I . . . well, something keeps getting in my way. - (taking a risk) You mean like Ray or Cody? He took a step back and assessed me. Fear spread over his face, and doubt. It was so strange seeing these emotions coming from a man, who in his other personas, exuded a self-assurance unmatched by anyone other than Lucas. This was a vulnerable man, a frightened man. And my heart went out to him. It having been six days since I'd had sex, my cock was plenty interested, too, but at the moment the emotional side of me was dominating the physical. - (Gary, unsure if he could trust me) You know Cody and Ray. - I've met them. They're not as nice as you. - Thanks. I'm Gary. Did you know that? - Harry told me. - I like Harry. What day is it? - It's Tuesday, the fourth. - Could you tell me what I've missed? I . . . blanked out for a while. - What's the last thing you remember? - It must have been yesterday morning. I got up and I remember this guy saying we were going to take a trip to get water. I must have blanked out at that point. He didn't have any clothes on � maybe that's what freaked me out, I'm not sure. - That's Seth. He's actually our leader, and, yeah, he's naked. It's . . . complicated. I'll fill you in on our situation, but I have to warn you, Gary, it's very strange, and I don't understand it myself. I told him as much as I could, going slowly, and leaving out certain parts. I made sure to warn him about the dodecagons, without being specific about what they seemed capable of doing, or about Leo's or Paul's disappearances. He probably wouldn't know who Leo or Paul were, anyway. When Seth returned, Gary would be confronted with his nudity, and I felt I needed to prepare him for that, so I told him that Seth had awakened without his clothes and had to stay that way. Taking a risk, I made the mistake of telling him that another guy had found himself waking up wearing only a jockstrap, as a means of warning him the degree of strangeness that surrounded this place. - You're talking about Paul. - Oh, you know Paul? - (grinning) Of course I know Paul. Man, that ass poking out from his jockstrap � one of the best! Uh-oh. Hello, Ray. All the talk of nudity had freaked Gary out, and brought out lusty Ray. I made an excuse to leave the tower, where Ed was haranguing Harry, blaming him for Leo's disappearance. I decided this was not the time to inform Harry that I had met Gary and to apologize for freaking him out so much that he reverted to a personality happier with the concept of nudity. Last night, Harry had shared with me his theory that we had been chosen to be on Flight 12. We shared a lot of commonalities � our home towns being on that map, our December birthdays, and so on. There was another coincidence that Harry seemed to suggest but didn't mention explicitly, one that had been passing through my mind for some time now. I was convinced that (counting Ray) ten of us were gay. If all of us were gay � or at least bisexual � it would be a common thread. The problems were Ed and Augie. Augie clearly had a girlfriend whom, he had told me, he had planned to propose to in Aruba. Ed was a rabid homophobe � although there were plenty of instances of public homophobes who were secretly gay. A small part of me wondered if each of them didn't have something to hide. FLASHBACK � AUGIE (WHITE SETTLEMENT, TEXAS) � over the last five years I think Jordan saved my soul. The incident with Alfonso my sophomore year it had weighed heavily on my mind ever since. The times were growing more perilous. My father bought two more AR-15's � he felt the need, he said, because the country was experiencing moral decay. LGBTQ and Antifa and immigrants and Jews were taking our country away from us. And Pastor Markson � whom Dad called Pastor Marksman because he displayed his gun from the pulpit � preached at least once a month about the evils of homosexuality. And here I had engaged in a sexual act with another boy. I started dating, beginning with Emma Rutherford. There were others, but I never really felt it clicked. I got hard-ons, of course, what boy didn't, but I didn't get them when I was with girls. I got really worried once when I found this wrestling magazine in the locker room after baseball practice, and I started to get an erection looking through it. Those were men with almost no clothes on � why was I getting an erection? I was NOT a homosexual. I was a Christian. You couldn't be both. And even if I got an urge like that, I would suppress it. The worst moment was when I ran into Alfonso at the mall. I tried to avoid him, but he came running up to me and put his arms around me. Before I knew it, my dong was tenting my pants. He noticed. - Oh, yeah, Augie, you still want me, don't you? You know, we could find a place to meet and have fun together. Someplace no one would know about and � - Alfonso, get the hell away from me. I'm a Christian. I'm not a queer. - You can be both, Augie. - That's not what Pastor Markson says. - I think Pastor Markson's queer himself. That's why he's always preaching against it. He and Mrs. Markson don't have kids, do they? - That's been his great disappointment in life. She's been cursed. - (laughs) Yeah, cursed with a husband who doesn't fuck her. - Go away, Augie, before I � - Before you cream your pants? Be a man, Augie, own up to who you are. - You know who I am? A person who wants nothing to do with you. Or any other homo. - (smiling) We'll see. Meet me in ten years and I'll bet you're living on your knees. That incident disturbed me. Why did I get a hard-on then? Could Alfonso possibly be right? Could I be a queer? Would I be condemned to hell? That's why I am so grateful to Jordan. She came into our church one Sunday and we really hit it off at the social hour afterwards. And I was drawn to her like I was drawn to no girl I'd ever known before. And I got a hard-on. Just being around her made me hard. Which proves I'm straight. Hallelujah. FLASHBACK � ED (LONDON, ENGLAND) � December, eleven years ago - (Beatrice) Oh my God, Ed, it's here. - What's here? - Look where it's from. This is it. The New Year's Honors List is being released today. - You think I'm on it? - Why else would you be getting this? After gaining substantial recognition for `revolutionary' surgical techniques in joint replacements, I had heard rumors that I might be on the List. Of course, it didn't hurt if your father was in the House of Lords. It was exactly what I had hoped for, had dreamed of, all my life. KBE. Knight of the British Empire. To be honored in person by Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth, at Buckingham Palace. The timing was somewhat ironic, to be honored by my home country less than two weeks after I had accepted a prime position at Brigham and Women's Hospital in Boston, in the U.S. Beatrice, naturally, had to go out and buy the most expensive dress in the United Kingdom, followed by the most expensive shoes and the most expensive hat. Why she had to wear a hat I didn't know, but she said the queen wore one and so she would expect it. (The Queen, at least, looked good in a hat.) My tuxedo had to be a classier weave and Italian, and I needed thousand-pound shoes to boot. Even Leo, who was only eight, needed to be outfitted for the occasion at the finest places on Savile Row. The event itself was as wonderful as I could have hoped. Her Majesty was gracious (as she always was), and a number of friends rallied round me to celebrate. And one person was there whom I never wished to see again, but he kept popping up in my life from time to time: Ryan Mackenzie. FLASHBACK WITHIN A FLASHBACK � ED (CAMBRIDGE, ENGLAND) � twenty-eight years ago Exams were over and we were confident we had aced them. Time to celebrate. Ryan and I were mates, athletes good enough to make the national under-21 team (I in sprints, Ryan with the javelin), but both brilliant enough (if you'll excuse the rodomontade) to realize we'd have to leave our athletic endeavors to a sideline. I could have gotten into any medical school in the world � I chose Harvard. Ryan, not quite my academic equal, was headed for Kings College, London � one of the more elite dental schools. In Cambridge there was a tradition of punting on the Cam � a punt being a low flat boat propelled by sticking a long pole to the bed of a (not very deep) river and pushing it along � the Cam being the river in question, a bridge over which gave the town its name. It is not generally advisable to go punting under the influence of alcohol, but that's what we did. `Under the influence' is a euphemism: `plastered' would be more accurate. When you go punting on a river when you're absolutely trollied, the results are predictable: I fell in. I can swim, but Ryan decided to plunge in after me to save the pole, which he did; we both wound up soaked. Alcohol tends to impair your judgment. We wanted to get out of those wet clothes, and being young men of considerable nerve, impetuosity, and devil-may-care after the success of our exams � and fortuitously (it being about two in the morning) on an otherwise unoccupied section of the Cam, we thought it would be uproariously funny if we removed our wet clothes and continued our sojourn in the altogether. We were having a high old time punting in the buff until both of us landed on the same side of the punt with too much force and tipped it over. Into the Cam went our clothes and, of course, it was a moonless night and we couldn't find anything except for Ryan's shirt. We still found this hilariously funny � we'd have to find our way back to his flat in the nude, hoping not to get arrested en route. Something else happened first. We pulled the punt over to the side, abandoning it, and climbed onto the shore. I fell over a tree root, and Ryan fell on top of me. And then he kissed me. - Ryan, I don't think you're supposed to be doing that. I was so drunk I thought it was funny. - I'm not supposed to be doing this, either. And he redirected his mouth to a lower part of my anatomy. Now I have known alcohol to have a deleterious effect on one's ability to maintain a stout erection, but for some unbeknownst reason, in my legless condition I got a reaction from my third leg. I had never received a blow job in my life � it being something girls in my social circle just didn't do � and I resolved to persuade them otherwise in the future. Ryan ran his tongue gently over my shaft, making every inch of me tingle. - Oh, God, Ryan, keep doing that. It feels wonderful. - Mm-hmmm. Actually, mate, I'm going to start doing this. He took my whole cock in his mouth and started bobbing up and down on it. The wetness, the feel of his tongue on my shaft, the sensations tingling throughout my organ were unbelievable. He withdrew, wrapping his lips around my cockhead, then dived in full throttle, pushing my cock deep down toward his uvula, then retreating, licking me under the glans, then withdrawing altogether to suck my balls. It did not take long until the tension grew unbearable. - Look out, I'm going to come! - Exactly what you're supposed to do, my friend. I shot my load into his mouth and he swallowed every ounce of it. - Did you like that, Eddie boy? - I did. . . . Ryan, that doesn't make me a fruit, does it? - No. Not unless you also enjoy this. - Enjoy what? - Well, you got your rocks off, old man, didn't you? My turn. - Ryan, I don't think I could put your thing in my mouth. - You won't have to, mate. Flip over. Well, I was relieved. I was not gay. I did not enjoy what he did to me. It hurt. Yes, I got hard during it, but that's just science, isn't it? Stimulation of the prostate. And a weird feeling of ambiguity. I was horrified at what Ryan had done to me. And yet part of me . . . No. That did not happen. I will never let anything like that happen again. Cocksucking is for nancy boys, not for sons of Peers who are going to Harvard Medical School. THE WESTERN BEACH � SETH Wait � there was something. On the left, as I continued to walk south, there was a disturbance in the sand, on a dune that led up to the plateau above. It didn't look like a random pattern created by nature, and when I got close enough to read it, my heart jumped: it read `SETH'. SETH. Abe was trying to communicate with me. Or was he? If he was trying to communicate, wouldn't he have written more than my name? There was room to do so. But then I saw something else: a rock about eight inches in diameter stuck in the sand halfway up the incline. Underneath it was something white. A note! He had written me a note! I was pretty sure he had a little notepad in his backpack, and he probably had a pen. This was meant for me. The name `SETH' was to make it clear who it was written for, and the note would include his personal message. I reached for it eagerly, hopeful it would read something like "meet me at the third coconut tree on the left". As soon as I picked up the white slip of paper, I knew it did not come from Abe. On the outside of the folded-up paper, it said, "Lee S. Herrick" in the same calligraphic script that accompanied the note I had received two days ago. Abe would never call me "Lee S. Herrick" and his handwriting was nearly illegible. I unfolded the note and read what had been typed inside. WE HAVE HIM. THERE IS NOTHING MORE TO DO HERE. GO BACK TO THE PHALLIC TOWER. STAY NAKED. THAT IS YOUR ONLY CHANCE. My only chance. My only chance for what? For getting Abe back? For getting off the island? For survival? It was only then that I noticed that the underside of the stone had blood on it. FLASHBACK � SETH (CLEVELAND) � five years ago - You look anxious. - I'm a married man, Sean, with three sons. - Yes, and? - And I'm betraying Megan. - Does Megan know you're seeing me? - Of course not. - Then you're not hurting her. You're protecting her by keeping us a secret. - God, you drive me crazy, - That's the idea. Crazy with lust. Do you love me? - Yes. Sean O'Hara, I think I love you. - Then what's the problem? - You need to know this, Sean. Megan's the only woman I've ever slept with. I'm not sure why I even did, I think I wanted to prove to myself that I was bisexual, it would give me an excuse to get married and have kids, and that would be good for my career, and � - And so you got married and had triplets and life's just not fulfilling, is it? - No. - You feel the need, don't you, Seth? You're tired of being in control � I'm not talking about your marriage, I'm talking about your life. - That's exactly it. I'm a supervisor now, I have to be a leader. - And sometimes you want to surrender that control to someone else. Someone strong and powerful, like me. - Yes. - And you feel you've done wrong by Megan, don't you? - Yes. - `Yes, sir.' - Yes, sir. - You've done a bad thing, haven't you, Seth? - Yes, sir. I've done a bad thing. - You deserve to be punished for that, don't you, Seth? - Yes, sir. I deserve to be punished. - Then strip, boy. Master Sean O'Hara is going to give you a punishment you'll never forget. That was the first time I ever saw the handcuffs. ORANJESTAD, ARUBA � JORDAN There was a knock at the door. Miles and I looked at each other. We tensed. This was it. We had talked about strategy. I would let Miles take the lead. Although I was, I thought, just as articulate and motivated as he was, there was no doubt he was more masculine. A company like Stimulever was probably full of alpha males and wouldn't respect an effeminate gay man confronting them. I wished we had Vic with us. Miles had shown me pictures of Vic � strong, Black, tattooed, a hulk. HE they would have respected. Miles was small, like me, but not effeminate in any way. It was just a matter of presentation, like standing up to a bear and making yourself as large as possible to discourage them from attacking you. I opened the door. In came a very handsome man, in his mid-thirties, I would guess. His suit looked like it was painted on. His body just seemed to pour out of it � and by that I don't mean he was fat. He was all lean tissue, and I could see the outline of his pecs � not too much, not too little � through his shirt, even with the jacket on. There was the hint of a five-o'-clock shadow (at eight-o'-clock), a strong chin, eyes that were as dark as his neatly trimmed brown hair. To summarize: he was gorgeous and exuded masculinity. Probably a dozen years older than me, but my heart went zing. - (trying to keep calm) Hi. I'm Jordan Murdock and this is Miles King. And you must be Mr. Stimulever. He smiled and extended a hand like a politician seeking a vote. - Call me Sean. - Do you have a last name? - Actually, it IS Stimulever. Family business. ORANJESTAD, ARUBA � SEAN In light of my plans, it was best if Jordan didn't know my true name. I shouldn't even have called myself `Sean', but it slipped out. `Jude' would have been so much better. It had worked with Ian. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER SEVENTEEN � LOVE AND DEATH]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-51	Date: Mon, 22 Jul 2024 21:26:45 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 51 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE: THE NEW YEAR Previously: The pressure mounts on Seth as midnight approaches. Jes�s has warned him that he will execute all of Hamish's prisoners if Seth does not strike the blow and behead Abe. Seth doubts that Jes�s would take such drastic action, and calls Jes�s's bluff. Jes�s responds by beheading Ian. Jes�s informs the shocked Seth that while Ian (who has an Alpha-life) would live on in the multiverse, none of the Twelve would, and orders Harry's execution. Abe intervenes and tells Seth to go ahead � that Hamish will kill him anyway, and there's a chance that they could live together in the multiverse. Seth surrenders, and asks for the axe. * * * * * * * * TUESDAY, JANUARY 1 � moments before midnight * * * * * THE WHITE ROOM � ABE They say when you die, your life passes before your eyes. No dead person has been able to confirm or deny that. But as my head tumbled toward the floor, my life did pass before my eyes. It must have all occurred within a second or so, but it was all there. Growing up in small-town Indiana, feeling different, experimenting with sucking cock in high school, getting ostracized by classmates for being a faggot, getting the cold shoulder from my father when I told him I was gay, leaving home for college, the validation I garnered from sexual connections in college, the nights at gay bars picking up partners, the emptiness of one meaningless connection after another, meeting Ian, breaking up with Ian, meeting Seth at Studs & Stripes, the glow I felt after our first night of sex, the disastrous second date when he had fucked me in handcuffs, the party at Jason's when I agreed to give Seth another chance, the no-sex date at the Armenian restaurant, growing closer to each other without sex � then with sex, meeting Sean at the concert at Blossom, cheating on Seth with Sean, the mixture of guilt and the love complicating my feelings for Seth, the amazing trip to Indiana where Seth eased my father's pain, the terror of Flight 12, my month in captivity as Percy's pet � all that passed before my eyes. Then, in an instant, it went black. * * * * * * * * ELEVEN MONTHS LATER * * * * * * * * HOMOWORLD � SETH - Morning, honey. . . . You okay? You look shaken. - I'm fine. Just the dream I had. There were eleven other universes. Somehow you and I lived in most of them simultaneously. - How many gin-and-tipsy's did you have last night? - Ha. The other worlds were kinda strange. In most of them half the people didn't look like us. - What, they had blue skin or something? - Stranger than that. Their chests were all lumpy, like they had a balloon inside that pushed their nipples out. But worse, they didn't have cocks or balls. - What? Without cocks, how did they have sex? - That's just it. Instead of genitals, they had a kind of slit between their legs, and dudes with cocks would fuck that instead of their asses. - Kinky. - It was rather disgusting, actually. Fortunately, you and I � and many others � stayed away from them, and fucked dudes' asses like normal people. Another weird thing: In these other worlds, people covered their bodies with fabric. - Fabric, like sheets or tablecloths? - Exactly. They called them `shirts' and `pants'. And they wore something called `underpants' to cover up their genitals and asses TWICE. - My god. Why would anyone want to cover up their bodies? Was the temperature cold? - In some worlds, yes. But that wasn't the reason, because they covered their bodies indoors, too. Some guys even slept wearing fabric. - Thank goodness it was only a dream. . . . Here. Have some coffee. I need you clear-headed. - Because? . . . Is something wrong? - We need to plan the Twelveday party. I wanted to send out invitations today. - You used the past tense, and you've got your `I'm vaguely apprehensive about this' face on this morning. Why are you vaguely apprehensive? - I'm more than vaguely apprehensive. I'm nervous as hell. - Why? We've hosted Twelveday parties before. I can't actually remember them, but I know we have � it's a Seth & Abe tradition. So why the furrowed brow? - Fred wants to come. - . . . Fred? We don't know any Freds. - Not personally, no. - You don't mean � - Yeah. Him. The governor of the planet. - Holy shit! THAT Fred? Wants to come to OUR party? - I opened the mail this morning and saw a video from the governor's office. I figured it was some boring proclamation � "Welcome to Twelvemonth' or some such. But no, it was a personal video from Fred himself. His first words were `Good morning, Seth.' I nearly fell off my chair. - And he said he wanted to come to our party. - He did. - Why us? - Haven't the foggiest. - I think you should replace that coffee with something stronger. Seth, if Fred is coming, we can't have it here. We'll have to have more than an intimate party. We could rent some playrooms at the neighborhood homocenter. They can handle twenty-four. - Do we know twenty-two other people to invite? - Not that I'd want to party with. But the guest list should be in double figures, if the governor is coming. - Couples only? - No. To exclude our single friends wouldn't be in the spirit of Twelveday. Let's make a list. - And check it twice. - I think everybody on it should be both naughty and nice, don't you? - That's what Twelveday is all about. AGRIWORLD - JES�S It was the first day of Twelvemonth (formerly known as December) which meant there were just eleven days until Twelveday, which I would spend on Homoworld. Some might think, "It's a party, go to Partyworld", but Partyworld had women in it. On such a festive occasion, I need to be at one of the three all-male universes, of which Homoworld was certainly the most convivial. I would spend each day until then visiting a different universe, starting with Agriworld, one of the least interesting universes, imho. Agriworld was a planet in which everyone grew their own food � and the entire planet was farmable, thanks to environmental adjustments we had made. Agriworld lacked a manufacturing base, so it came ready-equipped with modern farming equipment. The residents never questioned where it came from. This was true of all specialized worlds; if the world's raison-d'�tre didn't support producing a necessity, we would provide it as if it were a tree or river � an element of `nature'. In some universes, the Twelve were scattered across the territorial United States, or even around the world. In others, like Agriworld, they lived nearby and knew each other � but with no memory of the island, Betaworld, or any sense that they had known each other anywhere else than their current environment. In my capacity as Overlord, I could travel as I liked among worlds, and even � if I felt like it � drop in on residents without their awareness of my presence, the proverbial fly on the wall. In Agriworld, I decided to `visit' Vic and Miles, happily cohabitating on their farm in southern Labrador. AGRIWORLD � MILES - Did you feed the pigs? - All done, my love. - We'll have to slaughter Gertrude for the Twelveday feast, you know. - Which is why I wish you hadn't named them. - Sorry, Vic. There's a new butcher in town, though. He says he needs flour for making bread. We can trade him some of our wheat for his services. His name is Stefan. He's a little strange � when I said we had a pig to butcher he asked if we had any long pig. Quirky sense of humor. - That's what I love about this community. If there's something you need, there's always somebody else who has it and is willing to trade for it. - The other night I dreamed that people gave each other pieces of paper or swiped a plastic card to obtain food. - You do have the strangest dreams, Miles. AGRIWORLD � JES�S Well, yes, the lieutenants existed in the multiverse as well. But Agriworld-Stefan was only joking. He enjoyed being a butcher but restricted himself to livestock, I assure you. * * * * * * * * TWELVEMONTH, DAY 2 * * * * * * * * COMMWORLD � JES�S Commworld was Germ�n's domain. Germ�n was so wishy-washy about what he wanted, we didn't even know how to define it. We settled on Commworld, to stand for both communication and commerce, but he also wanted it to be a place where people traveled around from place to place. It sometimes operated at a frenetic pace, but people seemed happy enough. I looked in on Gary, initially anxious when I saw Jasper wasn't with him. My fears were soon allayed. COMMWORLD � GARY As was our custom, Ray and I turned on the six o'clock news to see if Jasper had a story. He didn't always. He was the `feel good story' reporter, and there were some days when the world was too complicated for good news. But tonight, there he was, live in someone's living room in San Francisco. - (Jasper) Most relationships begin through a chance meeting or through friends. But this story of two men who found each other is among the most bizarre you'll ever hear. On New Year's Day, Paul Eton, a biology teacher from Richmond, Virginia, woke up to a startling surprise. - (Paul, sitting on a couch) I had � well, let's call it a tattoo � that I don't remember getting. Like it just spontaneously appeared. - (Jasper) It wasn't a tattoo, though, was it? - (Paul) No, it was . . . like I'd been branded. Which I definitely would have remembered, even if I had been drinking on New Year's Eve � which I hadn't. - (Jasper, live) Off camera, Mr. Eton showed me the brand. It's not suitable for broadcast, but I can tell you that it referenced a man he had never met in a place he had never been: Daisuke Omi, a history professor at the University of San Francisco. - (Dai) And I woke up the same day with Paul's name and location branded onto my body. - (Jasper) And you had never met him before or remembered getting branded. - (Dai) That's what was so bizarre. I'd been to the gym the day before and a buddy of mine who saw me coming out of the shower insisted it hadn't been there then. I was totally confused. I had a couple of weeks before the semester started, so I flew to Richmond. - (Paul) And we just totally hit it off. - (Dai) Totally. - (Jasper) Paul Eton resigned his position and moved to California, where the two of them have been cohabitating blissfully ever since. Proof that love works in mysterious ways. Jasper Adena, Channel 12 news. That story brought a tear to my eye. Jasper had a knack for that. - (Ray, to me) Love DOES work in mysterious ways, doesn't it? - Indeed it does. I'm so glad he loves both of us. - (Ray) Well, he loves you. He just puts up with me. - He likes you in bed well enough. - (Ray) Ha! He sure does. And I love his sweet ass. - Who knows, maybe someday he'll love you for your sweet personality. - (Ray) Don't hold your breath. * * * * * * * * TWELVEMONTH, DAYS 3 THROUGH 9 * * * * * * * * VARIOUS WORLDS � JES�S DAY 3 - MANUWORLD was, in many ways, the opposite of Agriworld. Here � Falcon's domain � everyone was building things. Since no one was farming, food was just there at the grocery store. And no one ever questioned where it came from, they just took it for granted. I stopped in to see Al Casey in his job building swimming pools. His new wife worked at home, having a small potting shed and selling her goods from their garage in Santa Barbara. We had to relocate Al to California so that he could meet Jen, Jordan's sister. The physics had suggested that they'd hit it off, and they had. DAY 4 - ARTWORLD was Paolo's project. He'd lobbied for it to be all-male, unsuccessfully. There was already an imbalance between the sexes, and it would have been unfair to all the talented women in Alphaworld not to have an outlet for their artistic endeavors. And it would have been unfair to Theo, who was straight, to be in a world without women. Theo and Piers were, in fact, winning an award for their production of The Tempest. And Tim had an exhibition of his avian sculptures at the Art Institute of Chicago. DAY 5 � PARTYWORLD. I was glad we didn't, in the end, replace Dion with Estevan on the Board. Partyworld was an inspiration. No one had jobs. Everyone just had a good time, all the time. They never worried about paying the rent, where the next meal was coming from, or global conflict. They just enjoyed each other � straights, gays, lesbians � all mixed together. A Utopia � but a little shallow, and the physics would not have allowed it to exist without it being balanced by something more ominous, like . . . DAY 6 � WARWORLD � Ari's Utopia: every civilization at war in some way, crossing historical timelines. Some conflicts were fought with tanks and artillery, others with rifles and bayonets, or with swords and armor � or even with spears. All able-bodied men found themselves in Warworld (I refused to subject women to this environment, which was either noble of me or sexist.) Men who had been gay in Alphaworld happily engaged in recreational sex. For others, sex was a form of assault � or punishment. The standard protocol for disciplining miscreant soldiers was to have them fucked by their platoon. The need for sexual gratification led officers to make the capture of enemy soldiers, not territorial advance, their highest priority. A captured prisoner was certain to be raped frequently, tortured, emasculated, and � when his captors had tired of him � put to death in some sadistic manner. Even so, this was not the end. Thanks to the physics, as we explained to our backers in St. Moritz several years ago, death was far from final. The next day, he would simply wake up in the same condition he was in when the multiverse was activated. In Warworld, he would die many times, without realizing it. Ari was in heaven. I stopped in to see Tim in Afghanistan, protecting Shabhaz from capture, a goal to which he had so far been successful. His sergeant, Penn, was busy plunging his cock into unwilling Afghan backsides. DAY 7 � INTELLECTUWORLD In Thibaut's domain, everyone pursued knowledge, and many disseminated it. Dai and Paul were both teaching here. Augie was studying to become a minister, though one who would NOT be preaching fire and brimstone. But the star of the day was Abe, who had just won a Nobel Prize for groundbreaking biometric work on Penis Recognition Technology. DAY 8 � SEAWORLD, Simon's creation, had been the most technically challenging of the universes, entirely reversing the geography of the earth, so that the world's land masses became oceans and the oceans became continents. I dropped in on the location in the Caribbean several fathoms beneath where the island had existed in Betaworld. The Flight 12 passengers all lived there together in a community � a school of humans, if you will. Actually, more like mermen, as we had to give them tails to maneuver around the oceans more easily, as well as gills for breathing. They had no fears of sharks or other predators, which had been rendered docile in this universe. I found Simon entertaining Stan and Ian in his undersea cave. They said they were on their way to a production of The Tempest that Theo and Piers had put on. Both Theo and Piers had found partners � one female and one male � and Theo passed on the news that Al and Jen were having a merbaby � due date 2095. (Thanks to the 144-fold extension of time extant in the multiverse. One thing we hadn't thought through carefully � childbirth could take weeks. Blame it on our unconscious bias toward all-male relations.) DAY 9 � HUNTWORLD, like Warworld, existed in different timeframes in different areas of the world. Augie and Alfonso, for example, found themselves in the Old West, which Arturo (who governed Huntworld) kept supplied with plenty of game. Ian and Stan were in prehistoric Europe, where even mammoths could be hunted and used for food. Seth and Abe were part of a community of hunter-gatherers that included heterosexual couples as well as gay pairs. But I chose Africa for this trip, where it was the mid-nineteenth century, where I would visit a man who was not on the island but whom we placed in a prominent role in Huntworld, Warworld and a few other universes. His name is Thimba Azikewe. His first name means `he who hunts lions'. In Huntworld he is known as King Thimba, for he is the ruler of his tribe. He has no wife, for he prefers his own sex, and he is respected among his people for his dominance of other men. `If he can do that to a man, he can dominate anyone' one of his subjects said to me. I appeared to him in the guise of one of his tribesmen, and he engaged with me as if he had known me all his life. - The hunting expedition is returning. Let us see what they have brought us. His tribesmen, dressed only in loincloths, entered the village. Three sets of them carried in the fruits of their hunt, suspended from poles to which the animal's legs were tied. The first pair of tribesmen bore a gazelle. The second animal required four men to carry it on a pair of poles � a wildebeest. The third animal required only a single pole. It was different. It was wearing clothes. And a strip of cloth had been stuffed inside its mouth. - (Thimba) What is this you have found for me? - (tribesman) A white man, your highness. An explorer. We thought he would make a good slave. - Indeed he would. That is all the white tribe is good for. But slaves should not be dressed. Render him in a proper state. In a trice, the man was released from his poles and stripped naked. He pulled the cloth from his mouth, which he opened to unleash a furious invective. - Look here! I am a British citizen. I demand you release me at once. - You are in no position to demand anything. I am making you my slave. - Haven't you gotten that backwards? It's you Ubangis who should be the slaves. The white man is superior to your race in all respects. - I will teach you otherwise. The gazelle and the wildebeest we will skin for clothing and cook for food. If you are not a satisfactory slave, we will do the same to you. (to a tribesman) fetch me some animal fat. I am going to lubricate his sex channel. And with amusement I watched Ed Niemann cry out in protest as he was greased up and vigorously fucked by the king, followed by his entire tribal council. Noting Ed's racism, we had placed him in positions subservient to Black men in several universes. This had been the fourth time Ed had been captured in Huntworld, in each case his arrogance getting the better of him; so far he had always wound up in the tribesmen's bellies, only to wake up the next day and be captured all over again. However, there was one positive sign: In each iteration his survival had lasted longer, and I had hopes that eventually, he would learn to submit, making his slavery permanent and not fatal. His was not the only case of a punishment fitting the crime. * * * * * * * * TWELVEMONTH, DAY 10 * * * * * * * * LESBOWORLD � JES�S I had put it off as long as possible, but I needed to get in my visit to Lesboworld before I finished off the tour with my two favorite universes. Lesboworld was a barren place, full of sand, cactus, and tumbleweed. The harsh environment was a consequence of the physics � a desert climate was necessary to balance Seaworld. Fortunately, the lesbians who populated it were genuinely happy with the environment; a positive attitude was something we had programmed into all universes. However, positive attitudes were not universal (pardon the pun). LESBOWORLD � SEAN He materialized in front of my eyes. My sore eyes, and he was a sight for them. Even if it was the person responsible for my being here. - Hello, Sean. - Well, well, Jes�s. I can't say it's nice to see you, but it is refreshing to see someone with a cock and balls. - If you want sex, bend over. - I'm around women all the time. I'm not going to be one for you. - Very well. - Twelveday is coming up. Are you going to leave me here for that? - I'm not that cruel, Sean. I never intended to stick you with Lesboworld, you know that. But after your efforts to sabotage The Project, I daresay you deserve it. - It was only for love, Jes�s. How is he? - Herrick? He and Derisian are happy in all eleven other worlds. - I'm glad. - You don't sound it. - No, Jes�s, I am. It's better than both of us being miserable. I live for the twelfth of every month. Even though . . . Each month I had one day off � the twelfth. Another board member and I would trade places for a day. But there was a restriction. I was not allowed to see Seth on these visits. Jes�s was reading my mind. - It was a test, Sean. You passed it. Next year, you'll be allowed to visit him. - Really? - Really. But be warned: Fuck up his relationship with Derisian, and you'll be forbidden from seeing him again in that � or any � universe. - I promise, Jes�s. So � what about Twelveday? It's only two days from now. I won't have to spend it here, will I? - I think that would be overly cruel. - Do I get to be Overlord for a day? It was a preposterous suggestion � and yet logical. Each of the other board members had taken their turn spelling me for a day so I could escape Lesboworld and have normal sex. Jes�s had promised to take his turn � but hadn't yet. Jes�s's smile reminded me that my suggestion, while logical, was preposterous. - The most important day of the year, and you expect me to spend it with women? Sorry, no; I'm going to spend it in the company of men. In Homoworld. - Can I come with you? - No. But I will let you go to Prisonworld, which is all-male, after all. I'll even put you in the same cell with Herrick. - I can fuck him? - If he agrees. I think he's stronger than you physically, Sean, I don't think you can force him. - Where will Derisian be? - I'll arrange for him to be with Percy. He won't mind. - Thank you, Jes�s. But . . . who'll be in charge here? Hamish has already taken his turn, you can't give him lesbians on Twelveday. - No. Your assistant will be in charge. - What, MAGDA? None of Lesboworld's residents attracted me sexually, but on a social level I got on well with them. But the woman assigned to be my assistant was a pain in the ass. She wasn't a lesbian � and as I was the only man on the planet, she was perpetually begging me for sex. - Why did you punish me with Magda anyway? - We weren't punishing you. We were punishing her. - Why? - Well, you have to admit, she is a bitch. - Kowalczyk certainly thought so. * * * * * * * * TWELVEMONTH, DAY 11 * * * * * * * * PRISONWORLD � JES�S I chose Prisonworld as the place where Sean could spend Twelveday because it was Sean's design in the first place. It seemed only fitting to allow him a vacation in the place he'd most enjoy, fucking inmates to his heart's content � including Herrick, if he would let him. I'd spend Twelveday in Homoworld, but Prisonworld was actually my favorite universe. While everything in Homoworld was lovey-dovey � with kink � Prisonworld was all about power relationships. And power relationships were more my thing than romance. That was the case for Hamish, as well. He had dominion over all the world's prisons; the one that housed the Twelve had Percy as its official warden, but Hamish spent most of his time there, delegating responsibility for the other prisons to local wardens. We'd arranged for most of the Betaworld couples to be cellmates. Initially strangers, they formed relationships as we expected they would, mostly independent of the gangs that could terrorize unsuspecting young inmates. Ed we gave to a big Black drug dealer, who quickly made Ed his gang's bitch. And all the inmates accepted, as a fact of life, that from time to time they would be raped and beaten by guards. Another aspect of Prisonworld that appealed to me � while guards and other prison staff wore uniforms, inmates were kept nude at all times. PRISONWORLD - JORDAN There's a hierarchy in prison. Harry and I are on the bottom rung. At the very top there's the warden � though the warden's husband, Hamish, seems to be running the place most of the time. The two of them have total control and can do whatever they want to whomever they want whenever they want. Next up are the guards, who can have any of us any time they want � and they do. Three times a day, we have to stand outside our cells for inspection. That's what they call it, anyway � it's really `selection'. The guards choose who they want to use � which usually involves beating our asses with a prison strap until it's three shades of maroon, often involves beating their fists on our torsos, balls, and even faces, and always � always � involves fucking. One guard in particular has taken a fancy to both me and Harry. His name is Barry Russell, but says we are to address him as `Sir Barry Russell'. He likes to use his baton on our back, thighs, and especially our buttocks both before and after he thrusts his oversized cock up our rectums. I'd have thought Harry, being heavy, wouldn't be such a favorite, but he chooses Harry as often as he chooses me � which is every day. Usually me in the mornings and Harry in the afternoons � we're so bruised that none of the guards select us for evening sessions. Fortunately, everything heals overnight so we don't have to go around looking at each other's bruised butts all the time. The next level down are the gang leaders and other wolves. They have an agreement with the guards as to which punks � that's us � are available to whom. Every gang has its whores. One of them, an older English guy named Ed who's in the cell next to ours, has become the property of one of the Black gangs. Every night, Harry and I listen to his cries as one gang member after another bangs his sorry ass. My friend Augie had been targeted by a Latino gang to become their bitch, but a dude named Alfonso offered him protection. So now he's Alfonso's wife. At least the gangs and other predators leave Harry and me alone. And Barry, while he beats the shit out of us and fucks us hard, is actually quite fond of both of us. He's talked about moving us in with him when we get released. Only � I'm not sure we'll ever get released. Meanwhile, I have Harry, who is the sweetest guy in the whole world. He makes life here not just tolerable, but downright acceptable. In these months together, we've grown to truly love each other. PRISONWORLD - HAMISH The man in front of me was a fish, all right. He had been going through legal procedures since the first of the year, and as such, had been in a holding pen, not in gen pop. Prisoners in holding pens were allowed certain privileges, such as privacy, music, and clothing. All that was about to end for this inmate, a middle-aged prisoner who had no idea of what prison life was like. That was true from his attitude as he stood before me. - I demand to see my lawyer! I should have been released by now. I have committed no crime. - What does crime have to do with prison? You're here because you're here. - Prison is a place for criminals. I am not a criminal. - Strip. - . . . What did you say? - I said, `Strip'. Naked. - Nudity is against God. Adam and Eve were thrown out of the Garden of Eden � - Prisoners are not permitted clothing. Strip! - That's inhumane. - I'll show you what's inhumane. Percy, bring in the Jaguars. The Jaguars were one of the toughest Latino gangs in the prison. Over fifty members strong, they ruled three cellblock floors with total authority � and woe to you if you crossed them. The leader was a Dominican named Felix Guerra, well-known to me as I had set him aflame in Betaworld along with one of Barry's clients, Mart�n Delgado � also a Jaguar. - Strip, or these boys will strip you. It's the rule, as you can see by their attire � or lack of it. The prisoner realized he had no choice and slowly began to undress. I spoke to Dane, one of the guards standing nearby. - Burn his clothes. He'll never need them again. Looking at the trembling, naked middle-aged white man, Felix circled around him and smiled. - (Felix) Bend over. - What?! - Bend over, bitch. - I'm not a bitch, and I � A sharp smack across the prisoner's cheeks put a quick end to his protests. Three Jaguars forced his legs apart and bent him forward at the waist. Felix pushed a finger into the man's asshole. - (Felix) This thing needs to be stretched out a bit. - (me, smiling) I quite agree. And you boys are just the lot to do it. - (Felix) We gonna make you our bitch, boy. And we gonna punk you ass to anyone who wants to buy it. - (the man) Homosexuality is against � - (me) Stuff it, Pastor Markson. - (Felix) PASTOR Markson, is it? Oh, yes, rev, you should stuff it. And then we gonna stuff it right up your ass. Not the entire gang tonight. There's too many of us. Probably only about twenty tonight. We'll do the rest over the next couple of days. The Jaguars lifted up Augie Stapleton's terrified former minister and carried his nude white body out the door, ready to ravish it for hours. I loved my job. * * * * * * * * TWELVEDAY (formerly known as December 12) * * * * * * * * HOMOWORLD � SETH The guest list was eighteen � seven couples, three singles (Piers, Barry, and Ed), plus Fred. But then Fred sent word that Jes�s would attend. . . . Run that by me again? I mean � Jes�s! Jes�s was the Overlord; conspiracy theorists had postulated that he didn't even exist. How could anyone be more important than the governor of the entire planet? But he did exist. And he was coming to OUR party! Fortunately, this news came before we had sent out invitations. Jes�s would make an odd number, absolutely unacceptable for a Twelveday party. There was no other single we were comfortable inviting, so we had to drop one. The choice was easy � Ed. Ed could be a bit tactless, and we couldn't risk him saying the wrong thing in front of Fred, much less Jes�s. He also was a bit of a racist, and didn't get along well with Vic. We offered to let Jes�s or Fred serve as host, but Fred (speaking for both) said that I should host, in recognition of all I had done. I had no idea what he was talking about; he made some vague reference to my having triggered something, then added that I wouldn't understand. He was right � I didn't. Organizing the invitations had to be done carefully. Half the guests had to be admitted between 10:30 and 10:45 and the other half between 11:00 and 11:15. Furthermore, couples couldn't arrive together; you had to split them up. But what to do with our two distinguished guests, not wishing to insult either. We contacted the governor's Office of Protocol, who responded that we should invite the governor in the first group, and the Overlord in the second, so that he could enter last and make a grand entrance. `Very last?' I inquired, and the response was in the affirmative. I realized the implications of that, which simultaneously constituted an honor, a privilege, and extra pressure. Abe joked that we should invite Gary in the first group and Ray in the second. Well, not all jokes land on their feet. The invitation went to Gary; we'd get two for the price of one, which might lend an element of flexibility to the evening. Abe would serve as greeter for the first wave, which included Miles, Jasper, Augie, Ian, Tim, Jordan, Barry, Dai and Fred, in some order. The second wave would be Vic, Gary, Alfonso, Stan, Shabhaz, Harry, Piers, Paul and Jes�s, in some order. The order depended upon their arrival times, which protocol dictated could not be coordinated with anyone else. HOMOWORLD � ABE We'd reserved three playrooms at the Homocenter, one for each Stage. Dai was the first to arrive, sexy as always, his cock standing out straight and ready for action. Of course, everyone would arrive in this state � it was Twelveday, and we had all awakened hard as lead pipes and suffered our erections throughout the day, proscribed from even touching ourselves until the evening festivities. Then all the patient waiting would be worth it. The second to enter was Tim. He saw Dai there, delighted. I ushered them into the Suck Room, the site of Stage One. The Suck Room had grooved recesses in the walls, the size of a human body. The great thing about them was that they were adjustable. They would adapt to your body size so that it was a snug, comfortable fit. Before each pod was a pair of cushions, suitable for kneeling. I turned to the pair of them. - Who wants to go first? Tim gestured to Dai, who stepped inside the pod. - (Dai)You remember, I have quite a prodigious output. - (Tim) That's why I was so happy to see you when I walked in. I'm thirsty. - You won't be when I'm finished. Tim dropped to his knees and circled his lips around Dai's lovely uncut cock. He worked it slowly, rhythmically, and I longed to stand there and admire the act but the buzzer sounded. Someone else had arrived. And goodness, it was Fred himself. My heart sank a little. I was hoping he, like the Overlord, would be the last to arrive. Nevertheless, I instantly sank to my knees. He gestured for me to stand, grabbed my cock, and shook it. Naturally, I reciprocated. My mind flashed back to the bizarre dream I had told Seth about earlier, in which men in other universes greeted each other by shaking hands, not cocks. How bizarre. Seth stood quietly against the wall; the first wave was mine to host, and he had to be circumspect. Nonetheless, Fred approached him, greeted him warmly, and shook his cock. Seth smiled modestly, shook the governor's cock in return, then retreated to his place, so as not to disturb protocol. The governor had been the third. Which meant the fourth was in for a big surprise. And so was I � for the next to arrive was Augie. Augie. It would have to be Augie. Of all the guests in the first wave, I was hoping it would not be Augie. Mind you, I loved Augie � we all did. But he was the least experienced of everyone on the guest list; until about a year ago, he was a virgin. His sexual repertoire was, shall we say, underdeveloped. And now, he would be partnered with Fred! Fortunately, he preferred oral sex to anal, and Alfonso had sharpened his skills considerably since they had gotten together. I was astonished that the governor knew who he was, but he shook Augie's cock aggressively and hugged him warmly. - (Fred) Augie! So glad to see you! So glad that you'll shortly be sucking my cock. And after that � I'll suck yours! Augie turned pale, and dropped to his knees, prompting the governor to laugh. - (Fred) Not here, Augie. (to me) I presume you reserved a Suck Room for this activity. - Absolutely, sir. - Excellent. Augie, come with me. You're a cute young thing, aren't you, boy. His hand was on Augie's ass for the entire trip to the Suck Room, where Tim was slurping Dai like a popsicle. I awaited the arrival of the remaining group of Wave One � whoever was the last to arrive would be my partner. The next two pairings were Miles and Jasper, then Ian and Jordan. Which left only - Barry! - Hello, pussycat. Ready to chow down on my bone? - You planned to be last, didn't you? Hoping it would be me? - Yes, and you're loving it. Once again, I will make you my bitch. - No, I'm a pussycat, remember? You're the pooch. It was a running joke we had, so old I couldn't remember how it started. Barry was a dog, and I was a pussycat. And he liked to chase me like a dog chasing a cat. Only I let him catch me. I led him into the Suck Room and snuck into a pod before he had a chance to, and strapped myself in. - Ah, no, Barry. You're going to have to wait your turn. I'm a host of this shindig, and I'm getting serviced first. Barry's cock was one of the largest among our guests, but it was most effective when fucking ass. Hopefully, I would experience that aspect of it as well before party's end. HOMOWORLD � SETH Piers was first to arrive in the second wave. Piers, being single, was one of Abe's matchmaking targets. Initially, he tried to pair him with Ed, who knew a lot about Shakespeare � which, Piers, as an actor/director, gave them a field of common interest. It hadn't worked out, as Ed couldn't restrain himself from criticizing some of Piers's artistic choices. He approved of him programming `Romeo and Julius', but scoffed at comedies like `The Importance of Fucking Ernest' or musicals like `Hello Donny' or `Seven Grooms for Seven Brothers.' It was Tim's partner Shabhaz who wound up sucking Piers's dick. Our best friend Harry was the next to arrive, and he partnered with Dai's lover Paul. Vic and Stan constituted the third pairing of this wave, which left Augie's new partner Alfonso to match up with Gary. That is, Gary and Ray. It became clear that Gary would suck Alfonso's cock, and then Alfonso would suck Ray's. Although, as I understood it, both of them would experience both climaxes. I've known them since forever, and I still don't understand that dynamic. But it seems to work for them, so I'll leave well enough alone. In the Suck Room, four mouths were happily engaged with four cocks. The first wave having completed their initial orgasms, I joined them in the common room to nosh on crudit�, fruit, nuts (the kind that grow on trees), and finger sandwiches � not made with actual fingers. And greeted the Overlord. Somehow when I saw him, I experienced a weird sense of d�j� vu, as if I already knew him. I had a vision of his face appearing on a giant screen, like Big Brother in Orwell's `1984'. But, of course, I'd never met him and fell to my knees to shake his cock. I wanted then and there to take it into my mouth � if I could. I had never seen an organ that large in my life. He read my mind. - You're thinking it should be twelve inches. But there are other men with organs that long, I needed to exceed that. My length is a multiple of twelve, though � thirty-six centimeters. Which is just over fourteen inches. I think you'll enjoy that, Herrick. `Herrick'. Somehow I knew he was going to refer to me by my last name. - You'll be draining it twice. I hope you weren't thinking I'd reciprocate. Well, I kinda was. My cock had been itching for release all day, and while it would surely find it during the coming hours, I didn't want to have to wait. Plus, the bragging rights! The Overlord sucking MY cock? Well, I suppose it was unrealistic. What was also unrealistic was taking that monster into my mouth comfortably. I had known that the responsibility of bringing the Overlord off would be pressure, but when his member was THIS large? We walked into the Suck Room and heard gasps from Piers, Paul, Vic and Alfonso when they saw the size of Jes�s's penis. It was enough to make their fellators stop and turn their heads to see what had prompted such a reaction. Jes�s fit himself into a pod, which, naturally, fit his profile perfectly; the straps tightened around him, having been programmed to release only upon his orgasm. I lowered myself down, knees on the cushions, and faced the great challenge. Lord, he smelled good, as I suppose an Overlord must. I don't know how I manage to take his thick organ in my mouth, but somehow I did. His giant phallus slid in and out of my throat so smoothly, it seemed like it was going halfway down my esophagus. Yes, I gagged more than once, but those fourteen inches managed to get far enough in me that his pubes tickled my face. When his viscous fluid poured down my gullet, he pulled out, patted me on the head, said, "Good boy", and dove right back in for a second round. Then it was on to Stage Two, for which we moved into the Orgy Room. The room was set up with ten fucking benches. There was nervous anxiety � who would get placed over them? We each had to reach into a bowl to pull out a white marble or a black marble. Those who drew white would fuck those who drew black. There were eight white marbles and ten black ones � the numbers would have been even, but there was no way that Jes�s and Fred would ever be bottoms! I, as host, drew first. I was nervous. I rarely bottomed � never with Abe, and only occasionally at parties. But, to my relief, I drew white. Abe, next, drew black. Ordinarily ideal, but I would not be fucking him in Stage Two � it was not protocol. He spent the next hour tied over a fucking bench, along with Paul, Dai, Alfonso, Miles, Barry, Ian, Tim, Jordan, and Gary. Augie, Stan, Piers, Vic, Jasper, Shabhaz, Harry, were the tops, along with Fred, Jes�s and me. Three pairs (Augie/Alonso, Stan/Ian and Tim/Shabhaz) wound up in the role opposite of the role they preferred in their relationship. As for another pair � Harry and Jordan � it was a bit ironic, as both of preferred to bottom, which made them popular at parties (and Barry, normally all top, was a frequent guest at their house). The timer was set, and the fucking began. A top could fuck any unoccupied bottom other than his partner. I was not surprised when Jes�s chose Barry to fuck. I WAS surprised when he referred to him as `pooch'. This was Abe's nickname for him, and how Jes�s knew that was beyond me. But then, Jes�s was the Overlord, and probably knew just about everything. Fred sank his cock into Dai's shapely ass � imho the loveliest in the room other than Abe's (I'm biased), and the governor always fixated on beauty. Vic selected Tim's elongated rump, while Tim's partner, Shabhaz took rare advantage of the opportunity to be on top with Paul. Piers opted for the black bottom of the only Black bottom present, Miles, while Stan fucked Alfonso, Harry did Ian, and Augie, to my surprise, started to fuck Jordan. There was some kind of relationship between Augie and Jordan that I didn't understand � they seemed both fond of each other and a bit stand-offish. That left Jasper to sink his cock into my beloved � a good choice, I liked Jasper a lot (and hoped to sample his wares later) and I, ever the polite one, waited for everyone else to make their choice, assuming I'd get dregs as leftovers. I didn't � I got the self-contained twins, Gary and Ray. Gary loved the feel of my cock in him � Ray not so much, but he'd gotten used to it. I gave Gary a thorough rogering that he would have remembered for a while � were it not for the fact that there was more to come. Two benches to my right I was hearing howls coming from Barry, who was finding Jes�s's enormous phallus difficult to accommodate. I had to grin � Barry was well-endowed himself, and reveled in mixing pain in with the pleasure he gave while topping. Jes�s's choice after Barry made me wince: Miles. Miles was the smallest man in the room, barely five foot three and a hundred and twenty pounds. And Jes�s's fourteen-incher up that tiny behind? The poor guy was screaming. Jes�s laughed at his discomfort, not giving a fuck while giving a fuck, and Miles's grunts permeated the room as Jes�s pulverized his insides. I, meanwhile, had moved on to my good friend Ian, whose insides I quite enjoyed violating. When we had sex, Ian complained that I was too vanilla, so I upped the ante whenever we connected. Abe, I saw, was being done by Piers, and Harry was plunging into Tim. Augie had Dai, Stan was doing Gary, Jasper was breeding Alfonso, Shabhaz was raping Jordan, and Vic was doing Paul up brown with his black cock. Before the timer sounded, I had stuck my cock into Barry, Dai, and Alfonso � an ass I had never before called my own. Alfonso was Augie's new mate, and generally topped him � as had I on the two occasions when we'd partied together. Abe, unfortunately, was next on Jes�s's list. I think he would have been second had Piers not gotten to him first in the second round. Fred was next on his dance card, and Fred's endowment, while no comparison to Jes�s's, was not to be sneezed at. My love was going to be quite sore for a while � and I hadn't even had my crack at him. I got my rocks off five times in that hour, regretting that I had missed out on half the bottoms. But then this was just Stage Two, Part One. As the gong sounded to close the hour, the ten bottoms were untied, and we spent a quarter of an hour refreshing ourselves � showering, hydrating, snacking lightly for extra energy. Some of us would need it � some would only require patience and stamina. Back we went to the Orgy Room and once again our hands went into the vase containing eight white marbles and ten black ones. This time, luck was not on my side. Both Abe and I drew black, delighting Jes�s, who announced that I would be number one on his list, and that no one should get there first. Uh, no one would dare, Jes�s, not with that kind of pronouncement. Abe, at least, would be spared, as the protocols forbid doing the same guy twice, but he was in for another solid hour of being fucked by several guys � just not ones who had done him in Part One. Having already endured the mouth-rape of Jes�s's prodigious phallus, I steeled myself for its invasion up my ass. When I felt it, I wondered how on earth he had ever gotten inside Miles � had Miles been a virgin, it would have been impossible. My own hole was no virgin, but neither had it been stretched to twice its size by repeated violation. Jes�s pounded my cheeks, screaming at me to let him in. I pushed out as hard as I could, trying to accommodate him, and when he finally forced his way past my irritated sphincter, it was with enough power to drive a locomotive. I screamed. I suddenly knew why Barry was screaming when Jes�s fucked him. It didn't take a small man like Miles to suffer under the thrust of the Overlord. Abe had screamed, as well as Dai, Paul, and Gary � all of whose asses Jes�s had conquered brutally. Jes�s reached parts of me I didn't even know existed. Pounding my prostate? That was the beginning. He could have rammed it into my stomach, the way he was jackhammering that mammoth organ up my rump. And I am six foot three. I could not imagine what it would have done to Abe, who's only five-seven. - Take it, bitch. You know you love it. I didn't, and yet I did. I mean, Jes�s was the essence of manhood. His cock in my ass was a perfect communion, even if I would have preferred it the other way. This was quintessential sex � the mighty asserting his authority over the vanquished. And tied down over that bench, no one was more vanquished than I. I was unused to being the submissive, but with a man this powerful, there was no choice. I had to revel in my role � I was a piece of meat, raw flesh to be dominated and pounded into submission. Finally, he bred me, long flowing rivers of semen spurting up my colon, seeming to invade every cubic inch of my intestines, large and small. Logically, I knew that was impossible, especially as it was at least the sixth time he had ejaculated in the last hour and a half, but I felt completely filled with his juice as if I needed a butt plug inserted into me just to keep a gallon of liquid from spilling out. HOMOWORLD � JES�S You are wondering if I had a fourteen-inch cock my whole life. Of course not. But if you're creating a new universe, you might as well program in some biological changes. All board members got twelve-inch cocks out of the deal. But I AM the boss, after all. I must have the biggest cock. And so I do. HOMOWORLD � SETH After Jes�s withdrew, Barry fucked me. Barry had a mere ten or eleven inches. Followed by Fred (twelve), Vic (nine, but THICK), Ian (normal sized, thank goodness) and Ray. Ray enjoyed taunting me while plowing away at my innards. Every once in a while Gary would pop in to apologize for Ray's rudeness, but Ray just told him to shut up, he'd had his sex his way, it was Ray's turn to get his jollies. Which I guess was fair enough. There was a third hour of Stage Two yet to come, for which I was, again, a bottom, while Abe was a top. After all that, we were spent. It was shower time again, and noshing time again, though this time the goodies were restricted to the crudit�, and no one had much of them. There was a ceremonial serial hug, in which each of us hugged every other member of the group � a total of 190 hugs in all. Jes�s managed to mix in some vigorous ball-squeezing as part of his hugs, and his grip was as fierce as his fucking. And then it was time for the Finale. Which, for me at least, meant no more injury to my asshole. We moved to the Dungeon. The Dungeon was the largest room in the Homocenter's Playsuite, furnished with a wide variety of equipment � St. Andrew's crosses, fucking benches, strapping tables, bondage chairs, a rack for stretching, vises, chains, slings, wrap for mummification � you name it, it was there. The rules were simple. When you entered the room, you had to pick a side � top or bottom. If it was uneven, the host had the right to reassign people so that everyone had a partner. The results were predictable: Vic, Ian, Alfonso, Barry, Tim, Dai, and Jasper chose the dom side, along with myself, Fred and Jes�s. Abe, Miles, Stan, Augie, Shabhaz, Paul, Gary, Harry and Jordan opted for being subs. While Piers might have preferred being a dom, he agreed to be a sub, to keep it balanced. In Stage Three, each dom picked a sub, whom he could use with `no limits'. Traditionally, partners paired up, but with the presence of Jes�s and Fred, things were a bit unsettled. I had hoped to celebrate Twelveday's climactic event with the love of my life, but I couldn't if the Overlord stepped in and grabbed him out from under me. I gestured to Jes�s to make his selection, who deferred to Fred. From their body language, I suspected it was all arranged in advance. - (Fred) I choose Piers. HOMOWORLD � SETH It was time for Jes�s to make his selection. Please, not Abe, I thought. Jes�s had made Abe his very first choice to fuck in Stage Two, and there was no restriction on picking him again for Stage Three. - (Jes�s) I choose . . . Please, not Abe. Please, not Abe. Please, not Abe. - (Jes�s) Harry. HOMOWORLD � HARRY This morning I told Jordan about my nightmare. I dreamt I was in a city called Philadelphia, living alone with a cat. And I was miserable. I was good at my job and had a few casual friends, but I had no love life whatsoever. People ridiculed me because of my body. There was even a moment when barbecue sauce was poured over me and I was called a fat pig. Fortunately, I woke up to reality. I was heavy, yes, but life couldn't be more splendid. Even though both Jordan and I were natural bottoms, we loved each other and our sexual predilections were satisfied by frequently double-dating a pair of tops. There was nothing I loved more than the feel of a muscular top plumbing my nether regions � which happened several times a week. And now, the honor of being chosen by the Overlord himself. I was delirious. Was it possible to be a happier man than I? I don't think so. HOMOWORLD - ABE - Now, everyone, you know the rules. Doms, you have six hours to do anything you please to your subs. You are expected to fuck him multiple times � and, thanks to it being Twelveday, you have an unlimited supply of semen to do it with. You may use any piece of equipment in the room, you can team up with another dom to tag-team your subs � spitroasting is absolutely encouraged, especially if the sub is in heavy bondage. You may do as much damage as you like to your sub, short of severing a body part � that won't be restored the next time he wakes up. HOMOWORLD � JES�S Another feature we copied from Hamishland � auto-repair of injuries. HOMOWORLD - ABE - And remember, a prize will be awarded for the most damaged ass, as measured by the mark-o-meter. I have a feeling our friend Harry might win that one, given who he's partnered with. - (Seth) And subs, we want to make sure you are as compliant as possible. And what can do that more readily than alcohol? The doms will force-feed you a stein full of gin-and-tipsies. - (Harry) Gin-and-tipsies? You mean gin-and-tonic? - (Seth) Well, that's what they are. We make them heavy on the gin. - (Harry) Why do you call them gin-and-tipsies? I looked at Seth. Seth looked at me. - You know, I have no idea. It just came to me, I guess. Now, who wants handcuffs? THE END
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-49	Date: Thu, 4 Jul 2024 22:35:24 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 49 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER FORTY-NINE: AND IF I DON'T? Previously: * Seth completes two of the three tasks necessary to launch The Project: He shoots arrows into Tim (who is `fine') and fucks the five surviving members of The Twelve whom he had not yet fucked � including Harry, fulfilling Harry's dream. After fucking Paul, Seth is ordered to wear Paul's jockstrap. * Barry, who agreed to surrender his cock for a few hours in order to save Miles and Jordan, is informed he has only a 56% chance of regaining it when The Project launches. * Seth learns that the third task is to behead Abe. In flashbacks: * Four years ago, Jes�s learned that an imbalance in the design of the twelve universes required the creation of an all-female universe, Lesboworld. No one wanted to rule it, so a random method was agreed to; Sean drew the proverbial short straw, but this fact was kept secret. Nevertheless, Ari uncovered it, and informed Sean, generating Sean's primary motivation for sabotaging The Project. * Earlier this year, Seth, accompanied by a co-worker named Shirley, bought a pair of reading glasses for a homeless man, Ram"n, as a Random Act of Kindness. [Author's Note: you might want to reread the brief Prologue in the first posting of this story.] * * * * * * * * MONDAY, DECEMBER 31, LATE EVENING * * * * * * * * THE WHITE ROOM - SETH I stared at the image of Jes�s in the monitor. There was only one thing to say: - And if I don't? ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND � JES�S Of course we knew he would balk at the final task. Over the course of the month, the physics had made a number of unpleasant demands of him � defecating on a man, castrating a man with three testicles, fucking sometimes-reluctant friends � all of which he had complied with, motivated by a single goal: to reunite with his beloved Abe. And we were asking him to sever those ties � in the most literal sense possible. There was something else I had to sever: the link. There was nearly an hour before the twelve-minute launch window. I couldn't keep Betaworld open in St. Moritz for that long � it would disintegrate in about half an hour. I had to keep this interface short. - Unfortunately, I have to depart momentarily. Sean will explain things. And I returned to Alphaworld. I hated not being there to observe, but we weren't completely incommunicado with the island. We opened a channel to Betaworld for ten seconds every minute, so that Hamish could send a status report, which only took microseconds to transmit. We'd get up-to-date details on what was transpiring, and could take action if anything went sideways. The board room was tense for more than one reason. When � if � The Project launched, one of the Stimulever board members would be forced to accept Lesboworld as their domain. The choice having been made completely by chance, I was the only one who knew who it was. I'd held this secret for four years � to reveal it earlier risked having the disappointed loser working against furthering The Project. So we agreed that the identity of Lesboworld's governor would be withheld until just before the launch window was opened, when it would be too late for him to change anything. Without the visual distraction of events at the island, there was nothing to deflect the board members' attention from their dread of having to spend eternity (or at least the next 1200 years) reigning over a desert world with nary a fuckable male in it. It was time to alleviate some of that anxiety. - You can all relax, in one respect. You won't get stuck with Lesboworld. - (Paolo) What do you mean? Somebody has to. - Sean. Sean has to. - (Fred) SEAN?! - Since he's not here, no reason I can't tell the rest of you. - (Germ�n) But Sean is � I mean he's THERE. He's supposed to make sure the Trigger � - Sean has no idea it's him, and he wants his Prisonworld very badly. So as long as he doesn't know, he'll do everything he can to advance The Project. When it comes time for the reveal, I'll lie. I'll say it was Dion. But relax, Dion � it's not you. You'll still have your Partyworld. - (Dion) I'm relieved, but I feel bad for Sean. - (Ari) Thank goodness he doesn't know. ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND � ARI Oh, but he does know. And if the Project goes up in flames, I'm confident that Jes�s would be ousted. Then who else would they turn to but me? I needed Sean to do what he had promised, and sabotage The Project. In return, I promised to make him my second in command. The question was how Sean would handle the next hour. He had to be careful, with Hamish feeding us frequent updates. He had to look like he was doing the Board's will. Until the critical moment, when he would make a critical move. I wish to hell I knew when and how he would act. Sean, you had better come through. Or else you WILL get stuck with Lesboworld. THE WHITE ROOM � SEAN The problem was there was too much damn time. I had a script I was to follow. If I strayed too far from it too early, Hamish would let Jes�s know, and they would intervene in some way. I had to wait; I had one last card to play, but it could only be played at the last minute. Seth might very well doubt me, but could he risk that I might be right? I didn't think so. So for now � corporate line. Keep Hamish quiet, which meant keeping Jes�s reassured. THE WHITE ROOM - SETH - (Sean) On the surface, I told you � I told everyone � that the Project would spare you from the worst year of your lives in Alphaworld. Yes, Sean, and you also told me the opposite. I could point this out, but at this moment, confrontation, while emotionally satisfying, was not the most effective way of eliciting information. And I needed to know what the hell was going on. . - Why were you and the Twelve chosen? All of you had to meet certain criteria � your sexual histories, your birthdays, and so forth. You, Seth, were the only possible choice for the Trigger, but scores of men qualified to be Twelves. These specific men were selected because the physics showed us they would want The Project to be launched, because if it wasn't, the coming year would be the worst of their lives � and for some, the last. While he spoke, the surviving members of the Twelve paraded into the room � those I had fucked tonight (Dai, Paul, Barry, Ed, Harry) and those I hadn't (Augie, Jasper, Vic, Gary, Tim). I was glad to see Tim ambulatory, though his gait was awkward, his ass tattered with bandages. And then three other captives filed in behind them: Jordan, Miles, and Ian. Thirteen men I cared about were standing naked against the wall, wondering what momentous thing was about to happen when New Year's Eve turned into New Year's Day. One person was absent � the one I cared about more than all the rest put together. I turned to Sean. - Abe's not here. Why is everyone else? - (Sean) They deserve to hear this. Your decision will determine their future. - A year that hasn't happened yet. - Correct. - Is this where you tell me again about your remarkable simulation programs? And you dazzle me by predicting the past? - (Sean, smiling) Touch�. You're right, there wouldn't be much point in that, Seth. Our model did indeed forecast some things we both know � the death of Abe's father, Tim's commission from the Audubon Society, and so on. But there were other predictions � things no one has told me, so I don't actually know if they occurred. Let's find out how accurate they were. Ed, did Leo flunk out of Georgia Tech? - (Ed) Who the hell told you that? - (Sean) Did he? - (Ed) Yes, but it's none of your fucking business. - (Sean) Did you ever mention it to anyone on the island? - (Ed) It wasn't any of their fucking business either. - (Sean) A point for us, I think. The simulation predicted that Lucas would catch a foul ball at a Cubs game. A shame we can't ask Lucas, but I'm told we have a video from the television broadcast � Seth, would you like to see it? - No. You could deep-fake that. - (Sean) You're a tough audience, Seth. Paul, did your mother leave Amazon to take a new job? - (Paul) . . . No. - (Sean, taken aback) No? - Oops � your little program slipped up there, Sean. - (Paul) She got a new job, but it was still at Amazon. She just changed departments. - (Sean) Close enough. And did you tell me or anyone else on the island about this? - (Paul) No, why would I? - (Sean, in my face) Not so much of an oops, was it? (to Harry) How about you? Did your cat die? There was a silence. Harry looked at me. - (Harry) Seth, I never told him that. I swear I never told anybody that. - (Sean) In September? - (Harry) Labor Day weekend. - (Sean) Naturally, there were many predictions concerning you, Seth. Most of which you know I know, or could have learned from Abe. But I'm curious about this one, and I quote: "Herrick will buy new glasses for a homeless man, to help him read a newspaper." It stopped me in my tracks. Ram"n, the incident with Shirley on one of my Random Acts of Kindness Thursdays. I hadn't mentioned that story to anyone, not even Abe. I was both proud of it and embarrassed to be proud of it. So I'd kept it to myself, reserving its memory for moments when I needed reassurance that my existence had some meaning, that I was a beneficial force in the world. So how did Stimulever know about it? - Okay, so your little program got some things right. - (Sean) Indeed it did. So perhaps you'll believe me when you see what our program predicted for this coming year. In fact, we made a video of it. - You made a video. - We did. I think everyone should see it � you and the men whose fates are depicted in this film. - Did you advance yourselves in the space-time continuum to film it in real time? - Seth, Seth. Sarcasm was never your most attractive quality. No, these are re-creations based on the simulations' results. We made extensive use of AI. We did have to delete the segments involving Leo and Lucas. - So your physics failed to foresee their deaths. - The simulations were rooted in Alphaworld. Their deaths were in Beta; what happened here could not have been predicted. But, while we lost Leo and Lucas, we included some other people whose future we thought you might be interested in. - Taylor Swift? - Somehow she got left out of it. - A shame, O'Hara. I was hoping my use of his last name � an Alpha-male move � would unnerve him a bit. He didn't look unnerved. But he was watching Hamish carefully. And Hamish was busy texting into his phone. Dammit, Sean, I wish I could read you. Was this for show, all for their benefit? Or are you showing me your true colors? Do you HAVE any true colors? Are you my ally or my adversary? Are you a double agent, plotting against Stimulever? Or loyal to the core, and conning me from Day One? - Maybe you think if you see the future you can prevent it from happening, Seth. But if you make the mistake of rejecting The Project and reverting to Alphaworld, you won't remember this moment, or anything else from the past month. - What will I remember, then? When I go back to Alphaworld, how do I explain the last month? - You'll have memories of the last month. They won't be real, but you won't realize that. You'll have some entertaining stories, but nothing significant will change. - Abe and I . . . - Things will be as you left them on November 30. - That's good enough for me. - Is it? Is it good enough for all the other captives? Are you willing to put them through what you're about to see in order to remain with Abe? - That might depend upon what I'm about to see. - So let's find out � if you think you can handle it. His arrogance was infuriating. I realized I had to respond with arrogance of my own. - Bring it on. Let's see what kind of crap you manufactured. The film began. [Author's Note: normally I would use italics to distinguish between content of the video and `real time' in the White Room. Since that is impossible under the Plain Text format Nifty requires, I'll use ALL CAPS to represent the narrative on the video and [BRACKETS] to denote a title. Sentence case will indicate Seth's real-time reaction to watching the video.] [ALPHAWORLD 2.0] [PART ONE: RELATIONSHIPS END] [1. VIC AND MILES] SHOT OF VICTOR WORKING AT A RESORT, EYEING AN ATTRACTIVE MAN CLEANING OUT THE POOL. SHOT OF VICTOR WALKING INTO A ROOM CATCHING THE POOL-BOY FUCKING MILES. A FIGHT ENSUES. VICTOR TOSSES THE POOL-BOY INTO THE POOL. HE AND MILES ARGUE. SHOT OF MILES PACKING A SUITCASE. [2. STAN AND MAGDA] SHOT OF STAN PICKING UP A PHONE. - HELLO? - (A MALE VOICE, IN ACCENTED ENGLISH) MAY I PLEASE ESPEAK WIZ MAGDA? - WHO IS THIS? - A FRIEND OF HERS. ARMANDO FERNANDEZ. - ARMANDO. ARE YOU BY ANY CHANCE PERUVIAN? - (CLICK.) SHOT OF STAN AND MAGDA ARGUING FURIOUSLY. SHOT OF STAN CHECKING IN AT THE YMCA. SHOT OF STAN LOOKING AT A YOUNG MAN IN THE HALLWAY, ADMIRINGLY. [3. ED AND BEATRICE] SHOT OF ED HOLDING A PIECE OF PAPER. CLOSE-UP REVEALS THAT IT READS `DIVORCE AGREEMENT. PETITIONER: BEATRICE RUTHERFORD NIEMANN. RESPONDENT: EDWARD LLOYD NIEMANN. [4. AUGIE AND JORDAN] SHOT OF AUGIE, OUTSIDE OF A CHURCH. HE IS APPROACHED BY ALFONSO. - (AUGIE) WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE? - WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE? STILL LISTENING TO PASTOR MARKSMAN? - YES, AND YOU SHOULD, TOO, IF YOU WANT TO AVOID ACTUALLY GOING TO HELL. - OH, AUGIE, DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE STILL CLINGING TO THE MYTH THAT YOU'RE STRAIGHT. - I AM, ALFONSO. I'M GOING TO PROPOSE TO A WOMAN NEXT WEEK. HER NAME IS JORDAN MURDOCK, AND I MET HER IN THIS CHURCH. - REALLY? - IN FACT, THERE SHE IS NOW. SHOT OF ALFONSO RETREATING AS JORDAN, IN FULL DRAG, APPROACHES AUGIE. THEY EMBRACE, MODESTLY, AND HEAD INSIDE. CLOSE-UP OF ALFONSO, LOOKING SKEPTICAL. HE NODS TO HIMSELF, AND SMILES. SHOT OF JORDAN EMERGING FROM THE CHURCH. ALFONSO TRAILS JORDAN TO AN APARTMENT BUILDING, WAITS A MOMENT, THEN GOES INSIDE. ALFONSO READS THE NAME OFF THE PLATE NEXT TO THE BUILDING'S DIRECTORY AND PRESSES THE BUZZER BUTTON. - (JORDAN'S VOICE) YES? - (ALFONSO) DELIVERY FOR A JORDAN MURDOCK. - I'M NOT EXPECTING ANY DELIVERIES. - FLOWERS. FOR A MR. JORDAN MURDOCK. FROM AN AUGUST STAPLETON. - AUGIE SENT ME FLOWERS? HOW SWEET. - YOU'RE MR. MURDOCK. - YES, THAT'S ME. BUT DOES IT SAY `MISTER'? AUGIE WOULDN'T � - OH, NO, SIR, IT JUST SAYS `JORDAN MURDOCK'. I JUST ASSUMED FROM YOUR VOICE THAT � - AH. WELL. YES, I'M MR. MURDOCK. BETTER COME UP THEN. I GUESS. THE BUZZER SOUNDS BUT ALFONSO, SMILING, WALKS OUT OF THE BUILDING, LOOKING AT HIS PHONE, WITH WHICH HE HAS RECORDED THE ABOVE CONVERSATION. SHOT OF ALFONSO AND AUGIE. ALFONSO PLAYS THE RECORDING TO AUGIE. AUGIE GRABS THE PHONE. SLAMS IT TO THE GROUND, AND WALKS OFF IN A RAGE. SHOT OF JORDAN IN HIS APARTMENT, ON THE PHONE. - JEN? HE FOUND OUT. - OH, JORDAN. HOW? - I DON'T KNOW. BUT HE CAME OVER AND HE WHIPPED OFF MY WIG AND DEMANDED I TAKE OFF MY BLOUSE TO SHOW HIM MY CHEST. I THINK HE WAS PREPARED TO MAKE ME STRIP COMPLETELY BUT MY CHEST WAS ENOUGH. - OH, I'M SO SORRY. DO YOU THINK � - NO. IT'S OVER, JEN. HE TOLD ME HE NEVER WANTED TO SEE ME AGAIN. (CRIES). . . . LISTEN, I'VE GOT TO GET OUT OF HERE. CAN I COME VISIT YOU? MAYBE � I MIGHT EVEN MOVE BACK TO CALIFORNIA, THERE'S NOTHING HERE FOR ME NOW. - YOU CAN COME VISIT, BUT DO IT FAST. I'M MOVING TO SAN FRANCISCO IN TWO WEEKS. SHOT OF AUGIE, DESPONDENT, HEAD IN HIS HANDS, CRYING. The bit about Jen moving to San Francisco seemed superfluous. I wonder why they included it. [PART TWO: JOBS END] [1. AL] SHOT OF AL, LOOKING UPSET, TALKING TO A SUPERVISOR. - (SUPERVISOR) I'M SORRY, AL, BUT THEY'RE CLOSING DOWN THIS STORE. YOU'RE OUT OF A JOB. I'LL WRITE YOU A GOOD RECOMMENDATION, IF YOU CAN'T FIND ANYTHING ELSE. SERIES OF SHOTS OF AL INTERVIEWING FOR JOBS AND GETTING REJECTED. SHOT OF AL ENLISTING IN THE ARMY. SHOTS OF HIM IN BASIC TRAINING, LOOKING MISERABLE. [2. VIC] REPEAT SHOT OF VIC PUNCHING THE POOL-BOY AND TOSSING HIM NAKED INTO THE POOL. SHOT OF VIC BEFORE A MAN BEHIND A DESK. - (MAN) YOU'RE FIRED, TORRANCE. SHOT OF VIC GETTING OFF A PLANE IN SNOW-COVERED MINNEAPOLIS, LOOKING DESPONDENT. [3. ED] SHOT OF ED PICKING UP THE PHONE. - HELLO? - (VOICE) SIR EDWARD? - THIS IS HE. - MY NAME IS DERRICK WIDMORE, I'M A REPORTER FOR THE LONDON TIMES. MAY I ASK YOU A FEW QUESTIONS? - WHAT IS THIS ABOUT? SHOT OF LONDON TIMES, ZEROES IN ON HEADLINE: `NOTED SURGEON STOLE TECHNIQUE THAT EARNED HIM KNIGHTHOOD'. SHOT OF ED APPEARING BEFORE A REVIEW BOARD. SHOT OF ED GETTING DISMISSAL NOTICE FROM BRIGHAM & WOMEN'S HOSPITAL. SHOT OF ED LOSING MEDICAL LICENSE. [4. TIM] SHOT OF TIM OPENING A LETTER FROM THE AUDUBON SOCIETY. IT READS, IN PART: `WE REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT THE FUNDING FOR YOUR PROJECT DID NOT MATERIALIZE AND WE WILL HAVE TO TERMINATE IT." SHOT OF TIM DRINKING WHISKEY IN BED WITH A LIT CIGARETTE AND PASSING OUT. SHOT OF TIM WAKING UP AMID SMOKE AND RACING OUT THE DOOR AS FLAMES CONSUME HIS STUDIO. FIRE TRUCKS ARRIVE AND PUT OUT THE FIRE. TIM'S HOUSE IS IN RUINS. - (FIREFIGHTER) YOU'RE INSURED, RIGHT? SHOT OF TIM LOOKING SHOCKED. SHOT OF TIM BEGGING FOR MONEY ON THE STREETS OF ST. LOUIS AND, AS NIGHT FALLS, HEADING INTO A HOMELESS SHELTER. [TITLE: PART THREE: FREEDOM ENDS] [1. IAN] SHOT OF IAN IN A JAIL CELL. I remembered Sean telling Ian that if he were restored to Alphaworld, he would have an implanted memory of being in a Martinique jail to explain his absence during the past year. But now he's implying that if Ian were restored to Alphaworld, he'd still be stuck there. SHOT OF IAN IN CONVERSATION AT MEALTIME WITH OTHER INMATES. SHOT OF INMATES, INCLUDING IAN, OVERPOWERING A GUARD AND ATTEMPTING TO ESCAPE. SHOT OF IAN AND ANOTHER INMATE. - (IAN) THEY ADDED EIGHT YEARS TO MY SENTENCE. EIGHT. - (INMATE) I ONLY GOT FOUR. - AND YOU WERE THE RINGLEADER. I hated Sean's smug reaction when that played out. Ian looked crushed. But I had to remember this was all projection � and was most likely all just propaganda. Nevertheless, worrying. [2. MILES AND BARRY] What? Miles and Barry, in the same episode? This made no sense. SHOT OF MILES IN HIS MINNEAPOLIS APARTMENT. HIS PHONE BUZZES. HE ANSWERS. - (VIC'S VOICE) MILES. - (MILES) VIC, IT'S OVER. AS IN . . . OVER. - IF I COULD JUST SEE YOU FOR A MOMENT. - I WON'T EVEN BE HERE. I'M GOING ON VACATION IN ABOUT SIX HOURS. - WHERE? - THE DOMINICAN REPUBLIC. The Dominican Republic. Shit. There WAS a connection. SHOT OF MILES ARRIVING AT THE SANTO DOMINGO AIRPORT. SHOT OF MILES AT A GAY BAR IN SANTO DOMINGO. WIDER SHOT REVEALS BARRY IN THE SAME BAR. BARRY APPROACHES, PUTS HIS HAND ON MILES' ASS AND WHISPERS IN HIS EAR. Miles would never . . . but then I remembered that if this past month hadn't existed, Miles wouldn't recognize Barry. They were meeting in Alphaworld for the first time. SHOT OF MILES AND BARRY IN BARRY'S DUNGEON SPACE. MILES IS NAKED, BARRY IN LEATHER. BARRY IS FLOGGING MILES VIOLENTLY. THERE IS A POUNDING AT THE DOOR. BARRY FREEZES. - (VOICE) POLIC�A. SHOT OF MILES BEFORE A JUDGE. SHOT OF MILES BEING RAPED IN JAIL, FOLLOWED BY A SHOT OF HIM BEING RELEASED. SHOT OF BARRY BEFORE A JUDGE. - (JUDGE) � BARRY RUSSELL. USTED ES CONDENADO A CINCO A�OS DE CARCEL. [3. RAY] Oh, jeez, Ray. SHOT OF RAY IN A GAY BAR, AGGRESSIVELY APPROACHING A BURLY MAN. THEY EXCHANGE WORDS. THE MAN SLUGS RAY. RAY SLUGS HIM BACK. THE MAN FALLS TO THE FLOOR. RAY POUNDS HIM SENSELESS, PULLS DOWN HIS PANTS AND TRIES TO FUCK HIM. OTHER PATRONS PULL HIM OFF AND CALL THE POLICE. SHOT OF RAY IN A JAIL CELL. LOOKING BEWILDERED, LOST, AND CONFUSED. That wasn't Ray. That was Gary. And he has no idea why he's in jail, or for how long. If we reverted to Alphaworld, Ray wouldn't be there with him. Gary would still be three separate pieces � and the other two would abandon him to let him suffer his jail sentence alone. [TITLE: PART FOUR � LIVES END] A chill went through me. [1. FRIENDLY FIRE] SHOT OF AN OFFICER RINGING A DOORBELL. A MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN ANSWERS. - (OFFICER) MRS. CASEY, I'M VERY SORRY TO TELL YOU THAT YOUR SON ALBERT HAS BEEN KILLED IN A TRAINING ACCIDENT AT FORT BENNING. [2. SHEET HAPPENS] SHOT OF GARY IN JAIL. MULTIPLE SHOTS, EACH LOOKING MORE AND MORE DISCONSOLATE. GARY GATHERING UP BEDSHEET, FASHIONING IT INTO A NOOSE, TYING ONE END TO THE LIGHT FIXTURE IN THE CEILING. HANGS HIMSELF. [3. BUS] SHOT OF PIERS AND THEO EXITING THEATER ON THE STREETS OF NASSAU. SHOT OF BUS IN THE DISTANCE. A LITTLE GIRL BREAKS AWAY FROM HER MOTHER. CROSSES THE STREET. - (PIERS) DAMN! SHOT OF PIERS AND THEO RUSHING TO RESCUE THE LITTLE GIRL. PIERS PUSHES HER OUT OF THE WAY. THE BUS STRIKES BOTH PIERS AND THEO. PIERS FLIES THROUGH THE AIR AND HIS HEAD SMASHES AGAINST A PARKED CAR. THEO LIES ON THE STREET; THE BUS RUNS OVER HIS LEGS. SHOT OF THEO, IN A WHEELCHAIR, LEGLESS. SHOT PULLS OUT TO REVEAL THE SETTING � PIERS'S FUNERAL. [4. EARTHQUAKE] SHOT OF DAI IN HIS APARTMENT. THINGS START TO SHAKE. - (DAI, TO HIMSELF) SHIT. RUMBLING GETS MORE SEVERE. DAI DASHES DOWN ONTO THE STREET, LOOKS UP AND SEES A FACE IN THE WINDOW IN THE APARTMENT ABOVE HIS. All of a sudden I heard a cry from elsewhere in the room. It was Jordan. - (Jordan) Jen! Ah, so that's why they included the bit about Jen moving to San Francisco. She was living in Dai's building? What were the chances of that? SHOT OF DAI, RUSHING BACK INTO THE BUILDING. MOMENTS LATER, THE BUILDING COLLAPSES. [5. CRIMES DON'T NEED A PARTNER] SHOT OF PAUL WATCHING A BASEBALL GAME IN HIS HOUSE IN RICHMOND. PHONE RINGS. HE ANSWERS IT. - YEAH? HI, MA. YES, I'M LEAVING TONIGHT. TWO DAY GAMES AGAINST THE CUBS IN WRIGLEY, I'M REALLY PSYCHED. SHOT OF PAUL IN HIS HOTEL ROOM IN CHICAGO, WATCHING THE NEWS. THE NEWS IS COVERING THE DEVASTATING EARTHQUAKE IN SAN FRANCISCO. - (REPORTER) I'M STANDING HERE IN FRONT OF ONE OF THE APARTMENT BUILDINGS THAT COMPLETELY COLLAPSED. NEIGHBORS DESCRIBED HOW BUILDING RESIDENT DAISUKE OMI, AFTER HAVING EMERGED ONTO THE STREET, WENT BACK INSIDE TO RESCUE A YOUNG WOMAN WHO HAD BROKEN HER LEG AND COULDN'T EVACUATE. THE WOMAN, JENNIFER MURDOCK, WAS FOUND, ALIVE, IN THE ARMS OF MR. OMI, WHO HAD BEEN CARRYING HER DOWN THE STAIRS WHEN THE BUILDING COLLAPSED. A LIFE SAVED � BUT AT THE COST OF HIS OWN. TRULY, A TRAGIC HERO. SHOT OF PAUL REGARDING THE IMAGE OF DAI ON THE SCREEN. - (PAUL) IT'S LIKE THEY SAY, NO GOOD DEED GOES UNPUNISHED. AND HE'S REALLY CUTE, TOO. POOR DUDE. So Paul and Dai never get a chance to even meet? SHOT OF PAUL AT WRIGLEY FIELD. THE NATIONALS ARE LOSING. PAUL GOES TO THE REFRESHMENT STAND, BUYS A HOT DOG. ON HIS WAY BACK TO HIS SEAT, HE IS APPROACHED BY STEFAN. THEY CHAT. PAUL IS ATTRACTED. And Paul doesn't recognize Stefan either. Stefan, Harry had told me, had apparently been up to some sort of nefarious doings in Chicago with Lucas. Lucas had told Leo he should be `glad I didn't run into you in Chicago' but Leo never knew what that meant. SHOT OF STEFAN AND PAUL AT A FARMHOUSE. SHOT OF PAUL, NAKED AND TIED TO A ST. ANDREW'S CROSS. STEFAN, ALSO NAKED, IS FUCKING HIM. IN THE BACKGROUND ONE CAN SEE A ROW OF MORE THAN A DOZEN SKULLS. SHOT OF BOTH MEN NAKED AND OUTDOORS. STEFAN IS SHOWING PAUL HIS BARBECUE SPIT. WHEN PAUL'S BACK IS TURNED, STEFAN INJECTS PAUL WITH SOMETHING. PAUL COMPLAINS, WOBBLES, AND COLLAPSES. STEFAN PICKS UP HIS BODY AND CARRIES IT TOWARD THE BARBECUE SPIT, WHICH IS NOW SEEN TO HAVE WOOD PILED UNDER IT. I closed my eyes. I didn't want to see the next shot. After several seconds, I opened them again. Too soon. [6. WATCH YOUR STEP] SHOT OF JASPER, DRESSED TO KILL, HEADING OUT. CUT TO HIM ENTERING A GAY BAR. CUT TO HIM LEAVING WITH A LEATHER-DRESSED MAN. CUT TO JASPER NAKED IN THE MAN'S APARTMENT, BLINDFOLDED AND HIS HANDS CUFFED BEHIND HIS BACK. THE MAN PATS JASPER'S ASS LOVINGLY. - (MAN) SUCH A NICE ASS. I'M GOING TO ENJOY FUCKING IT. THERE'S A SPECIAL WAY I LIKE TO FUCK MY GUYS. IT'S AN INCREDIBLE TURN-ON FOR THEM. EVER PLAY WITH AUTO-ASPHYXIA? - (JASPER) NO, AND I DON'T WANT TO. - DON'T WORRY, IT'S PERFECTLY SAFE. I'VE DONE THIS DOZENS OF TIMES. I'M GOING TO FUCK YOU WHILE YOU STAND ON A STOOL WITH A NOOSE AROUND YOUR NECK. YOU'LL FEEL SUPER-EXCITED BY THE TIGHTNESS. BUT DON'T WORRY � I KNOW JUST HOW FAR TO GO AND WHEN TO STOP, AND I'VE GOT A KNIFE RIGHT HERE IN CASE ANYTHING GOES WRONG. - I DON'T KNOW. - RELAX. TAKE A MOMENT TO GET USED TO THE SENSATION AND GET USED TO THE IDEA. I'LL GO MAKE US SOME DRINKS. THIS IS GOING TO BE AN EXTREMELY PLEASURABLE EXPERIENCE FOR YOU. IT WILL REALLY TURN YOU ON, MY SEXY FRIEND. SHOT OF JASPER, WITH A NOOSE AROUND HIS NECK WHICH THE MAN TIES TO AN OVERHEAD FAN. HE STEPS UP ONTO A STOOL. - DON'T YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL. I'M GOING TO GET US SOME DRINKS. NOW, DON'T YOU GO ANYWHERE! - HA, HA. SHOT OF THE MAN IN THE KITCHEN, MAKING DRINKS. SHOT OF JASPER WAITING PATIENTLY IN THE LIVING ROOM. CLOSE-UP OF A TWITCH IN JASPER'S LEG AND HE KNOCKS OVER THE STOOL. CUT TO THE KITCHEN, WHERE THE MAN, LISTENING TO MUSIC ON HIS HEADPHONES, HEARS NOTHING. THE MAN WALKS BACK TO THE LIVING ROOM TO FIND JASPER HANGING. THE MAN RUSHES TO GET THE KNIFE, CUTS HIM DOWN, AND STARTS TO CRY. [7. PILLS] SHOT OF HARRY IN DR. KWON'S OFFICE. DR. KWON APPROACHES HIM. - (DR. KWON) HARRY, YOU ENTERED THE WRONG BILL FOR MRS. SMITH. THAT WAS MR. NADLER'S AMOUNT. - (HARRY) WHAT? OH, JEEZ, I'M SORRY. - HARRY, WHAT'S WRONG? THIS IS THE THIRD MISTAKE YOU'VE MADE THIS WEEK, AND YOU NEVER MAKE MISTAKES. SOMETHING'S OBVIOUSLY BOTHERING YOU. - NO, NOTHING. SORRY, DR. KWON, I'LL DO BETTER. SHOT OF HARRY, ALONE IN HIS APARTMENT, STROKING A CAT AND DRINKING. Well, at least he got a new cat. SHOT OF HARRY ENTERING DR. KWON'S OFFICE. - (DR. KWON) GOOD MORNING, I . . . HARRY, DO I SMELL ALCOHOL? - . . . - IT'S NINE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING. - . . . IRISH COFFEE? - HARRY, THIS IS GETTING SERIOUS. YOU NEED TO SEE A THERAPIST. - NOTHING'S WRONG. NOTHING . . . NOTHING MORE THAN IS ALWAYS WRONG. - YOU NEED TO TALK WITH SOMEONE. BUT I'M NOT THAT PERSON, AND NOW IS NOT THE TIME. - RIGHT. SHOT OF HARRY, DRINKING ALONE. SHOT OF HARRY IN DR. KWON'S OFFICE. - (DR. KWON) LISTEN, IF YOU WON'T SEE A THERAPIST, AT LEAST GO TO A.A. THERE ARE GROUPS FOR GAY MEN, YOU MIGHT FEEL COMFORTABLE THERE. - GAY MEN? AM I A GAY MAN, DR. KWON? DOESN'T GAY MEAN HAPPY? - OH HARRY. SHOT OF HARRY WITH A LARGE GLASS OF WHISKEY. A BOTTLE OF PILLS IS NEXT TO IT. HARRY OPENS THE BOTTLE, POURS THEIR CONTENTS ONTO THE TABLE, PUTS A PILL IN HIS MOUTH, AND WASHES IT DOWN WITH THE WHISKEY. HE REPEATS THE ACT, AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN. SHOT OF A SINGLE PILL NEXT TO THE EMPTY GLASS OF WHISKEY. HARRY'S HEAD IS ON THE TABLE. [8. SEVENTY-NINE PEOPLE IN NEW YORK CITY] Seventy-nine people? As if Harry and Paul and Dai and Jasper and Piers and Al and Gary weren't enough, I have to watch seventy-nine people expire? I don't even know anyone in New York City, other than Jasper, who's already on the casualty list of this dreadful little drama. What the fuck was this about? And then I saw the first image. It was me. In my apartment. In my exact own apartment. Everything was in place, exactly the right place. Like they had a picture of it. Until now, I had assumed all of the locations were imaginary, other than Wrigley Field. Generic doctor's office, generic apartments, generic bars, generic farmhouse, generic jails. But this was my actual apartment. Complete with the view that came with the windows. A Christmas tree in the usual spot, lit up. And a boyfriend who looked like he had moved in with me. - (ABE) GOD, WHAT A WONDERFUL YEAR THIS HAS BEEN. A wonderful year? Sean, wasn't this ruining your theme? Or is this to make me feel guilty? Everyone else has a terrible year, even a deadly one, and Abe and I are the epitome of quasi-marital bliss? - YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD TOP IT OFF? - (ABE) WHAT? - SOMETHING I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO DO. BE IN TIMES SQUARE WHEN THE BALL DROPS. Uh-oh. SHOT OF ME AND ABE IN TIMES SQUARE. Abe is wearing that red and yellow-striped shirt that I hate, but I don't seem to mind. We're having a grand time. It's a good hour before the ball drops, but there is genuine merriment everywhere, music blaring, people making dance movements as best as they can, given how pressed together they are. A sense of dread is coming over me. Seventy-nine people in New York City. - (ABE) I'M GOING TO FIND A PORT-A-POTTY. - I'M NOT SURE THERE ARE ANY. - THERE HAVE TO BE. SHOT OF ABE MOVING AWAY FROM ME. I'M FOLLOWING, BUT WE GET SEPARATED, AND IN THE MASS OF PEOPLE, I CAN'T SEE WHERE HE IS. AND THEN THERE'S THE WORLD'S LOUDEST EXPLOSION. PLATFORMS AND PARTS OF BUILDINGS GO FLYING THROUGH THE AIR. AND PARTS OF BODIES. AN ARM, FLYING THROUGH THE AIR, HITS ME IN THE CHEST. IT'S COVERED IN A RED-AND-YELLOW STRIPED SLEEVE. The film came to a sudden end. - (Hamish) And that, Herrick, is the answer to the question `What if you don't?' I looked around. The guys standing against the wall were clearly shaken. It was a truly terrifying picture of the upcoming year, made credible by Sean's assertions of what had happened this past year. I pondered everything I had seen. I pondered everything Sean had told me. And, as I had realized when presented with my final, impossible, task, there was only one thing I could say: - Bullshit. I looked carefully for Sean's reaction. Was it my imagination, or was there a hint of a smile? Was he secretly pleased at my rejection of the video? Or was it one of those indulgent, `oh, you poor fool' smiles of the truly arrogant? Hamish's reaction, however, was unambiguous. - Are you insane? Have we not proven to you our powers of prediction? - No, Hamish, you haven't. - We just showed you several things we knew that we couldn't have known. - So what was so hard about finding out the impressive things you told me? Leo flunking out of Georgia Tech? A phone call to the registrar. Paul's mother changing jobs � you can hack employment records; I must say it was a nice trick to `get it wrong' by saying she changed to another company. Harry's cat � well, that one mystifies me, but maybe he mentioned it to a neighbor � - (Harry) Well, yes, I told Mrs. Shephard, but I thought you meant here on the island. - Stimulever has resources to interview neighbors. And as for Ram"n and the glasses, how do I know who might have observed that interaction? Maybe Sean was tailing me, I just never noticed him. Maybe it was Jason � what's his name, Paolo? Or one of your other pals in Switzerland. They all know what I look like, and I have no idea what they look like. Maybe Ram"n himself was one of you. So your so-called proof of your so-called simulations' ability to predict the so-called future is not proof at all. I looked over at the wall. My comments were giving them hope, and creating anxiety. If I was right, what we had just seen was NOT their future, and they could go back to Alphaworld and pick up where they left off. But if I was wrong, then The Project was their only path to avoiding those horrendous fates. I had called Stimulever out. I had pronounced it bullshit. I was not done doing so. - As for what you just showed us � to intimidate all of us, to force me into agreeing to further your self-promoting Project. It's ridiculous. Do you expect me to believe that Paul would happen to go into Chicago and happen to watch a report of Dai's death and then happen to run into Stefan � and this was all predicted A YEAR AGO? No. That was rigged. Paul and Dai met and fell in love in Betaworld � and, as you told me yourself, the simulation had no idea of events going on in Betaworld. Jordan's sister living in the same building with Dai? Absurd. Miles happening to vacation in Santo Domingo and meeting up with Barry? Preposterous. And you included Al and Piers and Theo and Stan. Why? You never cared about the left-siders. You made up stuff about them after you learned they were important to some of us. And � for the record � I hate crowds, and I would never suggest we go to Times Square for New Year's Eve. The red-and-yellow shirt, nice touch, but this whole thing was manufactured out of thin air and you know it. - (Harry) I don't drink. I can't imagine I'd start now � I'm used to life being miserable. Listen to Seth, everyone. He's making sense. Ironic, to use logic in a world where nothing is logical, but even a different universe has to make sense within its own rules. The unexplainable has an explanation. The thing about this universe is � THEY CREATED IT from scratch, all the absurdities, all the crazy dodecagons and stuff appearing and disappearing. Just like they created this video. It's a creation. It's fiction. This island is fiction, too � in Alphaworld. And that's where I want to go: Alphaworld. I looked again at the others standing against the wall. I saw a growing sense of hope. Paul and Dai grasped each other's hands. Vic and Miles smiled at each other. Others' reactions were more varied, but in general it was more optimistic than it had been five minutes ago. And Sean . . . Sean actually winked at me. I think he was telling me I'd made the right move. Unless, of course, it was just one more aspect of his con job. Meanwhile, Hamish had been texting furiously. Sean kept an eye on him. I looked at the clock. Twenty minutes to midnight. Meanwhile, the lieutenants had left the room, as had Percy. That seemed ominous. I was not surprised when Jes�s's image soon materialized on the big monitor. He did not look happy. - (Jes�s) I'm told you are somewhat skeptical of our projections of the coming year. - You might say that. - That is very disappointing. We worked many hours on that video. - I'm sure you did. The AI work was very impressive. - Did it occur to you that if we could create Betaworld, that we could also change Alphaworld so that when you went back to it, it would be different? And that Alphaworld 2.0 might very much resemble the events that you just witnessed? - No. Because you would have no incentive to do so. That would take an enormous amount of work � for what? Just to make a dozen people miserable, out of spite? You'd have to have started on that ages ago. No, I don't believe that for a second. You have to give me something better than that, Jes�s. - You need more incentive. Very well. Hamish, bring them in. And here came the lieutenants returning to the room, each carrying a wooden cube, painted black, identical to the one that dominated the space in front of me, on which I was to behead the love of my life. They deposited them in two rows, six feet apart, across the front of the room, between myself and Jes�s. I did the math � there were thirteen cubes, thirteen lieutenants, and thirteen naked men against the wall. Before I knew it those thirteen naked men were forced down onto their knees, one in front of each chopping block. And Hamish produced an axe, which he handed to Stefan. I looked at the clock. Fourteen minutes to midnight. Which sounded like the title of a spy novel. One of those where you didn't know who to trust. Like I didn't. And then Percy reappeared, with Abe. He led him up to the block in front of me, and forced him down. Two lieutenants grabbed Abe's hair and pulled his head down so that it lay on the block. - (Jes�s) It is now thirteen minutes to midnight. The launch window begins in one minute. Which means it is safe for me to reveal the name of the Stimulever board member who will reign over Lesboworld. Lesboworld? What the fuck was he talking about? THE WHITE ROOM � SEAN - (Jes�s) I'm sorry, Dion, it's you. Behind Jes�s, there was a cry of anguished protest from Dion. I knew Dion. That was not a genuine reaction. He was faking shock. Jes�s had already told him the truth. Time for me to speak more truth. - You and I know that's a lie, Jes�s. It's me. I know it's me, I've known it for over two months, and I'm not telling you how I know. I turned to Seth. It was time to play the only card I had to play. - Seth, Jes�s is lying. He lied about Dion and Lesboworld. - What the fuck is Lesboworld? - It's one of the universes. No men, all lesbians. I lost a lottery to determine who'd be in charge of it. They lied to me to get me to support them. - So that's why you want to destroy The Project? So you didn't get stuck with an all-female planet? - It's one of the reasons. But Seth, the point is, Jes�s is a liar. They all are. And they lied about something else, something vital. . . . Abe does not have an Alpha-life. - (Seth) What? - ABE DOES NOT HAVE AN ALPHA-LIFE. - (Jes�s) Herrick, that's not true. - (Percy) Of course my pussycat has an Alpha-life, doesn't he, Hame? - (Hamish) Yes. - You want to believe him, Seth? You want to believe Hamish? Jes�s is the one who's lying. You can either believe Stimulever's corporate lies, or believe the one person who loves you enough to give you the one thing you want most in the world. If Abe is decapitated, he will die, pure and simple. That's it � caput! If you keep him alive, he goes back to Alphaworld with you, you'll be together � and not in that ridiculous version of Alphaworld they showed you tonight, you saw through that quickly enough. You saw how they lied to you. They're lying to you now. - (Seth) Sean � - Seth. You know I love you. You know I would do anything for you. This is the most important event in the history of the world, I couldn't lie to you now. Cut off Abe's head and he's dead. Here, there, everywhere. Spare him and the world goes back to what it was. Abe's alive, you're alive, Alphaworld is the same recognizable place it always was. - (Jes�s) But before that happens you'll watch Hamish's lieutenants remove the heads of every other person in this room that you care about. I'm not bluffing. And they don't have Alpha-lives either. You'll be responsible for their deaths. You'll commit murder a dozen times over. THE WHITE ROOM � SETH It was seven minutes to midnight. The moment had arrived. This was the most consequential decision I would make in my entire life. And I wasn't even sure what the consequences were. Would Jes�s carry out his threats? Could I trust his word? He had lied before, but then he wasn't the only liar in the room, was he? If I acted, it would alter the course of the world � unless it wouldn't. Maybe this thing would be a colossal failure. And then my actions would be merely tragic. They could cost me . . . everything. But if I did not act, there would be other dire consequences � if I could believe him. Immediate ones � and future ones. To act, or not to act? Hamlet, I totally get you. Hamish faced me, awaiting my decision. Jes�s, on the monitor, peered at me intensely. I took a deep breath, and spoke. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER FIFTY: THE DECISION.]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-24a	Date: Fri, 29 Mar 2024 17:12:52 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 24(a) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER 24: MOVIN' ON UP? Previously: * Leo recruits Al, Theo, Piers, Stan, Paul and Dai to join his escape plan, made easier when Ian gives him the code to the room Percy uses to exit to the surface. Leo is unaware that the code works only on odd-numbered days; Ian has advised Stan not to join the plot. * Stan is slated for castration on the 11th, but Hamish threatens to substitute Ian if Ian does not provide tangible proof of his loyalty. * Jordan and Miles's arrival on the island prompts a reconsideration of `the physics'; consultants determine that one of `The Twelve' must now be sacrificed, and that the choice of victim should be entrusted to the Twelve themselves; the Board recommends that Lucas be allowed to decide. * * * * * * * * MONDAY, DECEMBER 10 * * * * * * * * [Author's Note: Events in this chapter, while concurrent with those of the previous chapter, take place entirely underground. This chapter contains a development some readers may find unsettling, a by-product of the ancient myth which inspired this story; the linkage will be explained at the story's conclusion. Bear in mind this statement from my introduction to Chapter One: "As in any adventure story worth its salt, danger is an element and occasional casualties may be incurred. When they are, it is purely to advance the plot and heighten suspense."] THE DORMITORY - DAI - Paul, are you with me? We've got to do this. - Dai, it's dangerous! - Staying here is dangerous. You know they're castrating left-siders? - . . . They are? - They are. And the next day they disappear. Rumor has it they're . . . disposed of. - Disposed of? You mean - ? - Yeah. - . . . Oh. - Oh, indeed. - Do we know that for sure? Maybe they're up with Seth and the others. - If so, it's without their balls. That's why four left-siders have joined Leo. We should too, Paul. - I'm scared, Dai. But I don't want to lose you. Count me in for now. I'll let you know if I change my mind. Please, Paul, come with me. I want you, and I want to escape. Both. THE DORMITORY � PAUL Dai was so set on trying to escape. Leo said there was a room from which you could get to the surface. You needed a code to enter the room, but Leo claimed to have it. But I didn't like putting my fate in the hands of Leo. And I wasn't convinced by Dai's argument that they couldn't do much to us that they hadn't done already. I figure there's a lot they could do. I've seen Game of Thrones. We didn't have much contact with left-siders, but I knew who they were. I sought out the one named Stan, who didn't seem to know me. - Remind me, you're . . . - Paul. - Paul, yes. One of the ones Leo � - That's what I wanted to talk to you about. - Are you doing it? - Why are YOU doing it, Stan? - I'm not. - Leo said you were. - I changed my mind. - (whoa, that was a surprise) Why? Dai � my friend � wants to do it. I think it's dangerous. But I don't want him to go without me. - Tell him not to. - Why? - I . . . just tell him not to. - Because? - Listen, I can't really talk about it. - You know something. - . . . I know it's a bad idea. - Leo has a code. As long as no one sees us � - Paul. Talk Dai out of it. The code won't work. That's all I can say. I had to convince Dai not to do it. I headed back to the dormitory to - - And where do you think YOU'RE going? Stefan. Shit. - Has anybody fucked you yet today, Paul? I know I haven't, and neither has Lucas. It's time for a little double-stuffing, I think. Two cocks in your ass, and then two cocks in your mouth, then one in each end, and then we'll trade places. How does that sound? It sounded like I was going to be busy for a while. I just hoped that when it was over I still had time to warn Dai. THE THRONE ROOM � IAN - Ian, if you're here to plea for Kowalczyk, it's no use. His balls go tomorrow. Or yours. - Hamish, that's not why I'm here. - Are you here with proof of your loyalty? - Yes, actually, I am. - I am astonished. Go ahead. Impress me. - There will be an escape attempt today. - An escape attempt. You know this because? - Because they tried to recruit Stan. He refused, and told me about it so that you could stop it. That is, he told me because he wanted me to escape with him. But why quibble over details? - Why did he want to stop it? - He thought it had little chance of success, and would only make things worse. - Well, he's right about that. Just how do they intend to escape? No one's ever managed it before. - They know how Percy goes to the surface. He enters a code into the keypad for a room on the Sex Wing. Then he slides up a pole to the surface. - . . . How do YOU know this? - I witnessed it. Unfortunately, someone else did, too. And he launched an escape plot. - How do they think they're going to get in there? They don't have the code. - I'll tell you their plan. Here's the price: Stan's safety � and mine. - Another Twelve is due tomorrow. I have to take a pair of balls or we'll be out of balance. - So take them. Just not Stan's. Or mine. - . . . Okay. Deal. - Really? - Really. But if you've spun me a yarn, I'll neuter you both with a dull knife. - Understood. Okay, here's the story � they think they know the code. I gave them yesterday's code, which they saw work � yesterday � so they're confident. But they don't realize it won't work today. - Cute, Ian. Who's involved in this pathetic little plot? - I'm not telling you, because some of them might back out and shouldn't be punished if they do. But show up at 1:30 and you'll catch them red-handed. And if you need to take a pair of balls tomorrow, you'll have some left-siders to choose from. - The conspirators are left-siders? - Left-siders and Twelves, both. - Very well, Ian. Kowalczyk will be spared � as will you. PROVIDED that your information pans out. - It will. I hope. THE DORMITORY � LEO It was time. We were in our window of opportunity, twelve-thirty to two, it was the perfect moment to slip unsupervised into the Sex Wing and slide up the pole to the surface. I had to hope the tower would be visible from wherever we emerged. If we could reach the tower before they caught us, we should be safe � Seth and the others would protect us. I didn't look forward to a reunion with my father. He would excoriate me for leaving the group, supposedly for a call of nature, when in fact I was responding to the siren call of the amber dodecagon. Okay, I'll take the shit from the self-righteous Sir Edward, eat humble pie in front of Seth and Harry, apologize to Jasper and Vic and Cody for lying to them when I wandered off. Just get me the fuck out of here. Running into Ian yesterday was a godsend. I was nervous about our ability to force the code from Percy � we'd have to go pretty far to scare him that badly. Now we won't have to. I hadn't trusted Ian until he showed me that the code worked. But it did. I guess life here isn't so great for lieutenants either. I don't have the world's best memory, so I wanted a back-up. I couldn't count on Ian showing up, so I told him to give the code to Dai. Asians are smart; Dai would remember it. I'd told Ian 1:30 but I still didn't trust him entirely, so I moved it up to 1:15. An extra margin of safety. With the code in Dai's brain, who needed Ian anymore? If he missed out, it was no skin off my back. THEO'S CELL � PIERS - Ready, Theo? - As ready as I can be. Piers, I hope we're doing the right thing. - We're doing the right thing. Look, they castrated Yiannis, and Curtis, and that red-headed guy whose name we never even learned. Stan says once you're a eunuch, the next day you're dead. And someone's to be cut tomorrow. - I heard. Doesn't mean it's either of us, but still � - Doesn't mean it's NOT either of us. Our ranks keep getting smaller, Theo � if we don't get out of here, it WILL be one of us. It will be BOTH of us. - I know, Pyramus. I'm nervous, but I'm going. - Deep breath, Thisbe. Pick up Al and Stan on the way? AL'S CELL � AL - Stan's not coming. - What? I thought he was your friend. - He IS my friend, Piers. But he backed out. He's scared. - Of course he is. I'm scared. Theo's scared. Leo's scared. I imagine Paul and Dai are scared. But it's now or never. - Yeah. Okay. Let's go. THE DORMITORY � DAI I didn't know where Paul was. a lieutenant had grabbed him for his personal gratification, but Paul should have been back in the dormitory by now. It was nearly 1:15. I couldn't wait any longer. When last I spoke to him, he said he was in. He knew where to go; I had to assume he would meet me there. The worst thing would be if he showed up and I wasn't there. Heart pounding. Paul � be there! THE THRONE ROOM � ABE My ankles were in leather restraints. The restraints were connected to a foot spreader, forcing my ankles nearly a yard apart. My wrists were also in leather restraints, chained to the ankle restraints, both connected to long chains suspended from the ceiling. As a result, I was suspended in mid-air, legs splayed and asshole exposed. Percy had encased my head in a hood and I could see nothing. My hole was slathered with lubricant and probed with an invading finger, readying me for the inevitable invading cock. This was one of Percy's favorite positions, fucking me while I was hanging in mid-air. The stress on my wrists and ankles was nearly unbearable, but as he had put me in this position almost every day, I was slowly getting used to it and adapting. I felt myself lowered by a couple of feet. This confused me. My ass would now be only about a foot above the floor; Percy always drilled me while standing. - (Hamish) Go ahead, boy. You've been a good doggie, you deserve a reward. Barry! I was stunned. Barry � Flight 12's pilot who had been relegated to the role of Hamish's personal pet and cumdump � was being granted access to my ass? I rarely saw Barry on two legs, so it made sense that I was being lowered to his level. I felt him grab my thighs as he scooched closer to me, apparently `walking' on his knees. Aaaagh. In it went. He was thicker than Percy, and its thickness startled me. Barry made no thrusting motion � he pulled me back toward him, rocking me back and forth like a pendulum onto his dick, which equaled Percy's in length while surpassing it in girth. The feel of his cock against my prostate and the rhythmic intensity with which he pummeled my innards sent me into a d�ja-vu moment. It felt like Sean's cock up my ass. Sean, with whom I had cheated on Seth. Why had I done that? I loved Seth � didn't I? I never loved Sean. Yet I had seen him for months behind Seth's back. The feel of Barry's cock � so like Sean's � as he fucked me sent shudders of guilt coursing through my body. They were both great fuckers � but so was Seth. I think it was my fear of commitment. I wanted to settle down � and yet I didn't. Being with just one man was too terrifying to me. I had to hedge my bets. - (Hamish) Go on boy, plow the shit out of him. Good boy, good boy. Make him your bitch. Yeah, the double-entendre worked. Barry was a dog, and I was his bitch. The vigor with which he plowed into me was thrilling and I almost wished he was my master instead of Percy. But the next time I heard Hamish, he didn't sound pleased. - Seriously? You come barging in while I'm watching Barry mount this bitch? It better be important. - (unidentified voice) I'm sorry, sir, but it IS important. - Yes? Barry, pull out. I can't listen to this with you distracting me like that. I felt Barry's long cock withdraw from my anus � to my regret. - Sir, we captured one of the intruders. Intruders? - Really? Which one? - King, sir. He wandered into a penis portal. - How did that happen? Clothing is supposed to make them immune from capture. - He wasn't wearing clothing, sir. - He was naked? - Apparently he had just had a sexual encounter with one of the Twelve. Victor Torrance. - Where is he now? - We stored him in Sex Room D. I'll take you to him. - Perce, let's go. Barry, you come, too. You can walk on two legs. I heard them leave the room while I hung there, suspended. Hoping they wouldn't be gone long. My arms and hamstrings were aching. STAN'S CELL � IAN I stopped by my room to check on Stan. - I couldn't persuade them, Ian. I think I got through to Paul � he's going to stop Dai � but not the others. Al came by two minutes ago, hoping I'd still go with them. I said no. He left with Piers and Theo. I wished them luck, what else could I do? - Wait � they left? Already? - Al said they'd moved it up to 1:15. - Shit. I told Hamish 1:30. Don't move. THE DORMITORY � PAUL Dammit, Dai was not in the dormitory. He must have gone with Leo. I had to stop him. OUTSIDE THE EGRESS ROOM � LEO One three eight. Five seven zero. Damn, what was next? One three eight. Five seven zero. After zero was . . . three? I couldn't remember. Thank god I had Dai as a back-up. Only he wasn't here yet. I should have had a second back-up. But who could I trust to remember it and show up? Al was a dumb grocery clerk. The two Blacks from the Bahamas � I don't think so. Paul I didn't trust. Stan was smart, but I wasn't sure he'd show up. Ian knew the code, and he MIGHT show up, but I'd told him 1:30, so he wouldn't come for fifteen minutes. Hell, I wasn't sure anyone was showing up. To my relief, I saw Al, Theo and Piers rounding into the corridor. Thankfully, being nude � and therefore in bare feet � meant walking could be done quietly. I waved, finger to my lips, and motioned them down the hallway to the door with a keypad. - (Al, whispering) Stan's not coming. - Dai and Paul? - (Al) So far as we know. - We need Dai. He has the code. I heard something down the hall. I looked up: Dai, in something between a walk and a run. Whew! - Dai, the code. One three eight. Five seven zero. What's next � three? - (Dai) Nine. Nine one two three five four. - Yeah, yeah, that's right. I remember now. - (Dai) But wait � Paul's not here. - That's his problem. - (Dai) We can't leave without him! Can't you just hold up for a couple of minutes? - I've already started the code. If I stop, it might time out. Nine one two three five four, right? - (Dai) Yeah. But � - Shh. Nine one two. - Wait! Three. Five. One number left. I lifted my finger toward the four. OUTSIDE THE EGRESS ROOM � DAI Not without Paul! I reached to grab his hand before he could enter the last digit, four. I failed. Leo had completed the code. And nothing happened. - (Leo) What the fuck? It's supposed to open! I saw it open. It works. - (Al) Maybe you entered it wrong. - (Piers) You were nervous, Leo. You might have hit a wrong button. - (Leo) I told you I wasn't good at numbers. - (Al) Dai, you try it. - I will � when Paul gets here. Just then I heard footsteps � rapid, soft footsteps. Like someone running in bare feet. It was Paul. Thank God � now we can both get out of here! - Paul, you made it! - (Paul) Don't enter that code. It won't work. - (Leo) I SAW it work. Dai, you press the buttons. - (Paul) Dai, don't. - Paul, it'll be fine. Stop fussing. We've got to leave � NOW. - (Leo) One three eight five seven zero. - Yes, I know. (pressing buttons) One three eight five seven zero. - (Paul) Dai, don't. - (Leo) Nine one two three five four. - (Paul) DON'T! I stopped. Something in his voice convinced me that he was acting on more than fear � he KNEW something. And then I heard more footsteps. These were made by shoes. THE CORRIDOR NEAR THE EGRESS ROOM � PERCY Ian had told Hamish 1:30; we wanted to catch them in the act, so we didn't want to show up early. But then the news came about Miles King and we headed off to the Sex Wing to check it out � and there they were. All huddled around the Egress Room, trying to enter in the code Ian had given them � the code that only worked on odd-numbered days. The Japanese boy � Omi � was pushing buttons. Two other Twelves were with him � Eton and young Niemann, along with three left-siders: Casey, and (it broke my heart) my sexy Bahamians. Kowalczyk was not present, just as Ian had said. The interrogation of Miles King would have to wait. First we had to interrogate those in the hallway. OUTSIDE THE EGRESS ROOM � DAI - (Hamish) So you actually thought you could escape? Fools. No one escapes. Ever. You'll have to be punished. (to me) Are you the leader of this little rebellion? - What? Me? No. - Then who is? Oh, fuck. I didn't want to rat on Leo. On the other hand, neither did I want to take the rap. And MY fingers were on the keypad when they arrived. I hesitated. And then I was rescued. - (Paul) He is. Leo. He's the leader. - (Leo) The hell I am. Didn't you see who was entering the code? I didn't want to do it, Dai pressured me into coming. - (Paul) You fucking liar! - (Leo) You're the liar, Paul. Of course you want to protect your boyfriend. Go ahead, blame me, I'm easy to blame, I'm the rich kid, son of a British knight � sure, blame Leo for all your troubles, when it was your boyfriend who started this. - (Hamish) You! Casey. Who's the leader? - (Al) I � I'd rather stay out of this if you don't � - (Hamish) You're not out of this. You're dead in the middle of this. You have two options � answer my questions or I turn you over to the Trio and tell them to go as far as they like � and beyond. - (Al) Well, it was Leo who asked me to join. - (Leo) Of course it was. Dai made me his messenger. But it was his idea. I don't even know the code. He made me recruit the others. You know those Asians � they're manipulative. - (Paul) You fucking, fucking liar! - (Hamish, slapping Paul hard) ENOUGH! (to Piers) What say you? - (Piers) I thought it was Leo's idea, but � I don't know, it could have been Dai's, I guess. - (Hamish, to Theo) What say you? - (Theo) Well, like they said, Leo asked us. But Dai was the one with the code. Leo didn't know it. - (Hamish, to Al, Theo and Piers) All right, here's what we're going to do with you three. Two of you are going into permanent bondage � you'll be restrained twenty-four hours a day. The third will be castrated tomorrow and executed the following day. - (Percy) Which one, dear? - (Hamish) You decide. - (Percy) Well, I wouldn't want to lose my charming two Bahamians. They're so pretty, even though only one of them is gay. So let's take the balls of this little one here. Casey. - (Al) No! - (Hamish) Shut up or we'll take your cock, too. He then turned to those of us from the right side of the plane. - As for you three, you're coming back to my quarters. We have a decision to make about you as well. Atticus � fetch Heidekker. We may want to involve him in this process. Heidekker? Why would Lucas be involved in any decision about us? If he was � that wouldn't be good for Paul. THE THRONE ROOM � PERCY We gathered in The Throne Room: Hamish, myself, several lieutenants, the three insurrectionists, and Heidekker, plus Barry and Abe, currently kneeling between the legs of Hamish and myself, respectively. Hamish liked to have his cock sucked while making a decision, and I liked having mine sucked at any time. Hamish had naturally alerted Switzerland; even though it was the middle of the evening over there, Jes�s was attentive. Yesterday they had informed us that King and Murdock's presence on the island had altered the physics and that we would have to sacrifice one of the Twelve. This news had, of course, stunned us, as the plan all along was for all Twelve to be intact at the moment of launch. But now it appeared that one of them would miss that opportunity. Unlike the left-siders, the Twelve existed only within Betaworld. Were they to expire here, there would be no version of them left alive to either revert to their Alpha-existence or continue on to Alphaworld's replacement. Terminating a Twelve was permanent, a real death. Thus, not something to be taken lightly. The most surprising thing about the edict from St. Moritz was the recommendation that the choice not be made by Hamish � or even myself � but by one of the Twelve. Of course, the obvious choice to make that decision was Heidekker � both because of his reliable service as a sadistic top and because he alone had not been part of the escape. Hamish addressed the petrified prisoners: - We are gathered here to determine your fate. Of course, you will all be fucked for several hours. We are each capable of several more orgasms today, and they will take place in your asses prior to the execution of your sentences. I use that word deliberately � one of your sentences will, indeed, be execution. There was a gasp from the three defendants. Heidekker broke into a sly grin. - One of you � only one. That is our instruction. Logic would suggest that it be the ringleader of this pitiful escapade, but there is no consensus as to whether that is Niemann or Omi. That being the case, there is an argument for choosing neither one of you and letting the axe fall upon Eton. Eton hadn't been expecting that. But he was worried about it being Omi. He wanted to protest Omi's innocence, that was obvious � he had done so in the corridor � but, a giant penis gag having been rammed into his mouth, no protest or argument was possible. - The recommendation from my boss � yes, I have a boss, as omnipotent as I may seem to you � is that the choice be made by one of the Twelve. As three of you are guilty of the crime of attempted escape, and the fourth has served me faithfully, it seems only fair to let him decide. I saw panic overtake Omi and Eton, and � did Niemann look relieved? But then Heidekker peered deeply into his eyes, and his facial muscles tensed. `No, I'm not safe', I could see Niemann thinking. - (Heidekker) Sir, may I ask a question? - (Hamish) What an absurd thing to say. You just have. Go ahead. - The victim � can I do it? - You want to execute him yourself? - It would give me great pleasure, sir. - No. Sorry. I cannot allow that. - Can I watch? - . . . You may watch. - Can I fuck him first? - Yes. After everyone else has had his turn. - Then, I've made my decision. - Yes? He was clearly enjoying the drama of the moment, like the detective in a drawing-room mystery pausing before revealing the identity of the murderer. His gaze passed from Omi to Eton to Niemann, and then back down the line, his face inscrutable. I had absolutely no idea which of them he was going to choose. - I choose Paul. Omi collapsed. THE THRONE ROOM � PAUL I hadn't expected my life to end like this. I knew that trying to escape was dangerous � and dammit, I had tried to prevent it! Of the three of us, I was the only one who wasn't trying to escape. But Lucas � Lucas chose me just because he wanted to enjoy fucking me and watching me die. How can any man live with himself after choosing for someone else to die? Hamish stepped down from his seat � call it a throne if you will � and walked in front of me. He motioned to one of the lieutenants to remove the penis gag from my mouth. - Just because I'm removing this doesn't mean you can speak, boy. Nod if you understand that. - (nodding; I understand) - You understand that Lucas has just chosen you. - (Yes, he made that plenty obvious.) - He's decided you should be the one to die. - (tears forming in my eyes � you don't have to keep saying that, dammit) - But that's not what he has chosen you for. - (wait a minute � huh?) - You're not going to die. Unless you want to. - (I don't want to die. Please. I don't want to die.) - But here's what you ARE going to do. You're going to choose who does. - (WHAT?!) - The responsibility of life and death has been put upon your shoulders. For Heidekker it was an easy choice. He wanted to fuck you and watch you suffer. You're not like that. You don't enjoy watching people suffer. That's why this is your punishment. You're going to have to choose. - (I can't even nod my head.) - You understand? - (Yes.) - You have to choose. Which of your fellow captives should we execute? I looked him in the eye. I didn't think he was going to accept my answer, but I had to try. - Lu- - Not Heidekker. Omi or Niemann � one of them. Which? O god, this was indeed punishment. I couldn't possibly choose Dai, he knows that, everybody in the room probably knows that. And yet I don't want to say a word. - Name one of them or I kill them both. I want to hear a name. I took a deep breath, and rasped out the name. - Leo. God forgive me. They fucked me for three hours but I was not tortured. When I returned to the dormitory, I was alone. Dai had been in a different room; I wondered what was happening to him. And Lucas wasn't there either; who knew what nefarious activities he was up to. There is a person missing from that paragraph. A person who wasn't coming back to the dormitory. A person I had condemned to death. Hamish was right. This was true punishment. I lay alone in the dormitory half-wishing that Lucas had gotten his wish and that I was the one that . . . and not Leo. I tried, unsuccessfully, to console myself with two thoughts: The first thought was how unjust it was: I had tried to stop the escape, not aid it. But maybe I deserved to be punished � for the entirety of my existence. For allowing Anthony to manipulate me all through high school. For being weak and timid and allowing myself to be used even by the guys I met at bars, rather than standing up for myself and saying `you're not good enough for me'. For being a wimp my whole life. The second thought was that my death would have devastated Dai. But would it? For how long? Dai was exactly the kind of guy I should have found back in Richmond, a real, genuine person. But I've known him for exactly ten days. Ten days. That was long enough for me to fall in love with him � and, I think, for him to fall in love with me. But a ten-day romance was far from a long-term relationship. He would get over my death and move on. Dai returned hours later � or perhaps I should say `WAS returned'. Lucas and Stefan carried him in. He had casts on both arms and legs and his chest was full of stripes as if he had been whipped and it had drawn blood. I couldn't see his back side, but I was certain it was brutal. He was conscious, but barely. - (Stefan, grinning) We gave him a pretty good workout. You we went easy on. - (Lucas) Unfortunately. - (Stefan) We had other things to do. The left-siders, to be precise. Stefan had also omitted a name. A critical name. If they had done THIS to DAI . . . - (Lucas) You're wondering about our roommate, aren't you? Well, they didn't do him the way I would have. It was quick. He didn't suffer. - (Stefan) Not during the execution. - (Lucas) Well, yeah, before then he did, just a little. We � - Please! No details! - (Lucas) Ah, you're like the three monkeys. See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil? Well, my friend, face it: there is evil in the world. I knew that, and I was looking at it. - (Lucas) In exchange for our sparing you the details, you have to do us a little favor. - (Stefan) We each have at least one load left inside us. And Dai here isn't in shape to take it. - (Lucas) On your stomach, boy. * * * * * * * * TUESDAY, DECEMBER 11 * * * * * * * * THE DORMITORY � DAI I'm not going to tell Paul what they did to me. He could guess, by looking at the casts on all four limbs, that bones were broken. I won't go further than that. They injected me with some kind of pain-killer so that I could sleep � I guess that was an act of kindness on their part. I had heard Lucas and Stefan taunt Paul and then fuck him. I drifted off while that was going on, so I didn't have to deal with Paul's questions. I'm not sure he would have wanted to know what they did to me any more than he wanted to know what happened to Leo. Knowing Paul, he would have waited until I brought up the subject. Which I probably never would. When I woke up this morning the casts were gone, my bones were healed, and my ass � which I wasn't sure had any skin left on it � was unblemished. I felt perfectly fine. Given the way that my bruises and stripes had healed in days past, I was hoping that might be the case, but impact marks are different from broken bones. This place was, indeed, magical � which was a double-edged sword: Whatever they did to me, I could recover from. Which meant they could torture me as much as they liked, setting me up for more brutality the very next day. Like Bill Murray in the worst remake of `Groundhog Day' ever. I looked over at the other beds. There was Lucas, in bed with Paul. But when I looked closely, I was shocked: My casts were not the only thing that had vanished overnight � so had Paul's jockstrap. Perhaps his reward for the unjustifiable task of naming a person to be killed was to finally be freed from that jockstrap. He was now as fully nude as the rest of us. He will be so overjoyed when he wakes up. THE CAFETERIA � PAUL I was thrilled to see Dai uninjured, even more than I was to see myself finally freed of the jockstrap I had been imprisoned in for over a week. We went to breakfast together, sitting with some of the left-siders and away from Lucas. Al was there, looking desolate but uninjured; Theo and Piers were absent. Hamish had said they would be in some kind of permanent bondage, whatever that meant. It seemed that had already begun. I sat several inches away from Dai � I knew that if our bodies touched, my cock, so long trapped inside that jock, would spring up to full attention. I got hard anyway. Being within two feet of Dai's naked body, there was no way my cock was going to get soft any time soon. Eventually I had to get up, provoking laughter from the left-siders, who probably needed the laugh. Al didn't laugh. It was a painful reminder that soon he wouldn't be able to achieve an erection, assuming that Hamish was true to his word, which all indications were that he was. I didn't know what to say to him, and didn't try. I was approached by a squadron of lieutenants, who ordered me to come with them. Now what? I had thought my punishment was over. We returned to Hamish's abode. - (Hamish) Eton, you have no jockstrap. - Yes, thank you for that. - You need to wear a jockstrap. - (What? No no no no.) Why? - When I tell you something, you do not question why. - I'm sorry, sir. I was, but only because I didn't like what I was hearing. Why had he removed my jockstrap only to scold me for not wearing one? - Fortunately, we have a replacement for you. Better than what you were wearing before. He signaled to one of the lieutenants, who opened the door. In crawled Barry, in full canine mode, a tail protruding from his rectum, which he was apparently required to `wag' by swerving his buttocks left and right. In his mouth, like a retriever, was a tan object, which he dropped at my feet. - This is your new jockstrap. Put it on. I picked it up. I wouldn't characterize it as `better', but it was different, not made of cloth. It was more like a soft leather, some kind of animal skin. And surprisingly comfortable. - It is, as you can see, not made of fabric. It is made from an animal hide. It is lion skin. Lion skin? There are lions on this island? Hamish studied my reaction, correctly interpreting my question. - You are wondering how we got lion skin? It's simple. `Leo' means `lion', doesn't it? [COMING UP: CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE � HEADIN' ON DOWN?]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-23	Date: Tue, 26 Mar 2024 20:40:13 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 23 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER 23: REUNION BLUES [Author's Note: Chapters 23 and 24 both cover events on the same day; for reasons of continuity, this chapter will take place entirely above ground while the next chapter will cover events underground.] Previously: * Jordan and Miles arrive; after Augie mistakes him for his fictitious brother `Jeremy', Jordan confesses the truth to Augie about his identity. * On December 1, left-siders (Stan, Al, etc.) were lured into a `penis garden,' anally speared, and delivered underground; recently, Miles and Jordan encountered one without consequences. In flashbacks: * Earlier this year, Sean was involved with Miles, who only became Vic's lover because Sean told him it was important for his mysterious `project'. * Sean (five years ago) was also involved with Seth, then married to Megan with triplet sons. He drugged Seth after some daytime sex, causing him to oversleep and miss picking up his sons from daycare. The daycare reported that the boys were picked up by their `Uncle Herman'. Stimulever had assigned Sean the task of arranging a `tragedy' in Seth's life, a requirement for The Project's `Trigger Man'. * * * * * * * * MONDAY, DECEMBER 10 (a day after the last chapter) * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH - Harry, this is crazy. This alternate universe thing they're talking about makes no sense. - None whatsoever. Which is exactly why it makes sense. - Do I detect a paradox here? - An alternate universe would at least explain all our unexplainables, like how we survived the plane crash, and how the island has rules of its own. - So are we in two places at once? - Jordan seems to think we're only here � what they call Betaworld. He said no one would even remember us in the other world, like we didn't exist. - That's scary. And downright depressing. - I don't know, Seth. Sometimes I think it would be better if no one remembered me. - Harry. - I'm not even sure I'd be missed if anyone did remember me. Here � at least I feel somewhat, well, not useless. - You're far from useless, Harry. I don't know what I'd do without you. - You might find out. My birthday's one week from today. - Oh, no, Harry. You're not disappearing. I'll make damn sure of that. THE PHALLIC TOWER � MILES - (Vic) This alternate universe thing you're talking about makes no sense. - So how do you explain how you got here after your plane broke apart in mid-air? - Well, I'll admit this feels like a different world, all right. You're different. - (Shit.) I'm different? How am I different? - You seem � I don't know, distant. That's because the reason I'm here has nothing to do with you. Time to pretend otherwise. - Vic, I'm sorry. It's just � I've been through so much, getting here � I can't hardly believe it. - We've been through a lot, too. I thought you were just what I needed to give me some sanity. - I'm not sure there's sanity anywhere to be found. - How about in your ass? - (grinning) Absolutely no sanity there. - Maybe I could hunt for some? - Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting? - I'm horny, Miles. This island is so sexy I swear the trees have balls instead of roots. We could fuck in the tower and no one would mind. I'm taking off my shirt. Now you take off yours. - I'll take off more than that, but not here. Let's take a walk. - Deal. We just have to avoid where you saw that teal decawhatzit. That's my danger place. - It was in the woods. If we stick to the meadow, we should be all right. Besides, there's something cool there I want to show you. THE PHALLIC TOWER � AUGIE - Jordan? - Augie. - This alternate universe thing you're talking about makes no sense. - Acknowledged. - But � if it's the truth � if we ARE in some kind of alternate reality . . . maybe I'm not gay here. - Augie, don't you think that's why you ARE here? Everyone on this island seems to be gay. - Ed's not. - MAYBE Ed's not. Maybe he is and he's lying about it. But his son definitely was gay, right? - Don't say `was'. We don't know that Leo's dead. - Right. The earth swallowed him up and he's alive. - Maybe! But if there's two worlds, he's still alive in the other one, right? - Augie, I don't think he exists in the other one. I don't think you or I do, either. - . . . I don't even exist anymore in the real world? Just in this � this whatever-it-is? - I don't know, Augie. But if you exist only here, then you're gay here because . . . because Augie, you're gay. You were gay in Texas and you're gay here. - . . . - . . . - . . . Get away from me. - Augie. - Get away from me! You're no good for me, Jordan. You're mixing me all up. I don't want to be gay and I don't want to be here and I don't even know where I exist and where I don't, and I just want . . . - You just want what? - I want to be alone. - . . . Okay, Garbo. I'll leave you alone. - `Garbo'? Are you calling me garbage? - No, it's a movie quote. Greta Gar � . . . never mind, Augie, I'll leave. You . . . you need time to sort things out, I understand. THE PHALLIC TOWER - SETH - (Harry) They said this guy Sean deliberately brought them here � from Alphaworld to Betaworld. They were in Aruba and, presto change-o, they're in a different Aruba. If you can just switch like that, there must be a way back. - Okay, so he brought Jordan and Miles here. How did he have the power to do that? - Maybe he's the same person who brought us to this universe. - No, I think our coming here was an accident. Something happened on that plane that triggered us getting here. I don't think anyone planned it. - Of course they planned it. The whole thing is planned, Seth. The map, the birthdays, the Chinese calendar thing, the dodecagons matching up with each of us, not to mention that I think we're all gay. No, Seth, we were intended to come here. We were targeted. The question is why Jordan and Miles are here � and why this `Sean' guy dumped them here and then took off. - `Sean'. Why did he have to be named `Sean'? - It's a common enough name. - Of course it is. It's just a name I don't like hearing. - Why? - A guy named Sean nearly ruined my life. Until I met Abe, he did ruin my life. - Want to talk about it? - No, I don't. I really don't, Harry. It's too painful. FLASHBACK � SETH (CLEVELAND) � five years ago - The boys don't have an Uncle Herman, Sean. - Shit. - So who the fuck picked them up? - Call the police. - I will, but . . . after I call Megan. - Don't call Megan, go to her. These things are better done face to face. Call the police first. Before I could, the police called me. The day-care center had called them after I reported that the boys had no `Uncle Herman'. They said they would send an officer over to take my statement. Of course, the police had also called Megan. And when Megan's name popped up on my phone, I panicked. - Sean, what am I going to say to her? That I overslept in the apartment of the man I've been sleeping with? She doesn't know I'm bisexual, Sean. - Are you bisexual? - Duh. I'm with you, I'm with her, that's bisexual. - You're not bisexual, you're gay, Seth. Megan was just an attempt to prove otherwise. Admit it � you way prefer men to women, don't you? - What if I do? What of it? She's still my wife. - And you owe her the truth. - What, NOW? Our boys have been kidnapped! She's frantic with worry. I'm frantic with worry. You want me to tell her I'm gay NOW? - Ah, so you do admit you're gay. - Fuck you! - We already did that, the other way around. - Christ! - Admit it, Seth. I drive you crazy. If you had to give up one of us, wouldn't it be Megan? - No! - No? - . . . I don't know, maybe. But now is not the time. Megan's name popped up on my phone again. I still didn't answer it. - She's got to learn the truth, Seth. It's not fair to lead her on like this. - It's not fair to abandon her when our sons have been kidnapped! - So what ARE you going to say when she asks why you didn't show up? - I . . . shit, I don't know. I had to work late. - You don't work late on Fridays, that's why you pick up the boys on Fridays. She knows that. - Well, today, there was a meeting and � - And you couldn't call her to let her know you couldn't pick up the boys. - FUCK! What am I going to say? - How about the truth? - . . . No. Anything but that. I was in a traffic jam � - And your cell phone wasn't working. - Sean! Why are you being so mean? - For your own damn good. - I need an out. - You need to COME out. - I will. . . . I will. . . .But please give me some time. Megan called a third time. Then a text: WHERE WERE YOU? - So you won't tell her the truth. Keep going down your excuse list. - My battery ran out. No, I lost my phone. - The police were able to reach you. - Shit! - `Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive'. - My sons have been kidnapped and you're quoting Shakespeare at me? - It's not Shakespeare. It's Sir Walter � - Stop jabbering and do something useful! I don't know what to do! - Give me your phone. Against my better judgment, I did. I watched him reply to the text: POLICE HERE NOW. HOME ASAP. TALK THEN. - Talk then? I still don't have a story. - She'll see through any fake story you give, Seth. She'll find out about us anyway. Best to confront it head on. - . . . I don't think I can tell her, Sean. - Then I will. I'll go with you. - That'll only make things worse. - It will give her something to focus her anger on besides you: Me. However bad I thought it would be, it was worse. I'd seen scenes in movies where enraged women threw objects at their men, but I had never imagined that ever happened in real life. She threw them at Sean, too. His presence didn't help, but in retrospect it was going to be brutal whether he was there or not. She literally screamed at me, a piercing shriek I will never forget for the rest of my life. The worst thing was knowing that her accusations were absolutely justified: I was responsible for the boys' abduction. And while dealing with that agony, she had to deal with her husband revealing his homosexuality. She couldn't handle it. She walked out. Her parting shot, directed to Sean: "And as for you: You disappear from the face of the earth!" Those were the last words I ever heard her speak. Three weeks later, Megan swallowed half a bottle of sleeping pills and walked into Lake Erie. They found her body the next day. They never found the boys. FLASHBACK: SEAN (ST. MORITZ) � five years ago, a month later The boys were fine. "Uncle Herman" � a.k.a. Board member Germ�n � spirited them out of the country under fake passports. They were adopted by a lovely couple in Utrecht named Jan and Hendrik, and are growing up together, happy and well-adjusted. Megan � I truly regretted Megan. She didn't deserve that fate. But Jes�s and the Board were delighted. I had promulgated the tragedy necessary in the Trigger Man's life, the tragedy connected to his homosexuality. I was heartily congratulated on my skillful maneuvering. I felt no pleasure in all the praise. For, after insinuating myself into Seth's life, solely for the purposes of creating a tragedy, I had made the mistake of falling in love with him. And what I should have seen as a triumph, I saw only as a betrayal. I had broken his heart. When he left me, it broke mine. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH - Where are Vic and Miles going, Harry? We don't need a food run and they're not heading toward the stream to get water. - Maybe they just want some privacy. - And maybe they run into a dodecagon. - Vic's birthday is the 19th. - Still, it might affect him. And we have no idea what it might do to Miles. - Miles saw one on his journey here, and he's perfectly fine. - I'm going to follow them. - Seth, what if they're just sneaking off to, you know, reconnect. They are lovers, you know. - Then I guess I'll be a voyeur. If that's all that happens, then fine. I just need to be sure they don't get into any trouble. I'll be discreet, stay out of sight. - You don't trust them. - I don't trust this island. THE WOODS � SETH Harry was right about their intentions. Miles and a bare-chested Vic (his shirt trailing from his hand) headed down through the meadow, while I shadowed them from the cover of the forest. When they got to a point sufficiently far from the Tower, Vic shed his jeans � all he was wearing; Miles shed . . . everything. I soon had another reason to stay out of sight: their lovemaking aroused me. After rubbing their hands erotically over each other's bodies, Vic gently pushed Miles down to the ground. The smaller man lay prostrate while Vic piled clothing underneath Miles's abdomen, raising his ass for a better penetration angle. He lubricated Miles's hole generously with his saliva, pushing a finger inside to swirl it around the sexy bottom's rectum. And then he lowered himself over his lover, both of them hard as a rock � as was I. I watched with a vicarious thrill as Vic's cock zeroed in on Miles's bubble-butt and then plunged in to the hilt. Miles reacted with a combination gasp and groan, and then pushed back as Vic began sawing in and out of him slowly. It was tender but vigorous, Vic increasing his tempo gradually as he pumped in and out of that splendid ass. I wanted to join them, my own rigid cock barely able to contain its excitement. I grabbed it and began stroking it. I had been nude for a week now, achieving an erection several times, but I had been more concerned with concealing it from others than from indulging myself and shooting my load. Now was the time. I began stroking in sync with Vic's pumping, two strokes for every thrust of his hips, faster and faster as my cock thrilled at the touch and turned on by Miles's soft moans of ecstasy. In and out and of Miles went Vic's cock, as up and down went my hand on my dick. Would it sound ridiculous if I said we came simultaneously? Well, we did. I built up to a cataclysmic finale until I could hold it no more; my orgasm decorated a nearby tree trunk just as Vic collapsed on top of Miles and kissed the back of his neck. They lay there motionless, in a pleasant reverie as I grabbed some leaves to clean my hand and wipe off my cock. Perhaps I should have been ashamed of my status as a voyeur, but I wasn't. I really needed that. There were those in the Tower I would happily plant my dick inside � their number having increased by two with the arrival of Jordan and Miles � but, as their de facto leader, fucking any of them wouldn't have been appropriate. I thought they would return now to the tower, but they headed in the opposite direction, Vic in jeans and Miles still nude. Should I follow them? I did. THE MEADOW � VIC After I buried my bone in that sweet ass, it seemed like everything was all right between us again. Miles's body and mine meshed as it had during the months before, and the distance between us I had perceived seemed to melt as soon as my tool plunged up his anal canal. - (Miles) Something I want to show you. It's not far from here. - You're not going to dress? - Saves time. If it inspires us in the way I think it will, I'll just be getting naked again. Besides, I like the feel of being au naturel in nature, don't you? That's why they call it `au naturel'. - They should call it `au exhibitionistique'. - Wow, that's not only faux French, it's faux franglais. - Well, these aren't faux jeans. I'll leave my shirt, but these I'm putting on. We proceeded onward, me in jeans, Miles `au exhibitionistique'. Some distance further south, I saw a dark vertical object a couple of hundred yards away. - That's where we're going. - What is it? - You'll see. He quickened his pace, as if he couldn't wait to get there. When we got close enough, I saw it was a black phallus nearly as tall as me � taller than Miles. - Isn't it cool? - Huh. Another dick. - A big black dick. Like yours. Come on, let's touch it. Miles seemed almost irresistibly drawn to this thing, and started to trot toward it. Personally, I found it curious, but not compelling, and continued to amble. If you've been living in a forty-foot phallus, seeing a six-foot phallus isn't all that remarkable. As I got closer, I saw that there was a semi-circular area in front of it which appeared to have been recently mowed. Mowed? By whom? That very question gave me the creeps. I called out to him. - Miles, stay away from that! Someone mowed there � recently. It may not be safe. He stepped into the mowed area and beckoned to me. - Come on, Vic. It's a statue. What harm could come from a statue? Oh, look, Vic! There are little penises popping up, like flowers. It's like a penis garden. This is amazing! WOODS NEAR THE MEADOW - SETH Trailing them from a ways behind, I saw Miles approaching something black and vertical, about human height, possibly a sawed-off tree trunk. He started to run toward it. I heard him call back to Vic. I thought he said something about penises, but I couldn't be sure. And then I heard him yell, in distress. And I heard Vic yell. I abandoned my cover, came out into the open meadow and started to run. There was now some kind of black fence around the black obelisk-type object, obscuring my view of Miles inside the perimeter. Moments later, I saw Miles being hoisted into the air, twenty, thirty feet up. I reached Vic who was looking up at Miles in astonishment, and I saw that Miles was sitting, if that was the right word, on a black pole about an inch in diameter. The far end of it disappeared between his legs, giving the impression that it was sticking up his ass. He was now raised even higher, higher than the top of the phallic tower, his legs dangling down beneath his anally impaled form. - My God, Vic, what is this? - I don't know. He went running toward it like a maniac and then said there were tiny penises springing up and then one of them speared him and � holy shit! He stopped as the black pole started to turn a fiery red, as Miles's screams became more and more agonized. Just as suddenly, the pole reverted to black and then shot back toward the earth, taking Miles with it so fast that he might as well have been falling. He fell, all right � and disappeared from our sight, as the fence � that I could now see were the extensions of phalluses juxtaposed against each other, like organ pipes if organ pipes had cockheads at their ends � had blocked our view. A moment later they receded into the ground, revealing that the obelisk was, in fact, a phallus as tall as me. The grass in front of it was completely undisturbed. But I was disturbed: there was no trace of Miles. Vic stumbled around as if blind, his face a blend of bewilderment and outrage. Neither of us could process what we had just witnessed. Vic charged the black phallus and began beating it with his fists, then fell to the ground, as if hugging it would bring Miles back. The ground was unresponsive. I walked over and pulled him to his feet, putting my arms around him in a full embrace. The big Black man, every inch my size and every muscle my equal, collapsed against me, his sobs moistening the skin on my shoulder. I took in the fullness of his masculine aroma, the feel of his taut skin and well-developed pecs against my own; were it not for the drama of the moment � and the fact that I had jerked off only minutes before � I would surely have gotten hard. - How could this happen, Seth? How could he just have . . . ? He left the rest of the sentence dangling: How could you describe a dildo springing out of the ground, growing tall enough to reach a standing man's butt, spearing his asshole, thrusting him sixty feet in the air, turning red hot and seemingly searing his anal canal, and then whisking him off underground without leaving evidence of ever breaking ground? Vic tried again, managing in the most reasonable way he could: - How could he just have vanished like that? I held him in my arms and comforted him for a minute, then helped him back into the tall grass. He left it before me. I stood in the mown area a moment, looking back at the six-foot phallus at its core, when suddenly a human-sized black penis sprung out of the ground. - Seth, get out of there! Vic's voice was so alarming that I dashed across into the high grass. As I did so, dozens of penises began to pop out of the ground. Seconds after I had landed back in the tall grass, however, they receded, like miniature missiles retracting into their individual silos. The ground looked so perfect that the idea of it being peppered with small black penises might have seemed a product of my own fertile imagination. - What the fuck just happened? - That's what Miles saw. He started to yell about penises coming out of the ground. He thought they were cute. He called it a penis garden. But then they fenced him in and he couldn't get out and one of them pushed itself up his wazoo and � well, you saw what it did. - But that didn't happen when you were on it. - No. Not even when you and I were both on it. Only after I left and you were still on it. - Me, I could see � I've been the subject of special attention � but why Miles and not you? - Maybe � this is weird, Seth, but there is one thing you and Miles had in common that I don't. - What's that? - You were both naked. I've got pants on. I considered this a moment. - Vic, lend me your trousers. - What? - I want to test your theory. We're about the same size. Let me put on your pants. Vic looked at me as if to warn me of the foolishness of my proposition, but nodded, and stripped off his pants, standing there completely nude. Vic was very well hung. He would have kept Miles happy indeed with a cock like that. And I was reminded of how Abe had fantasized about Vic in the airport. A cock like that would have kept Abe happy as well. I slipped on Vic's trousers over my bare skin, hoping that the act wouldn't constitute a serious violation of my `mandate' to stay nude � it was only for a minute or so - and tentatively stepped onto the mown semicircle, ready to dash to safety the moment a single black penis popped out of the ground. Nothing happened. I stayed there for a minute. Nothing. I walked around a bit. Nothing. I got brave and approached the giant phallus itself and encircled it with my arms. Nothing. I went back to Vic, stripped off his pants, and then gingerly stepped onto the semi-circle again. Instantly about twenty penises sprung out of the ground and I hopped back to safety into the tall grass just as the entire area seemed to be overtaken by penises. - A penis garden indeed. Well, Vic, I think your theory is sound. I don't know why, but I think these things are safe if you're wearing pants. - . . . Is he dead, Seth? Is Miles dead? - I don't think so. I think the four guys who have disappeared � and Miles � are in the other universe. Miles's appearance on the island might have been deliberate � they might have brought him and Jordan here to tell us what is going on. And one by one they're taking us there. - So you don't think we're already in this Betaworld? Miles said we were. - I don't know. They might have lied to him. Or maybe he's now in a third universe nobody knows about. Tomorrow will be a test. We're going all out to protect Augie. If they manage to get him anyway, there may be no avoiding us all getting captured. But . . . - But? - But maybe that's not so bad. Maybe the other place is what they call Alphaworld, the one we grew up in. Maybe being captured is our escape route. Maybe it's how we get off this island. We proceeded northwards to collect Miles's clothing and Vic's shirt. Maybe somebody could use Miles' clothing, like Jasper, who was closer to Miles's size. - Wait, this was the spot. I'm sure of it. - Yeah, I know. I saw you. - You saw us? You were spying on us? - Kinda. - I was wondering how you just happened to show up. - Vic, you weren't supposed to go wandering off. I had to find out why. - I figured it was okay � my birthday isn't `til next week. And I really needed to . . . - Understood. We all need it, and you had to let nature take its course. Apologies for being a voyeur, it was just for security purposes, not to get off on it or anything. Although I did, in fact, get off on it. - Well, anyway, this was the spot where he left his clothes. And I left my shirt. - I agree. It was. I saw you leave them there. This isn't the first case of unattended clothes vanishing, you know. - Or people vanishing. But now we not only have to watch out for decawhatzits, we have to avoid this `penis garden'. I don't trust it, even with clothes on. - It might not be the only one on the island, either. - You think there are twelve of these, too? - It's a big island. THE PHALLIC TOWER � HARRY I saw him sitting by himself under a tree, a picture of desolation. Something had happened. I'd seen him this morning talking with Augie. It didn't look like it had gone well. - Jordan, you okay? The tears that formed in his eyes answered that question before he said a word. - I'm a shit, Harry. - You're not a shit. You're . . . - I'm what? - In love. - . . . - . . . - Yes. I am that. Fat lot of good it does me. He doesn't love me back. - I think he does, Jordan. That's why he's so angry. - He's angry because I made him look like a fool. Because I lied to him. - Because you exposed his lie to himself, Jordan. He's not angry with you as much as with himself. That's why he doesn't want to be around you � it makes him look inside himself. - . . . Maybe that's part of it. - Do you know what happened to him here? - Vic told me the green dodecagon made him take off his clothes and dance naked. - That was one thing, yes. But I meant the thing with Lucas. - Lucas. He's one of those who disappeared. - Yes, and good riddance, so far as I'm concerned. - Something happened with Lucas and Augie. - Just before he disappeared, Lucas's dodecagon made him � or inspired him, something � anyway, Lucas raped Augie. - He what?! - He raped Augie. - Omigod. - Don't tell him I told you that. Nobody knows except me and Seth. Don't even tell Miles � Vic doesn't know. But � well, this is my theory only � my theory is that Augie might have liked it. - Poor Augie. - He's been dealing with it ever since. He knew he was gay before you arrived, Jordan. But he was hiding, he was pretending, and he was using you to justify thinking himself straight. And you just blew that all out of the water. - I know. But you think he loves me in spite of all that? It's not logical. - Love is not logical. - You sound like you've had some experience with that. I had to laugh. Not a funny laugh. - No, not hardly. - Really? Guys look up to you, though. - Do they? They look up to Seth. Seth � thank god for Seth. Seth at least respects me, makes me feel worthwhile. - Worthwhile? Harry, how can you say that? Everybody's worthwhile. - If anybody here respects me, it's only because Seth does. But we're not talking about respect, Jordan. We were talking about love. - Are you telling me you've never been in love? - Do crushes count? - You've never had a boyfriend? - It takes two to tango, Jordan. No, fat Harry doesn't have any names on his dance card. - You deserve names on your dance card, Harry. You're a good guy. There's someone out there good enough to deserve you. - Well, thank you. But this conversation wasn't supposed to be about me. It's about you and Augie. Give him time, Jordan. Be patient. I'll talk to him. Seth can talk to him. I know: Vic and Miles, they can show him how happy they are together, that it's okay to be gay, you can be in a loving relationship. - Where are Vic and Miles, anyway? Haven't seen them in a while. - I actually know the answer to that question, but I'm not sure I'm supposed to say. THE PHALLIC TOWER - AUGIE I saw Harry sitting with Jordan. He looked like he was consoling her. `Her'. I still thought of Jordan as `her', even after seeing his bare, flat chest and the hint of whiskers on his face. I thought about all the fussiness over pronouns � ridiculed by my parents and Pastor Markson, of course, and not encouraged by my teachers in either high school or college � but was starting to realize their importance. Was Jordan a `they'? I'd have to ask her. Him. Them. That is, if I ever spoke to Jordan again. I would have to, I knew. But at the moment I was jealous. Jealous that Harry was with her/him/them. As if Jordan was the injured party and not me. Maybe Jordan WAS an injured party. Not THE injured party, but AN injured party. He � I'm gonna stick with `he' � knew when he came here that he would have to explain the deception. And he was doing it because he loves me. `He loves me'. That's a hard phrase for a devout Christian male from Texas to say unless you're talking about your father or Jesus Christ. - Hey, Augie, how're you doing? I looked up, startled. I hadn't heard anyone approach. To my surprise, it was . . . well, I was hoping it wasn't Ray. With this gentle approach, it wasn't like Ray, unless he was trying to seduce me with kindness. - Gary? - Yeah. It's Gary. Kinda weird to have to explain who you are whenever you want to start a conversation. - I guess you and I have one thing in common. I don't know who I am, either. - Oh, I know who I am. I'm just . . . gone a lot of the time. Are you upset because you're gay? Oh, jeez, really? You're seriously going to ask me that? - Who told you that? - Jasper. He said you were having an identity crisis. He said you were struggling over being gay. - It's none of Jasper's business. - I like Jasper. He's kind. Not everyone is kind, Augie. You need to accept kindness where you can find it. - Gosh, it sure worked out well for you, didn't it? . . . Sorry, I don't know why I said that. That was. . . that was � I didn't mean that. - It's scary. - What's scary? - Being gay. At least it is for me. It's not for Ray, he likes it � at least that's what they tell me, but it is for me. So if it is for you, too � well, that's okay. - I . . . thanks. - Do you like Jordan? Four little words. Four little words that destroyed me. I crumpled over and put my head in my hands. Yes, I like Jordan. Yes, I like him even as a boy. And I don't know what to do. And so I cried. - Augie? Did I say something wrong? I wasn't � - Go away, Gary. - What? I'm sorry, I � - Go. The fuck. Away. I can't deal with this! I told Jordan to leave me alone, and I need you to leave me alone. Go. Away. Gary. There was a long pause. - What happened, son? - I told you to go away, Gary. - This ain't Gary. What the hell is wrong with you? Sittin' here by yourself, cryin'? You'd think your dog had died or something. From what I heard, you just got dumped by a guy � well, ain't that for the best. You don't want to be hanging around with no perverts, now. Come on, buck up. Be a man. - . . . Sorry, Cody. - You want to take a walk? You could help me search for my herd. And I'll keep you off of them decathings. - No, no thanks, Cody. I'm going to stay here for a while. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH As we approached the tower, Vic suddenly opened up. - Seth, this business with Miles has been bothering me. - Of course it has. That was terrifying. - I mean it was bothering me before � the fact that he came here, with this guy Sean � I don't know, he was different. Like he wasn't all that thrilled to see me. - Looked happy enough to me. - He was happy to see my cock. But his soul wasn't in it, Seth. I mean, he came all that way � from another universe, if you can believe him � and then. . . . I don't know, that story is absurd. - Yes, it is. But why would he and Jordan feed us such a story? How would they know that we're undergoing such strangeness here that the idea of an alternate universe would actually be a plausible explanation? It's not a story you would come up with expecting anybody to believe it � unless it were actually true. - Okay, suppose we're in this Betaworld. Maybe this was Beta-Miles and not my Miles. Maybe this is Beta-Jordan and Alpha-Jordan is a woman like Augie thinks. Maybe their appearance here is all some part of a plot. - And part of the plot is for a fifty-foot dildo to shoot up his ass and suck him into the earth? - I just don't think that was my Miles. Or if it was � then this guy Sean got to him in some way. And if that's the case . . . - If that's the case what? - I wouldn't trust Jordan. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH It had been quite a day. We were just getting used to Miles's appearance when he disappeared in the most preposterous manner. And Vic was questioning Miles's � and Jordan's � bona fides. And Augie was practically catatonic over Jordan's being male. All this on the eve of Augie's birthday, when we had to keep him from disappearing like the others. It was December 10th � the day when Abe was to receive the data from Ann Arbor that he needed for his dissertation. If only we'd had the good sense to stay home. Oh, Abe, where are you? Are you even here on this island? Are you and I even in the same universe? How can I get to you? And if I find you � will you still be the same Abe I know and love, or some Beta-version of yourself that will freak me out like Miles freaked out Vic? I need answers. And I was starting to develop a plan for finding some of them. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: MOVIN' ON UP?]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-30	Date: Sat, 20 Apr 2024 16:52:09 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 30 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER THIRTY: NEW PARAMETERS Previously, on the surface: * Having escaped along with Ian, Augie, Stan, Al and Theo, Seth takes the group south, hoping to find the re-located Phallic Tower. A helicopter arrives. While Seth remains on the beach with the others, Ian races up to greet the pilot and is astonished to discover that it is Jude, a friend of his from Cleveland. Underground: * Miles is feeling abandoned by Sean, with whom he is in love. * While underground, Augie is punished by being shat upon, given enemas, and fucked. * Ed, reunited with Paul and Dai, learns that Leo is dead. Elsewhere: * Alarmed by the second death of a Twelve (Lucas, killed by Seth during the escape), Jes�s has the parameters rerun and sends them to Sean, who is heading for the island, supposedly to convey them to Ian and/or Seth. Sean's concealed intent is to dismantle The Project. In flashbacks: * Five years ago, Seth's affair with Sean caused him to fail to pick up his sons who were then kidnapped (by Stimulever, unknown to Seth), which led to his wife's suicide. * * * * * * * * FRIDAY, DECEMBER 14 * * * * * * * * THE BEACH � SETH I was still on the beach when from above me I heard Ian exclaim: "Jude?". Ian knew this guy! The name Jude seemed familiar; I tried to recall where I had heard it before. FLASHBACK � SETH (CLEVELAND) � October, last year - What are you saying, Ian? - I'm saying it's time we stopped seeing each other. - Why? I thought things were good. - Seth, be honest. I'm just one more rebound from the great love of your life, and that's Sean. He's been the elephant in the room all these months. - They've been great months. - Have they? You're a good guy, Seth, but you don't love me. And then there's the sex: Before I met you I was 90% top. I miss that. You're not willing to give me your ass, are you? - . . . - The last time you bent over for a guy was with Sean. That's why you won't do it. It would take you back there, the guy you never got over. - If I hadn't slept with him, my sons would be safe and Megan would be alive. - Which is why asking you to bottom would be cruel; it would remind you of Sean every time we made love. Seth, I want us to be friends, but we can't be lovers anymore. We're just not sexually compatible. - You could have fooled me. You DID fool me. Why now, Ian? We've been seeing each other since March, why didn't you say this earlier? - I guess I was a coward. - Is it � have you met someone else � is that it? - . . . - Ah. You have. - Maybe. I don't know. It's early. - Do I know him? - I don't think so. His name's Jude. BY THE BEACH � SETH Jude. If Ian knew this man, it was probably good news. I climbed up the slope to check him out. And got the shock of my life � well, one of them. I've had a lot of shocks lately. The man whom Ian had recognized as `Jude' was known to me by a different name: Sean O'Hara. Sean O'Hara. SEAN FUCKING O'HARA? What the hell was HE doing here? My mind was reeling. Harry had always championed the idea that we were chosen deliberately as part of some grand design. And underground, each of Hamish's lieutenants seemed to be someone from one of our pasts � Paul had his Anthony, Augie his Alfonso, etc. Mine, I had assumed, was Ian. So what was a second person from my past doing on the island? And why SEAN? Sean, who caused me to oversleep that fateful day, allowing some madman to kidnap my three boys, driving Megan to suicide. The man who had haunted me for years. But he had also been a turning point � without him, would I have set upon the course of serial boyfriends that eventually led to Abe? Just seeing him again made my heart go thump. There was still a chemistry there, I could feel it. Given the raging sexuality of this island, it did not take long for me to respond. I could smell Sean from ten feet away, and his scent brought memories to my nerve endings � and blood to my cock. I was embarrassed by my burgeoning erection, but at least, so far as the others knew, "Jude" was known to Ian, but not to me. I aimed to keep it that way. - (Sean) Seth! So much for that plan. BY THE BEACH � STAN I was still down at the beach when I heard Ian recognize the pilot. Since Ian had helped us escape, I could only hope that this Jude guy was here to rescue us. I scrambled up to find Seth with his penis parallel to the ground, and the helicopter pilot calling his name. What on earth was going on here? - (Seth, rather sarcastically) Hello, Sean. Nice to see you after all this time. - (Ian) `Sean'? Jude, why did he call you `Sean'? - (Jude/Sean) Because that's my name. I told you my name was Jude because you knew Seth's history with me. - (Ian) You're THAT Sean? The one who ruined his life? - (Sean) Does he look ruined? With that stiff cock? But yes, I'm THAT Sean. Which was precisely why I had to tell you my name was something else. - (Seth) What are you doing here, Sean? If you're planning to take us away in that helicopter, it's a little premature. You can take these guys, but I'm not leaving without Abe. Abe, by the way, is MINE, which he made very clear when we met yesterday. Holy shit. Clearly Seth had some kind of history with this Sean guy � it sounded like a romantic triangle involving Abe. But Ian knew Sean/Jude, too � and Ian also knew Seth in the past. This was looking like a soap opera, one whose next episode I did not want to watch. NEAR THE BEACH - SETH - (Sean) I'm not here to take you off the island. - Then why don't you leave? You've done more damage to my life than any other single person, and I never want to see you again. - Damage, Seth? I brought you and Abe together. - The hell you did. I found Abe all by myself, at Studs and Stripes. - And why do you think Abe went to Studs and Stripes? - Ian's friend Jason � - Ian's friend `Jason' is my colleague Paolo. Sorry. Something clicked into place. A guy named Sean had delivered Miles and Jordan to the island. At the time I had thought it a bitter coincidence. I should have known there are no coincidences on this island. Something else went `click'. - You're part of Stimulever. - Ah, so you know about Stimulever. Well of course, Jordan and Miles would have told you. Yes, Seth, I am. . . . Your boys are fine, by the way. It is not often that good news is as devastating as that last sentence. - MY BOYS? You . . . you were responsible for that?! - My colleague Germ�n. Alias Uncle Herman. They have two fathers now and are growing up happily in Utrecht. I'm very sorry about Megan � I didn't foresee that. We needed a tragedy in your life, and I was assigned to engineer it. I thought the kidnapping would be enough. I was filled with rage, slightly tempered by the activity in my brain that was starting to assemble the puzzle pieces. I had known that somehow I was central to this whole scheme � I still didn't understand why, but my role in this bizarre double-universe thing had apparently been carefully constructed. And my affair with Sean five years ago was part of it � talk about playing the long game. My cock would not grow limp. I thought about my relationship with Sean � the only time in my life when I had bottomed, when I had been the masochist, when I had enjoyed being controlled by someone else. And, as outrageous as it was, a small part of me wanted to surrender to Sean, to allow him to continue to manipulate me. I hated myself for that � but I hated Sean more. - I loved you, Sean. I really loved you. And you . . . were just using me? - At first. But, Seth � that all changed. I fell in love with you. I didn't want to. But I did. - Damn you to hell. - I'm still in love with you, Seth. And your body is telling me that the attraction is still there. - I have someone else now, as you well know. And you slept with him! You tried to steal him from me! - No. It was necessary to have some stress in your relationship. I had a job to do, Seth, it was only that. You're the one I want, not Abe. NEAR THE BEACH � STAN Yep. Soap opera. M�nage a trois. NEAR THE BEACH � AL Whoa. Too much information. My brain is on overload. I knew Seth was crazy � but maybe there was some justification for the crazy. I just want my life to be simple: Get me out of here. I thought that was what the helicopter would do. Seems like I'm wrong. NEAR THE BEACH � THEO Sean loves Seth. Seth loves Abe. Abe cheats on Seth with Sean. Seth is still attracted to Sean but is committed to Abe. If Piers were here, he'd write a play based on this � it would be some version of a French farce, full of people popping in and out of each other's beds and hiding in closets. NEAR THE BEACH � IAN My head was spinning. Jude, whom I had briefly dated just over a year ago, was really a man named Sean. Not only that, but he was SETH's Sean. I had been so glad to see Jude � a friend from the past. With a helicopter that could take us off the island. But it was all a ruse � he was Seth's Sean, and he worked for Stimulever? Why was he here? Hamish had sent me up top to make sure everything went on schedule. Was Sean here to supersede me? Did Hamish not trust me to do the job? And Sean had hurt Seth so badly in the past. We hadn't worked out as a couple, but I was still fond of Seth. I didn't want him hurt again. THE BEACH � SEAN God, the sight of him. I want to sleep with him tonight, but it's too soon. This is going to be difficult. I have to get him back in love with me. The lust is there, that's obvious. His body wants to sleep with me. But his mind hates me. I have to convince him that everything I've done � even sleeping with Abe � was because I love him. And I have to get Abe out of the picture without him blaming me for it. If Abe is no longer around, I can be a source of solace for him and maybe we can re-establish the love we once shared. * * * * * * * * SATURDAY, DECEMBER 15 * * * * * * * * THE DORMITORY � ED I didn't sleep well. There was too much tension in the room. Paul and Dai were fussing about Augie and Seth, who might have escaped, or might be dead like Leo. And where, they wondered, was Lucas? When I woke up this morning, the two of them were sharing the same bed. If they had buggered each other during the night, at least it had been quietly enough not to wake me. Ryan � a.k.a. Mac � appeared to collect me, fully erect and imbued with a lusty grin. - Come on, Eddie baby, time for some fun! To my horror, I felt a stirring in my balls, but I quickly suppressed it, forcing images of the late queen's funeral into my brain. It's hard to feel horny when you're focused on the casket of a beloved monarch. Mac escorted me to a Fuck Room � in case there was any doubt as to its purpose, the words `Fuck Room' were clearly emblazoned on the door. But, as I was to learn, more went on in these rooms than just sex. This one was well-equipped with instruments of perversion; all it needed to mimic a medieval dungeon was an Iron Maiden. Three other `lieutenants' were waiting for us. One of whom looked strangely familiar. - That's right, Eddie, it's Orson Threece. He's been looking forward to a reunion. He's actually down here as Leo's prior contact � I'm yours. Leo, unfortunately, is no longer available for fucking, so Orson will have to settle for his old man. Aged beef, but still prime. Adrenalin welled up within me. I was not going to stand for this. And I wouldn't have him taunting me about Leo's fate. I charged him. He wasn't expecting that and I managed to knock him down and get in a punch or two before I felt hands yanking me off him. I was pulled up legs first, tossed aside, and stomped on. - You're going to regret that, Eddie. His prophecy proved accurate. A pair of chains hung from the ceiling, ending in a pair of rings like in a gymnastics competition. Restraints were attached to my wrists, which were then attached to the still rings. I was hoisted into the air so that my feet dangled about a foot off the floor. The pressure on my arms was unbearable. But that was soon to be the least of my problems. - Considering that moment of indiscretion, I should fuck you ungreased, Eddie. But seeing as how you're not really used to this yet, I'll be kind and lube you up. I felt hands spread my cheeks; a finger went up my bumhole, causing considerable discomfort as the four lieutenants laughed at my humiliation. - Now, don't complain, Eddie, you've felt bigger things up your backside. And you're about to feel more of them. Four, to be exact. Mac went first. He held on to my hips with his hands and drove his penis into me fiercely, with a single thrust. I called out in agony, but he showed no inclination to go slowly. The pain reverberated through my entire body � even though he had fucked me before in my life, this seemed especially vicious. Dangling as I was from the chain, he made me do all the work, pulling me down onto his cock without him thrusting his hips forward at all. Each time I sank down onto his cock, paroxysms of agony coursed through every square centimeter of my rectum � not to mention the stress on my arms and under my armpits. Up and down I went, up and down, up and down as his cock penetrated my ass time and time again. It lasted for nearly a quarter of an hour before he finally shot his load. I felt like I was lucky to have endured that, and grateful that it was over � but of course it wasn't. Orson replaced him. Orson's cock was nowhere as thick as Mac's, but with my arsehole already sore, it was a rough rogering. The other two lieutenants, named Alfonso and Penn, followed. Penn had a long, somewhat bent cock, which hurt because of the angle of penetration. Alfonso's fucking was the easiest of the four, but by then I was grunting like mad and crying out for mercy � to which Mac only laughed. And that, I thought, was that. But it wasn't. - You remember, Eddie, that I'm a dentist. Down here, rearranging bottoms' mouths is a specialty of mine. You're going to lose one tooth for every man that's fucked you. It took three blows to knock out the first tooth. My head was restrained so that there was firm resistance to the fist that struck my mouth. And after ten bloody minutes � and two bouts of lost consciousness � I was presented with the four teeth that no longer resided in my mouth. - Relax, Eddie. You have enough teeth left to eat with. And you haven't really lost your teeth. - (No? Is this an optical illusion? Am I imagining the excruciating pain?) - Down here, damage to you is repaired overnight. We can bruise you, burn you, break your bones � and the next day you'll be fine � with one exception. A severed body part cannot be restored. If we cut off your finger, you'd wake up tomorrow without it. Same with your balls. And, of course, some of our guests have another body part removed. With that, he gripped the sides of my head. - To get your teeth back, they need to be inside your body when you go to sleep tonight. You could swallow them � but teeth are hard and can get stuck in the esophagus. We wouldn't want you to choke to death. So these are going up your bum. Don't worry � we'll make sure they don't slip out. And tomorrow morning, you'll be good as new � until the next time I knock them out. Mac gave me a small pouch containing my teeth. Tonight, he assured me, he would help me insert the pouch up my bum and secure it with a butt plug. He seemed to expect me to be grateful for that. THE THRONE ROOM � BARRY I was astonished that when I got Abe back, I was disappointed. The boy had proven himself a born sub, truly responsive to my ministrations when I was given a chance to apply them. It seemed a perfect match. But then they'd switched him with Jordan, whose body and soul turned me on like no one I had met in a while. I longed to get him alone in my studio in Santo Domingo and see what the boy was made of. I knew what his ass was made of � silk. I wanted them to keep Jordan around long enough for me to really put him through his paces and see just how amenable he was to the lifestyle I longed to have once again. But after Herrick's `escape', Abe was once again Percy's pussycat. And he was full of anxiety. - Barry, what do you know? Is Seth safe? I heard he made it up top � did he? Being Hamish's dog gave me a lot of exposure to some private conversations. I guess they didn't mind if I overheard, or if Abe knew what I overheard. - He's up top. They're happy that he's up top. They wanted him gone � he's supposed to come later, not now. - He'll be back, then? - He's supposed to come back. Some other things they aren't too happy about, though. - Such as? - Such as the fact that he killed one of your guards. - Stefan? I thought he was just knocked out. - No, Stefan's fine. Lucas. . . . Listen, Abe, if I got permission to tie you up, would you like that? - Bondage? Yeah, I would. But . . . I'd prefer that you didn't use handcuffs. - I don't think they'd let me use handcuffs. But there's lots of rope around that would look real good around your chest � and around your junk. He smiled. Oh, yes, the boy was a born sub. I wonder if Jordan is, too. JORDAN'S CELL � JORDAN They transferred me back to my cell. On the way, I saw a lieutenant accompanying a short Black man � a short Black man I hadn't seen since we were both on the surface. - Miles? He turned and looked at me. - Jordan! (to his guard) Can I talk to him for a couple of minutes? His guard conferred with the two accompanying me, and decided it was okay. They led us both to Miles's cell and monitored our conversation from just outside it. - Miles, how come I haven't seen you? I've been here for four days. - They mostly keep me locked in my cell. I've only seen one other guy � a little white dude, who just got his nuts snipped off. So how did you get here, Jordan? Did you find a penis garden, too? - No, a dodecagon. I was trying to save Augie and got captured with him. - So the Tower guys are still coming down. - Ed's here, now. And Seth was. - SETH? - He tried to break out his boyfriend, but couldn't. He's gone back up to the surface. - You can do that? - I don't know how, but he escaped with Augie and some others. They moved me in with Percy temporarily, so that Seth wouldn't find Abe. While I was there, Barry � do you know Barry? - I've heard of him. Hamish's pet dog? - Barry told me that Sean is coming back to the island. That revelation had more impact on Miles than I was expecting. UNDERGROUND � MILES Sean is coming back! Maybe he wasn't just using me. Maybe he loved me as much as he said he did. Maybe he's coming back to take me home with him. Sean, I love you. Please be coming here for me. THE BEACH � SEAN I led the group southwards along the beach until they reached a point where the relocated Phallic Tower was visible, evoking cheers from Seth and Augie and a muted response from the others, for whom the sight of a giant phallus was not necessarily comforting. Stimulever had sent me the new parameters � most of them. They hadn't communicated those that Seth would have to do after he returned underground on the 31st, which was annoying. It was as if Jes�s didn't trust me. A moment of paranoia, then reason sank in: Jes�s had no reason to think I'd sabotage the Project. He didn't know I knew what I knew. Bringing Miles and Jordan to the island had disrupted things, but not derailed them. I had to decide which parameter(s) I would abrogate to sabotage The Project. I would share with Seth his obligations � or most of them. I had to win his trust, and trust was based on (the perception of) honesty. With the Tower in sight, the group could pretty much navigate the way without my having to lead them. I took this opportunity to pull Seth aside and talk to him, walking several meters behind the main group. - You want to rescue Abe, correct? - I want to rescue everyone, but Abe is the priority. - I have new information from Stimulever. Like the instructions you got on those notes, except I'm delivering them in person. - If you're telling me to remain naked, I think we've already accomplished that. - You know you're going to have to return underground, Seth. But not until the 31st. They'll shut down the penis portals, make sure you don't use that route again. But before you return, there's stuff you have to do up here. - What kind of things? - You won't like it. But think of it as what you need to do to save Abe. - Cut the preamble. Get on with it. - Okay. Here's the deal. First, Augie. They're not happy you took Augie; you have to continue his punishment. - Meaning? - You have to shit and piss on him every day. He has to smear the shit over his privates and wait an hour before he's allowed to wash it off. - Oh, jeez, poor Augie. What else? - You have to fuck one of the Twelves every day. - Excuse me? - It doesn't matter who, it can even be the same person every day, but you can't let a day go by without fucking one of them. - That's absurd. - Agreed. Most of The Project's parameters are absurd. I've never understood them. But Seth, I do know this. If you don't do these things, the Project will fall apart. Which I fervently want to happen, while pretending I don't. - I have to fuck one of them every day. Not Augie � his punishment is bad enough. And Harry's so down on himself, I can't treat him like a piece of meat. The rest, I think, are all tops � at least Gary is when he's Ray. - `When he's Ray'? . . . You'll explain that to me later. - I don't want to do this, Sean. - You'll do it if you want to save Abe. For now, I withheld one other thing he had to do: I knew he'd balk at it, and it was better to let him adjust to these two first. Besides, it wasn't to be done until after Christmas. I'd tell him then. Okay, so I wasn't completely honest with Seth. Or very honest at all. But maybe he looks at me as an ally now. His route to freeing Abe. And that's a positive first step toward winning back his heart. THE PHALLIC TOWER � HARRY Gary � who was Gary this afternoon � came rushing into the tower. - Harry, there are men approaching. I'm not sure but I think one of them might be Seth. They're all naked except for one. An answer to my prayers � if true. I wasn't the only one anxious to see. - (Vic) Was Miles with them? - (Gary) Maybe. One of them's Black, but they're too far away. - (me) Careful. It might be Stimulever trying to trick us. Vic ignored my caution and rushed out of the tower. Gary and I followed. I watched anxiously as the group approached, then, when they caught sight of us, hands started waving wildly. Yes, Seth had returned � and Augie was with him! But I knew what Abe looked like � I'd seen him in the airport on Grand Turk � and neither he, nor anyone else I recognized, was among the group. - (Gary) Hot damn! Augie's here! Perhaps, but Gary was gone. The sight of his object of desire had brought out the lustful Ray. - (Ray) Hiya, sweetcakes, come back for some lovin' from my ramrod? Augie looked horrified, obviously hoping some other version of Gary would greet him at his arrival, and melted back into the center of the group. - Seth! You're back. - (Seth) Good to see you, Harry. Where are the others? - Tim and Jasper are on a food run. I'm amazed that you found us � they moved the Tower. - (Seth) So we discovered. This is Sean, he helped us get here. - (Ray) Introduce your other friends, Sethy. Is one of them Abe? - (Seth) No, that . . . didn't work out. This is my friend Ian. And this is Stan, Al, and Theo � they were all on the plane. - (Ray, to Al) I know you. You were next to me before I had to switch seats � (to Stan) and you're the one I switched with! - (Stan) Holy crap, I do remember you. - (Seth) Ian works for Stimulever, but he helped us escape. - (Ian) I wanted out of there, too. - (Seth, to Ray) I see you still have a pair of pants. But I thought they were Jasper's. - (Ray) He gave them to Gary. Though I'm happy to shed them now that Augie's back. - It's the only item of clothing we have left. Even the shoes are gone. I glanced over at Vic, who was getting over the fact that the ebony-skinned man among them was Theo and not Miles. He had realized that at some distance: Theo was too tall to be his diminutive partner. But Vic was crestfallen at the lack of a reunion. Seth motioned to me and we retreated to the back of the tower while the others got to know each other. - So what happened? I was so scared, Seth. I thought I'd never see you again. What's it like? - It's not a different universe, there's just an underground society that's very . . . different. Very authoritarian, with this little mini-God named Hamish and bunches of his soldiers. Everyone is being used sexually. - This whole island is based on sex, I suspected that. - You were right. You were right about a lot of things. - Abe? - I couldn't get him out. But I found him, we talked. And I found Paul and Dai and Ed. I didn't see Miles or Jordan, but they're there. But here's the worst news: Leo and Lucas are dead. - DEAD? - Leo tried to escape. They executed him. - And Lucas? - . . . I killed Lucas. - YOU killed � - It's a long story. But how are you? - Not great. I'm responsible for Ed's capture. He and Vic were squabbling; I let it slip that everyone thought Ed might be gay, and he stalked off in a huff � on his birthday � and never came back. - Harry, don't blame yourself. This thing is bigger than we ever imagined. One way or the other, they were going to get him. - Which doesn't bode well for me. My birthday's in two days. - But now we have new allies. Ian and Sean � they're insiders. They can help, I'm sure they can. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SEAN As a token of goodwill, I offered some of my clothes to whoever wanted them, as long as I retained my shorts and socks. I had to maintain something of a power position; complete nudity would make me appear too vulnerable. They suggested I give my pants to Augie, who had always been self-conscious about being nude in front of others. I would have thought all the nudity underground would have cured him of his shyness, but it didn't. He leaped at the chance to cover himself, and we were of a similar size. My shoes became community shoes, useful for whoever was traipsing off in the woods, which were hard on bare feet. Al took my shirt, which, given our difference in height, was long enough to mostly cover his penis and embarrassingly empty scrotum. There were parameters beyond Seth's obligations. It was time to share them with Ian. This would demonstrate to Ian how much I trusted him, how important he was to Stimulever. Before I made him the fall guy. I allowed some time for the newly formed group of eleven to commingle and try to find a common purpose. When the sun dipped below the treetops, indicating about an hour of daylight remaining, I pulled Ian aside. - Ian, I've gotten a communication from headquarters. - From Hamish or from Switzerland? - Switzerland. You know that it was necessary for Seth to return to the surface in order for The Project to succeed? If it doesn't succeed, somebody is going to pay for it � and pay for it big. You've seen underground the price that some have paid. - So? I did my job. - So far, yes. But there are new parameters for the Project to be successful. If they aren't carried out, we're both in deep shit. - What do we have to do? - I don't like saying this. But all the left-siders have to die. - . . . - All of them. Those down below and those up here. - Unacceptable. - Stan, right? I heard you two got close. - Yes � Stan. Why do you think he's here, Sean? Because I talked Seth into taking him. He's just coming out; this is the first relationship he's ever had with a man. - It's not YOUR first. - I daresay. I had my fling with Seth and I had my fling with Abe. And plenty of others. But I'm tired of flings and I'd like to settle down � and I want to settle down with Stan. - You can. But he has to die first. - . . . Say that again. - When the Project is launched, you can be together. It's only his Betaworld existence that will end, you can be back together in a new Alphaworld. None of the left-siders will really be dead. Just their Beta-lives will end. They'll be perfectly fine in Alphaworld. The truth was more complicated than that, but it would suffice for now. I wanted to advance The Project as far as I could for appearances' sake before pulling the rug out from under it. I needed Ian to carry out as much of the dirty work as possible, so that Jes�s didn't blame me directly. I wanted as little blood on my hands as possible. I just had to orchestrate this properly. - And Ian, you have to make sure Harry gets to his dodecagon on Tuesday. - I do? Why me? - Seth won't do it. And Harry won't trust me. He'll trust you - you rescued Seth. And surely you've noticed he has a crush on Seth. - I hadn't, actually. - It's obvious, Ian. Use your eyes. And use your brain. You can use that to manipulate him. The next domino that has to fall is Harry. You have two weeks to get those other three guys dead. You have two days to send Harry downstairs. Meanwhile, I needed to advance another aspect of the plan. Not Stimulever's plan. MY plan. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH The eleven of us settled in for the night. I alerted Ian about Ray's previous attempts to rape Augie and my concern that he might try it again. Augie at least had the protection of Sean's pants, and I told him to call out the moment that he experienced anything untoward. There would be no sex in the Phallic Tower tonight. A prophetic statement, less obvious than it sounded. I slept uneasily, troubled by Stimulever's new mandates � shitting on Augie and fucking a Twelve. I wasn't sure I could trust Sean, but neither could I fathom why he would lie about these burdensome requirements. Augie I couldn't do anything about; as for the sex, I'd explain the situation and ask for volunteers. I did not expect to have sex before then. But sometime in the night, a hand on my ass awakened me. And then a whisper: "Seth". I stirred. I felt a hand course lightly over my bare back, teasing me and sending a tingle through my skin that went all the way to my cock. I knew who that whisper belonged to: Sean. - Come with me outside. - What? Why do we need to go outside? - I don't want to disturb the others. Our conversation had been at a soft whisper; all around me was the heavy breathing of bodies firmly at rest. I carefully picked myself up and followed him out the door, wondering what new bit of information he had to convey that needed delivery at this pre-dawn hour. When I got outside, I saw that he was no longer wearing his socks � or his briefs. - What gives, Sean? Do you sleep in the nude? - That's not all I do in the nude. He grabbed my hand and placed it on his erect organ. With his other hand, he gripped my cock, which had � you might have guessed � stiffened. - I see you're in the mood as well, Seth. - Sean, you're not saying � - Seth, you know we fit. You and I have more sexual chemistry than any two people on this island. - Sex, yes. More than that � - I'm not asking for more than that. - Because of you, my sons were kidnapped, Sean. Because of that, my wife drowned herself. - And where were you when your sons were kidnapped? With me. Where you wanted to be. - Where I overslept. Did you doctor my coffee? - (Yes, I did.) . . . Don't be paranoid. You were tired. I let you sleep. - You let me sleep so that your friend Herman � - Germ�n � - Germ�n � could kidnap my boys. My life was hell after that. - Don't you think I suffered? It cost me you. I was forced to do that. It was my JOB, Seth. You've seen what Stimulever is capable of. If I had failed in that assignment, it would have been the end of me at Stimulever. Maybe the end of me, period. And you walked away � I knew you would. But all I ever wanted was you, Seth. It killed me. It broke my heart. I drove away the only man I ever truly loved in my life. And . . . I thought you loved me, too. - I did. . . . I did. But you let me think that my boys . . . might be dead. And Megan . . . - I had no choice! I couldn't tell you the truth, painful as it was for me to lose you. And � well, it worked out okay, didn't it? You made the change you needed in your life, you realized you needed men, not women � and you found Abe. - Eventually. But you found Abe, too, didn't you? You must have been studying me all along, you and your Stimulever colleagues. You knew I was dating Abe, and you couldn't stand it, so you decided to break us up. - That was never the intention. I could tell, even when I was sleeping with him, that he really loved you. And I knew you loved him. I have to respect that. I love you too much to destroy your relationship. - Too late. We aren't together. And I don't know how to get him back. - You'll get him back � if you follow the new parameters. Could I believe him, or was I being manipulated again? He seemed sincere � in the moonlight I could see his expressions, and they were convincing. But I had believed him before, and that had only led to disaster. - You woke me up to tell me this? It could have waited until morning, Sean. - I woke you up because I wanted to be with you. And (grabbing my erection) because you want to be with me, whether you know it or not. - You want to have sex. - I want to have sex. - God, Sean. Sex with you was so hot � even hotter than it is with Abe � but . . . - But what? How long since you've had sex? - With more than my hand? Two and a half weeks. - And I'm willing to bet you haven't taken it up the ass in a long time. - Not since you. I don't do that anymore. You taught me I'm really a top. - Sometimes you have to be a good bottom in order to be a good top. I'm ready to give you another lesson. - A lesson? - In how to bottom. I want your ass, Seth. - Sean. - You know we make beautiful music together. Come on, it's the middle of the night, everyone is inside, no one will know. - So I'd be cheating on Abe with you � like he cheated on me with you. - Exclusivity is overrated, Seth. You're horny, I'm horny, it doesn't have to go beyond tonight. I felt his arms around me and I melted. His lips brushed against mine, lightly at first, and then more forcefully. His tongue found its way inside my mouth and my hormones went wild. I squeezed him for all I was worth as our tongues probed each other and danced around each other's mouths for minutes. And then I found myself falling to the ground, Sean's taut form � less muscular than mine, but with a definity of purpose � maneuvered me onto my stomach. I didn't protest. His meaty hands separated the mounds of my buttocks, and I knew I was going to let him do anything to me that he wanted. I had a good twenty pounds on him, but I was putty in his hands. His finger, moistened, probed my hole, and then I felt him spit into my butt cleft repeatedly, his saliva to be my lubricant. One finger, then two, massaged the saliva into my rectum, as I thrilled to his touch. And then I felt his weight on top of me and his cock teased my exposed hole. I raised my hips to give him a better angle of penetration and then � with exquisite pain, I felt him push past my sphincter and invade me. In various liaisons with various partners, my asshole had not been completely inviolate � fingers had indeed probed it several times. But no other cock had found its way past my sphincter. I'd expected the sensation to seem unfamiliar � but the moment he entered me, it was as if the years had been erased. His hands gripped my hips firmly, and he drove himself into me, shoving his talented member in to the hilt, until I felt his balls jangling against my butt and his pubes tickling the skin. And then it was hang on for dear life as he pile-drove me, slamming my innards time and time again with skill and precision. And force. God, it felt good � almost good enough to make me question my decision to top only. But somehow I knew that this was the only man I would ever bottom for. Nothing else would compare to this sensation, this delicious discomfort, these wonderful rhythmic attacks on my rectum � these were unique to Sean's cock. I didn't want to ever let Abe fuck me, for fear of him falling short of this delirious ecstasy. No, Sean's ability to fuck was surely unparalleled � and I reveled in every moment as he drilled me like a machine. Abe, forgive me, but I enjoyed this. And worst of all, I wanted this to happen again. And again. And again. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE � SOWING SEEDS]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-31	Date: Mon, 22 Apr 2024 16:44:52 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel <[email protected]> Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 31 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 – a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE: SOWING SEEDS Previously, at the Phallic Tower: * Sean, intent on winning Seth back, clears the air with him about the kidnapping incident five years ago that resulted in Megan's suicide. Afterwards, he successfully seduces Seth, Seth's first passive role since their break-up five years ago. * Sean conveys to Seth some of the new parameters necessary to launch The Project, which he says will be necessary to save Abe. These include Seth humiliating Augie with shit and fucking one of the other Twelves daily. Sean, however, secretly hopes to sabotage The Project – and make Ian the fall-guy. * Sean informs Ian that he must arrange the deaths of the three left-sider escapees, including Stan, whom Ian loves. He reassures him that only their Beta-lives will be affected, and that once The Project is launched Ian can live happily with Alpha-Stan. Which may or may not be true. * Harry's birthday, when he will be vulnerable to a dodecagon, is December 17. Underground: * Miles described sessions where he and a `little white dude' (Al Casey) fucked each other – until the day when he noticed that Al had been castrated. * After being allowed to play with him, Barry fantasizes about Jordan being his bdsm sub. * * * * * * * * SUNDAY, DECEMBER 16 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER – HARRY I'm not sure I slept a wink all night. Initially, what kept me up was my rapidly approaching birthday. How could I outwit `my' dodecagon (the chartreuse one) when no one else had managed to do so? Until yesterday, I had given serious thought to surrendering. You can't beat the dodecagons, why not join them? I was despondent, despite Jasper's (and Gary's) attempts to cheer me up. When Seth reappeared, I realized just how much of my self-confidence relied on his presence – and how drawn to him I was. I hated myself for that. It was the story of my life – attracted to men who would never be attracted to me. At least Seth wouldn't humiliate me, as others had; he was always kind and considerate – and he respected me – which only made the attraction more powerful. Dammit, Harry. Why do you do this to yourself? Wishing for things you can never have. I was still awake in the pitch black of the pre-dawn hours when I heard whispering. One voice belonged to Seth. The other belonged to Sean, the Stimulever representative – whom I did not trust. I heard them quietly rise and go to the door. There was a handle on it tonight, and when they opened it I could see them pass through the door, the moon providing just enough light outside to present a contrast to their silhouettes. And they slipped outdoors, which made me curious. I rose, careful not to wake anyone. I opened the door a tiny crack – enough to hear them talking. And what I heard was shocking – Seth and Sean not only knew each other, but had been lovers in the past. There were some confusing references to Abe, a kidnapping and Seth's wife (he was married?!), but what cut to the core was Sean's insistence that he had loved Seth and still did. Then came the most painful sounds of all – sounds of seduction – and of two men making love. Sounds I longed to make myself, but never would. There was enough moonlight to see Sean's heaving buttocks as he penetrated Seth – shocking to me, since I would have assumed Seth would take the active role. I closed the door and went back to my wedge, trying to shut the image out of my mind – unsuccessfully. And tried to sleep – unsuccessfully. THE PHALLIC TOWER – SETH It was not the first time when the inexplicable had occurred while we slept. Betaworld had a way of making things come and go. Clothes and door handles could vanish, items could materialize out of thin air (the manifest, notes to me, Paul's jockstrap). Dodecagons and even the tower could relocate. So I shouldn't have been that shocked when I woke up holding something that had no place being in my hand, or even on the island: a knife. A knife! What the hell was a knife doing in my hand? What kind of message were they sending? I woke Sean and pulled him outside, returning to the scene of our sexual encounter hours before. - What the fuck is this, Sean? - In my esteemed judgment, I'd say it was a knife. - Why? What am I supposed to do with it? - Beats me. I think it would be useful for cutting fruit. There are coconuts a couple of miles from here. You wouldn't have to dash them against rocks. - That's it? Fruit? - (shrugging) Is there anything else you need to cut? It's not big enough for wood, it's not useful for digging latrines, I really don't know. I'd just use it to cut fruit. Think of it as a gift. Beware of Swiss bearing gifts. * * * * I wanted Sean to explain my new obligations – but he insisted that the others would trust me more than him, and he was probably right. I considered speaking only to The Twelve, but the more the left-siders knew about the sick rules this place operated under, the better-armed they would be. So I gathered everyone. - By now you all know we're in an alternate reality, a parallel universe. In which odd things occur. A quick check around the group confirmed that even the left-siders had been informed of this. - Another odd thing occurred overnight. I woke up today holding this. - (Vic) A knife? - A knife. It just materialized in my hand. I don't know why. It appears useful for cutting fruit, and maybe we can find other uses. But let's keep a tight lid on it. I'm going to stick it in the ground here, with the provision that it only be used for cutting fruit, and not for any other purpose unless I approve it. Is that agreed? Murmurs of bewildered consent percolated around the group. But now came the hard part of this conversation. - Sean arrived with new instructions, things that need to happen for us to get out of here. - (Tim, to Sean) Why should we trust you? You're from Stimulever – why would you want to help us? - (Sean) This alternate universe – we call it Betaworld – is key to what Stimulever calls The Project. The Project is due to launch at midnight on New Year's Eve. If it does, Betaworld will end and you'll all go back to your Alphaworld lives. - (Jasper) So what was the point? Creating a temporary world and then we go back to where we were before? - (Sean) Not exactly. Alphaworld will be improved. I didn't want to say this, but one reason you were chosen was because your future is not good. Next year will not be a happy one for you. If The Project succeeds, we can spare you future misery. We can fix the future. - (Gary, in Cody mode) You're telling us you can see the future? Horse manure. - (Sean) We're not clairvoyant, but we have the world's most sophisticated computer systems. We can run simulations based on the past and project into the future. A year ago, our simulations accurately predicted your lives this past year: Vic's job offer in Aruba, Jasper's decision to consult a therapist, Tim's commission from the Audubon Society. . . . And believe me, your next year is not something you'd want to live through, unless we change it. I wasn't sure how much of this I was buying, but he seemed to be convincing the others. Or most of them. Harry looked extremely skeptical. - (Sean) But we had a problem. Jordan and Miles discovered the existence of Betaworld – - (Harry) Didn't you tell them about it? - (Sean) No. They discovered Flight 12 on their own – and Flight 12 never happened in Alphaworld. Their knowledge put them in danger, and I brought them here to protect them. But that threw everything out of whack, and now the only way to launch The Project is for certain other things to occur. Seth will tell you what they are. Thanks for passing the ball back to me (yeah, that was sarcasm). - I have to return underground on the 31st. In the meantime – well, you know the energy of this island is centered on sexuality. We've all felt it. - (Harry) Some of us more than others. - (Jasper) I assume you mean me. But yes, it's been unbearable. - (Harry, cryptically) I wasn't talking about you. - (Cody) Well, he certainly didn't mean me. - Anyway, the new requirements involve sex. Actual sex, not just desire. There was a stunned silence. - (Al) What are you saying? I came up here to escape sex. - Not you, Al. Those from the right side of the plane. What down below they call The Twelve. I have to fuck one of you every day. - (Harry) Fuck? Or maybe get fucked? What had gotten into Harry? He seemed antagonistic toward me this morning. Had I said something to upset him? Why would he make a comment like that? Sean was the only man I had ever let top me, and Harry had no reason to know about that. I'd have to talk with him later. - (Sean) Seth has to do the fucking. - I know everyone here is gay, except for Cody, of course. But I think you're mostly all tops, not bottoms. But I have to fuck somebody today – are there any volunteers? THE PHALLIC TOWER – HARRY It was my opportunity. The first time in my life when I'd actually been offered sex. Seth's phrasing had been careful. `I think you're mostly all tops, not bottoms'. I must be the reason for the `mostly'. I longed to be a bottom – and the person I most fantasized about plunging his dagger into me had just asked for a volunteer. `His dagger' – perhaps that was the reason for the knife – the perfect metaphor. But – did I have the nerve? I'd waited my whole life for this, and now I was terrified. All I needed to do to lose my virginity – to one of the most gorgeous hunks I'd ever met – was to speak up. Raise my hand. It was now or never. - I'll volunteer. You can do me. Um, that was not me. - (Seth) Thank you, Tim. . . . On another topic, is there water nearby? - (Jasper) Yeah, I can show you. - (Seth) Just tell me where it is. Augie, I need to talk to you privately. Near water. We'll be gone an hour or so. I don't know what that's all about, unless he's going to fuck Augie as well. FUCK ROOM D – JORDAN They'd taken me to a Fuck Room. Nothing unusual about that – it happened several times a day. I'd had a respite from the fuck rooms when they were hiding Abe, and I was Percy's temporary pussycat. While I was there, they'd let Barry have his way with me. Ooh, la la. Barry. I am twenty-two years old, and I've been sexually active since I was sixteen. In the intervening years, my ass has hosted any number of cocks. But Barry – ooh la la, Barry. (Oh, I said that already.) Not only was his dick the thickest I'd ever felt, but he was so talented in his technique. He knew how to adjust his tempo, luring me into periods of complacency and then savagely thrusting with a fortitude that made me gasp in surprise, pain – and joy. He pummeled my prostate so thoroughly that I regretted that I had ever, even for a moment, considered surrendering my male genitals to the surgeon's scalpel. To rewrite Rodgers and Hammerstein, I Enjoy Being a Boy. So imagine my surprise – and my pleasure – when the fucker that greeted me in the fuck room was not Orson or Atticus or the extremely well-hung Stefan, but Barry. - Yeah, bitch, it's me. Hamish is rewarding me with fucking opportunities more often. I requested access to you. There's something special about you. Whoa. Yes? He was almost talking romantically, not just as a lusty goat. - I don't know what it is, but you're more than just an ass to fuck. - Thank you. I've always thought so. - You have spunk. - You have spunk, too. Isn't that what the British call semen? - I wouldn't know about that. But I do have plenty of it. Something I'd like to ask you. - Something I'd like to ask you, too. Do you know anything about Augie? - Forget Augie. He's not right for you. - He . . . I'm beginning to think that. But I still want him to be safe. - All I know is that he's on the surface. They don't tell me a lot. - What is it you want to ask me? - Do you like pain? - Pain? - Like a cane on your ass? Or a whip on your back? Or clothespins on your balls? My cock answered for me. It started to rise, surprising me. I had never been in a bdsm scene, but the thought of surrendering to Barry's majestic masculinity was so overwhelming that I was hard in ten seconds. - I see that you do. - Actually, Barry, I don't know. But the thought – - Excites you. - . . . It does. - Well, let's try you out. I'm going to plant fifty hard ones on your sweet ass before fucking the daylights out of you. Now bend over and grab your knees. He picked up a long paddle and swung it viciously in the air. The grin on his face was both vicious and playful. He was going to enjoy making me hurt. And I was pretty damn sure I was going to enjoy it, too. Whack! Or maybe not. Jeez, that was hard. - Count them. - One. - `One, Sir.' - One, Sir. - That's the way, bitch. Whack! - Two, Sir. Whack! - Three, Sir. Whack! Whack! Whack! My ass was on fire. Whack! - Seven, Sir. - You're loving this, aren't you, bitch? I wasn't. And yet I was. And I couldn't wait for him to fuck me. THE PHALLIC TOWER – IAN The question was – could I trust Sean? In the year I had spent as Hamish's henchman, no one had ever explained the nature or purpose of The Project. Sean had told the Twelve that their lives would be improved in a new Alphaworld. I wondered if my life would be improved, too. I also wondered if he was telling the truth. After Seth and Augie had departed (for some undisclosed reason), some of the others were pumping Sean for more information. The most relevant question came from Harry: - (Harry) You say the sex Seth is having is necessary to launch this so-called Project, which will spare us some unforetold future misery. - (Sean) That's right. - (Harry) What about the dodecagons? Do we have to keep our date with them for The Project to be launched? And what about Augie – he's met his dodecagon, he's here now, can he stay? There was a long pause. - (Sean) I can't answer that. - (Harry) Can't – or won't? - (Sean) Can't. I don't know everything, Harry. I'm only a messenger, don't blame me for this. I know your birthday is tomorrow, I can't tell you what's going to happen then. - (Harry, angrily) Well, tell your fucking computer to run some simulations and let me know. He said he didn't know the answer to Harry's question. And yet he had told me quite bluntly that I had to make sure Harry went underground as scheduled. Which of us was he lying to? My bet was Harry. More worrisome – I was supposed to engineer the deaths of Al, Theo – and Stan. I had to trust Sean, but could I? If he was telling the truth, there wouldn't ultimately be any negative consequences for the left-siders – only their Beta-lives would end, they'd be fine back in the real world. If he was lying, I'd be committing murder. Permanent, irreversible murder. He wants me to kill Stan. Stan! But that, dear Sean, is not a risk I can take. Even if there's a 98% chance that you're telling me the truth and Stan and I could be together in Alphaworld – that 2% chance was still there, and I could lose him forever. And be the agent of his death. I have to find a way out of this. THE WOODS – SETH - (Augie) Why did you bring me here, Seth? Are you going to fuck me, too? - No. But there's a reason we had to be by water. You'll need to bathe. - Do I stink? - No. Not yet. But, Augie – I'm sorry. It's one of the requirements. Your punishment downstairs – - I don't want to talk about that. - We're going to have to. I have to shit on you, Augie. And you have to smear it all over your junk. - WHAT? I thought when I escaped – - I'm sorry. After an hour, you can clean off in the stream. - After an HOUR? - That's what they said. Sean said it could be quicker, but you won't like how. - Tell me. - If you jack off while your cock is in shit. - That's sick. - Well, the shit could act as a kind of lubricant. - God, Seth, what kind of pervert do you think I am? - No kind, Augie. But if you don't want to jack off in front of me, you can just wait out the hour. But you're going to have to take off your pants anyway. - Pants have a way of disappearing while we're bathing. - I'll sit on them, make sure they don't go away. As Augie lay supine, I pissed all over him, as Sean had directed me, coating his body with my yellow discharge. And then I squatted over him and did my business, the result of which he reluctantly smeared over his cock and balls. I kept an eye on him, but at a distance, both to give him a semblance of privacy and to get away from the smell. After about three minutes, I heard: - (Augie) Oh, hell. I can't stand this any longer. Seth, turn around. I don't want you watching this. Did that mean what I thought it meant? It did. I didn't think he had it in him. But before I let him bathe I had to check the evidence, which had spurted all over his chest. I wondered what – or who – he was fantasizing about while he was beating the meat. THE PHALLIC TOWER – VIC Seth and Augie's reappearance had given me hope – though I wasn't sure how to regard the two Stimulever guys. Ian seemed glad to have escaped their clutches, but this Sean dude? Not sure I can trust him, but I can't see why he'd lie to us. I liked that when Harry asked him about the dodecagons, he didn't say, "Yes, you have to be captured by the dodecagons". That's probably what Stimulever wanted, but he wasn't encouraging it, which he could have. And Seth seemed connected to him somehow – I guess that made me trust him more. But I was still depressed. Six men had escaped from underground – but not Miles. Miles was still down there getting fucked daily. Miles was mostly a bottom, but he always came when I fucked him, either directly or by my bringing him off. He needed that release – I wondered if they allowed their captives orgasms. I decided to ask Stan. He said he was in a relationship with Ian, so he wasn't typical. I should ask Al. - Al? The man has no . . . - (Stan) Balls? - Well, yeah. - They let him use them before they cut him. I know he had sex a couple of times with a Black guy. My heart jump-started. - A Black guy? Was he named Miles? - I don't know. Ask Al. - Stan, I don't know that I should ask him. I mean, seems a little insensitive to ask a man who no longer has his . . . his . . . - The word you're searching for is `balls'. Al won't mind. He's talked about it. I think it's kind of nostalgic for him, a good memory. I found Al, who was talking with Ian. - Al, I hope you won't mind, but Stan said I could ask you. Ian, it's kinda sensitive, if you don't mind. - (Al) Oh, hell, I have no secrets. Anything you say, you can say in front of him. You want to ask about my castration, right? - . . . Uh, no, actually. I wanted to ask about before then. I was wondering if guys downstairs were allowed to have orgasms. I know someone who – - I was. Though I'm not sure about everybody. Some guys, I think, were just fucked and that was it. But they let me fuck three times. The last time was just before they cut me – they fixed me up with Hamish's dog. But before that, they paired me with this Black guy and made us fuck each other. - About this Black guy – - Don't get the wrong idea – I swear I'm straight – but you know how this island is, everything centers on sex, and it's like they want everyone to be gay, right? I'd never done it with a dude in my life. But this guy – I don't know, I guess it's the atmosphere, but I really enjoyed putting it to him. I thought, man, I don't like taking it up the ass, but I sure as hell could give it. If we ever go back to the real world and I get my balls back – I could see doing a lady up her back door, you know? Hell, I could even see doing a dude up HIS back door. But maybe in the real world I wouldn't have those urges, you know? - About this Black guy – - He liked it, too. He liked taking it up the ass, I could tell. He was used to it. - Was his name Miles? - They didn't use first names. They called me Casey, they called him – what did they call him? King, I think. He did say he had some kind of boyfriend he was stringing along, this dude thought he was in love with him back in Minnesota, but he was actually in love with somebody else. Boy, I'd hate to be the boyfriend when they get back together. - . . . Yeah, so would I. I couldn't believe what he was saying. Miles was claiming he was stringing me along, that he was in love with someone else? Did that account for his coolness when he appeared on the island? I knew something was off, he wasn't the same. But maybe it wasn't him. I mean, the island had changed Al into someone who was at least open to having sex with men. Maybe the island had changed Miles. Maybe this was just Beta-Miles, and Alpha-Miles still loves me. And maybe he'd been playing me for a fool. Ian had been observing all this quietly. I wondered if he knew about my connection with Miles. THE PHALLIC TOWER – IAN This little exchange had given me an idea. It would take some time to develop, but I had time. I needed to work out how to exploit it, how to sow the proper seed. In the meantime, I had another seed to sow. Seth had told me he would go with Tim to try to find some coconuts or bananas – papayas being the only food source they had discovered so far in this new location. I told him I would let tell the others that they were on a `food run' (wink-wink), knowing that they would intuit the true purpose of the expedition. Instead, I told them that Seth had taken Tim for his obligatory sex – and didn't mention a food run. And then it was time for a chat with Harry. THE WOODS – HARRY Jasper and Tim had gone on a food run yesterday, but with eleven mouths to feed instead of only five, we quickly ran short of papayas. Ian said he knew where there were some coconuts (no idea how he would know this) and would go with me. Fifteen minutes into the journey, he sprang this on me: - (Ian) You know, I thought he would choose you. - Choose me? What do you mean? - To have sex with. I mean, you're crazy about him, right? My God, was it that obvious? Ian had been here barely a day, and he picked up on that? Unless someone like Jasper had put a bug in his ear. Jasper knew, I'm sure of it. - No, Ian. I don't know what gave you that idea. I'm glad he chose Tim. Relieved. Besides, I'm hardly his type. - Tim is? Al is, probably, but he's straight. Though on this island, maybe nobody's straight, I don't know. Al sure had a good time partying with Miles downstairs. - With Miles? Vic's Miles? - I don't think he's Vic's anymore. Al was putting it to him pretty good, and he liked it. But Seth – I mean, you've been his right-hand man, I'd have thought he'd reward you by giving you what you always wanted. - Ian, I don't want that. It would be humiliating if he chose me. Yeah. Humiliating for Seth. When your defense mechanism isn't quick enough for deflective humor, try outright denial. Shit, Harry. Ian hit the nail on the head and it was so scary all you could do is deny it. Why did you do that? Because if you allowed yourself to say that you dreamed of Seth fucking you, and it didn't happen, it would be humiliating. I was responding like the fox in the fable who couldn't reach the grapes – oh, well, they were probably sour, anyway. No, I wouldn't want Seth to fuck me. My thoughts were disrupted by the sound of grunting. Grunting? Yeah, grunting. I knew what kind of grunting that was. And before I knew it they were in sight. Tim was on his back, legs bent over his head, while Seth drove into him like a jackhammer. A sickening feeling hit me in the stomach. I wanted to retch. I had been on this sex-infused island for over two weeks. All around me hormones were ablaze, cocks were springing to life, and not once – not once – had I witnessed a human being having sex with another human being. Even Jasper, who suffered from sex addiction, had abstained. Until last night when Seth had lain on the ground for Sean. And now here it was again: The most beautiful body I had ever seen, belonging to the noblest man with the handsomest face, was plowing the shit out of Tim Fallon. Out of Tim Fallon. And not me. THE WOODS – IAN Seed sown. Now I just had to tell Seth what Harry had said. THE PHALLIC TOWER – SETH There was an awkward moment when we heard a noise in the woods. Tim looked to the side and said he thought he saw something, but I was too busy drilling him to pay attention. Probably just a squirrel, I thought, until later I realized that there was nothing like a squirrel in these woods – we had not seen a single life form on the island other than people and plants. I wanted to wash off afterwards, but there was no source of water. Tim cleaned my cock willingly, but it was still a bit sticky. We remembered our mission to find fruit, and eventually did find some coconuts, only to have Ian inform me, after we returned, that he and Harry had gone on a food mission as well. - Didn't you tell him that's what Tim and I were doing? - (Ian) Seth, he knew what you and Tim were doing. Everybody did. He didn't expect you to actually come back with coconuts, figured you'd just say you didn't find any. I went with him, because Sean had told me where to find coconuts. He knows this island well. - Maybe he had a role in designing it. - I don't think he had that kind of role. But anyway, besides the coconuts, we found something else. - Yes? - You. Or to be more precise, you and Tim. - Omigod, Tim said he heard something. I thought he was imagining it. Well, did Harry get his jollies from watching us fuck? - Not exactly. Harry may be gay, but he's not really into sex. - He's not? - Whatever you do, don't include him on your list of fuck buddies. I asked him, and he said `I don't want that. It would be humiliating if he chose me'. A direct quote. - Wow, Ian. Thanks for letting me know. I know he was wishing he had somebody, and I told him if we got out of here, I'd help him find a bear-lover. I was going to pick him today, because I thought maybe he'd want that, but then Tim volunteered, and it would have looked weird if I chose Harry, who didn't. - Exactly. He didn't. He said he was relieved. - I'll be sure not to make that mistake in the future. THE PHALLIC TOWER – IAN Well, that worked. Another seed sown. Now I had to fertilize and water them, so that they would grow. There was more work to do. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO – HARRY'S DILEMMA]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-35	Date: Sat, 4 May 2024 22:49:16 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 35 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE : ONE DOWN, TWO TO GO Previously, on the island's surface: * Sean receives instructions that for the Project to succeed, all the left-siders must die (in Betaworld). While Sean's goal is to sabotage The Project, he wants to look like he is following orders (for now) and pressures Ian to work with him, threatening Stan. Ian helps manipulate Harry into surrendering to the dodecagon, and plants seeds of doubt in Vic's mind about Al's relationship with Miles. * Seth, fulfilling his daily obligation, fucks Jasper. When Jasper lingers in the woods afterwards, he is surprised by an opportunistic Ray, who takes advantage of Jasper's vulnerable position to rape him. Underground: * Harry arrives in the Dark Room and meets Piers, letting him know that his friend Theo arrived safely on the surface. He is then reunited with his college tormentor Uri, who informs him (to Harry's chagrin) that he must remain a virgin. * Barry is given permission to play with both Abe and Jordan � which they both respond to. * * * * * * * * TUESDAY, DECEMBER 18 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH It was strange to wake up with Harry gone. I felt rudderless without him. The tower's population was up to ten, but half of its original inhabitants were now underground. The clock was ticking, too soon for some � Vic's birthday was tomorrow � but not soon enough for me. I needed to get back underground, but apparently that would be impossible before the 31st. Until then, I had to comply with the new directives, so I needed someone to fuck today. I'd used Tim Sunday and Jasper yesterday and didn't want to repeat guys until I had to, so I considered the others. Gary seemed to be the asexual Cody this morning, and I didn't want to fuck Augie after crapping on him. Which left . . . - Vic. - Yeah? - Are you willing to be my bottom today? - I'm strictly a top. - I know that. - Is it because my birthday's tomorrow? You figure you should get me before I disappear? - Vic, come on, that's unfair. - Why don't you do Al? That little shit deserves it. - It can't be a left-sider. - Well, maybe I'll do him myself. I haven't gotten my rocks off since I've been here, and that little con artist is screamin' for a reamin'. - Why? What did Al do to you? - Never mind. Just . . . not today, Seth. Find someone else. - Okay, I'll ask Tim again. THE DORMITORY � HARRY Despite my brutal assault yesterday, I woke up feeling absolutely fine. Paul assured me that all my bruises were gone; my ass and thighs were no longer in various shades of red, maroon, and purple. Poor Paul was still stuck wearing a jockstrap, though it looked like he had a new one made of leather. When Ed was out of the room, Dai pulled me aside and told me the shocking story of what kind of leather it was. Ed knew of Leo's death, but not how his skin had been repurposed. Poor Leo. Poor Ed. Even poor Lucas. Lucas had victimized both Augie and Paul, but I believed everyone was capable of redemption, and now Lucas would never have that chance. This morning, a man named Mac came for Ed. A man named Anthony came for Paul. Four men (evidently the Mayer brothers) came for Dai. And then, finally, Uri came for me. He slapped me on the butt and reconfirmed news that I didn't need reconfirming: - You'll get plenty of action on the outside of this, but not on the inside. Before adding, mysteriously: - But you might get some action anyway. What did that mean? Fellatio? I hadn't even had that pleasure, it would be welcome. I longed for the penetration of a man's cock up my anal canal, but the chance to slurp on one would be � well, a decent consolation prize. What else could `action' mean? A hand-job? I hadn't jerked off since arriving on the island, and that would also be something to look forward to. But this place wasn't designed to give you things you wanted. If it was a hand job, it would probably be my hand on someone else's knob. (Okay, not the worst thing in the world, either.) Uri took me into a Fuck Room, where I found Dai, lying flat on his back, hooked up to a machine attached to his cock and sliding up and down along its length, stimulating him toward an inevitable eruption. Simultaneously, one of the Mayer brothers was kneeling over his chest, filling Dai's mouth with his member. Ah, did `action' mean watching? I did watch, in fascination (and a bit of jealousy) as Dai grew more and more excited, his hips quivering as he found it increasingly difficult to resist cumming. And finally, he ejaculated. That was an understatement. When I jack off, I get five or six good spurts, usually. Jism spilled out of Dai's cock at least fifteen times. The cum kept coming � and coming. It seemed like there was a pint of the milky white liquid spilled all over his chest, abdomen, the table he was lying on, even the floor. The Mayer feeding him (Xander, I would later discover) continued fucking Dai's mouth until he, too, shuddered and released his load � but on Dai's naked body, not into his mouth. That was Uri's cue. - Lap it up, Harry. Every bit of it. That's your action. You're going to swallow every bit of cum spilt in this room, from Dai and from us. Dai's hairless chest was a pool of white. The sight of it, the smell of it, excited me. I began to feel a swelling in my cock as I lowered my head to his prone body and began to taste his � and Xander's � cum. I knew in advance what it would taste like � I had sampled my own, out of curiosity � and knew that it was far from unpleasant. I never really understood why there was reluctance by some guys � and especially girls � to swallow. Cum tasted good! And by licking the jism off his body, my tongue brushed against Dai's taut skin, and the chance to be this intimate with a man � a sexy man, at that � was one of the highlights of my life. I think they wanted this to be humiliating, but it wasn't. It was a pleasure. Dai smiled at me, whether in pity or encouragement I wasn't sure � but it was a nice feeling. I felt really close to him at that moment. The only improvement on the situation would have been had I been allowed to clean his cock. But it remained locked inside that milking machine, not to receive my tongue's loving touch. I heard a sound, and the machine started up again � Dai had more sperm in him? And another of the Mayer brothers (Patrick) shoved his cock down the Asian's throat. This went on for a while � I think Dai had six orgasms, and was clearly in pain by the time the machine drained him of his last cubic millimeter of cum. There wasn't much for me to lap up then, but, to my disappointment, when they released him from the machine, they used a washcloth to clean his cock rather than letting me take it in my mouth. Well, it wasn't getting fucked, or even sucking cock, but I guess technically it was `action'. And I'd have to settle for that, it was better than nothing. And then they pissed on him � four cocks simultaneously washing his body with the remnants of their morning coffee. And guess who got to clean his body afterwards with his tongue? THE PHALLIC TOWER � IAN Vic, Theo, and Augie were on a food run, Seth had disappeared with Tim (his fuck-du-jour), Stan was chatting with Gary and Jasper, and Sean was off somewhere. The perfect opportunity to manipulate Al. - I heard you telling Vic that you enjoyed fucking that Black guy underground. - Well, I did � kinda. It must be the island doing that to me. I'm straight � you know that. Not into dudes normally. - Did you know that was Vic's lover Miles? - Oh, jeez. Vic asked me if the guy's name was Miles. I didn't know � - Miles threw him over for another guy. Vic's upset. He thought Miles loved him. But when you told him what Miles had said about him � that opened his eyes. And he got mad. - I don't think I'm his flavor of the month. - At first, no. But later he told me he actually was glad, because he'd been wavering about his feelings. Anyway, if you get the chance, tell him more dirt about how Miles was trashing him. - I think I already told him everything. - Then make it up. Trust me � this Miles guy is not someone Vic should be with. The more shade you can throw the better. Vic needs to hear it. He may still think Miles loves him � he needs to know the opposite. You'll be doing him a favor. - That's interesting. Thanks, Ian. There was a time when I had ethics. I still have ethics � I think. But I have mortgaged my soul to the devil � in the form of Sean O'Hara. But I have to save Stan. And nothing bad will happen to Al ultimately, right? . . . Right? THE PHALLIC TOWER � SEAN - Vic. - Yeah? - Ian told me about your conversation with Al. - Al's an asshole. - To me, the most important part of that conversation was that you still love Miles. - Of course I love Miles. Why wouldn't I love Miles? - Al didn't cast some doubt about � - Ian's been down there. He told me that Miles is devoted to me, contrary to what Al says. - That's correct. I've been down there, too. (No, I haven't.) Miles asked after you, he misses you. - Exactly. Al's a fucking liar. He's trying to steal Miles from me, once this whole Betaworld thing's over. - That's why I wanted to talk to you. You know there are some new requirements to effect The Project. And The Project is essential to spare you from a disastrous year ahead. - How disastrous? - Pretty disastrous � for both you AND Miles. So it's critical that the new requirements be met. - Is this about the fact that I wouldn't bottom for Seth this morning? Did he complain to you? - No. This is not about Seth. There are requirements you don't know about. One of them is that all left-siders have to die. He stared at me. - You're shitting me. - Vic, you know why the left-siders escaped, right? Because they saw other left-siders being killed. - Yes, but only their Beta-versions, right? They aren't dead in Alphaworld, so they'll be fine - ? - That's right. But here's the problem. Three left-siders are up here now. If Hamish can't kill them, he'll have to find replacements. That means Miles and Jordan. And Vic � Miles and Jordan no longer exist in Alphaworld. This is the only life they have. If they die here, they're dead. Kaput. - They're going to kill Miles? Is that what you're telling me? - Unless we get rid of the other left-siders. - Get rid of � you mean � - Al, Theo, Stan. They have to die. Remember, it's just their Beta-lives; they won't really die. And if The Project succeeds, they'll be happy in Alphaworld. And you and Miles will be together. - If the Project fails, we're not together? - No. - What about the others? What happens to them? - Nothing good, Vic. I shouldn't tell you this, but Theo gets run over by a bus and loses his legs. Bye-bye acting career. - Omigod, poor Theo. - Don't think `poor Theo'. Think poor Vic, if Miles is dead. - And the only way to save Miles � and keep Theo from losing his legs . . . - Work it out for yourself. THE WOODS � AL - Vic. - Yeah? - Why are we here? - We needed water. And I could use a wash. - But why did you ask me to come with you? - I wanted to talk. - About Miles? You're well done with him. He was cheating on you back in Minnesota. I remembered what Ian had told me � Vic needed to hear me trash-talking Miles. - Al, shut up. Stop lying. - What? I'm not lying. - Miles loves me. Ian had warned me he might say that. But Miles HAD cheated on him, the guy needed to be set straight. And Ian had said to embellish the story, make up details. - You're a fool, Vic. He said he'd been sleeping with another guy, and was going to Aruba to meet up with him � not you. He said you had a big cock, but didn't know how to use it. He said it was just slam-bam-thank-you-ma'am and you never considered what HE wanted. He said � - Shut up! THE WOODS � VIC I knew that last statement to be a bold-faced lie. Miles had always gone overboard praising my sexual prowess, and when we made love, I was always responsive to his needs. - Vic, he's no good for you. Ian said you needed to hear that. - I said `shut up'! I grabbed him by the throat and pushed him against a tree. He sputtered out his shock inarticulately as I cut off his vocal cords. - Vmmm! - I have to do this, Al. You'll be okay, you're still alive in Alphaworld. - Gkkkk! - You'll have your balls there. You'll have everything you need. - Ffffkk! - You're not getting my Miles. - Nnnkk! - And if I don't do this, Miles will be dead, and Theo will lose his legs. And . . . I don't know what will happen to you, but it's not good. I realized the irony of that sentence as soon as it left my lips. What was happening to Beta-Al was better? Was a Beta-life worth less than an Alpha-life? I tightened my grip on Al's throat. There was no going back now. I had to do this � for Miles. Al looked at me in fury and in confusion, not understanding what was going on. It started to get to me, but I kept thinking about Hamish executing Miles because the guys up here had escaped their dates with destiny. Al and Stan and Theo would have another life, but Miles wouldn't. Whether or not The Project succeeded, Betaworld would end in two weeks. So I was only shortening Beta-Al's life by two weeks; that doesn't make me a monster, does it? The fear in Al's eyes, though, was so terrifying. He didn't understand what I was doing. - Al, it's for your own good. You'll be fine. You'll have your balls. You'll be happy. You're saving others, and you'll still be okay. And you'll be off this island once and for all. I don't want to do this, but I have to. I have to. I love Miles, and I know he loves me, no matter what you say. Please forgive me, Al, but I have no choice. Sometime during that speech, he slumped. I released my hand and he slid to the ground. I knelt and felt his pulse. Nothing. I wish I felt nothing. I felt terrible. I had taken a life � or half a life � and Miles was not yet out of danger as long as Theo and Stan were still alive. But one was my limit. I could not do this again � even if Al was still safe in Alphaworld (could I even be certain of that?). I had to confront this harsh reality: Vic Torrance � murderer. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH Ian had told me that Vic and Al had gone off on a water mission. I was with Augie when Vic emerged from the woods. I frowned. Why was Vic alone, carrying all three water bottles? Where was Al? Stan, noticing Al's absence, trotted over as Vic approached the tower. - (Stan) Where's Al? - (Vic) He's not back yet? - No. - (Vic) He went off on his own. You know that penis garden you guys saw when you escaped? - (Stan, alarmed) Yeah, what of it? - (Vic) He said he wanted to check it out. - What was he thinking? I told everyone to stay away from them. - (Augie) Didn't Sean say they were shut down? - (Vic) Yeah, besides Al had Sean's shirt, so he should be immune to it. I'm sure he'll be back soon. - (Stan) I'm going after him. - Stan, you don't have clothes. If the penis garden has been activated somehow, you'll be vulnerable. I know Sean said they'd been shut down, but he also thought that when Miles was captured. - (Stan) Okay, I'll wear something. But Gary's pants vanished yesterday, and so did the shoes. I'd ask Sean, but I don't see him around. And the only other item of clothing we have is . . . - (Augie, sighing) The pants Sean lent me. Okay. I guess if I was naked underground, I can be naked here, too. But could I have them back when you return? - (Stan) Of course. The pants were a bit snug on Stan, who, while perfectly fit, had wider hips than Sean, their original owner. When Stan zipped up the pants, his pubic hair caught in the zipper, forcing him to swear for a moment, to the amusement of the rest of us. And off he went, in the direction of the penis garden, hoping to find Al admiring it � both of them protected from its seductive effects by their clothing. THE PHALLIC TOWER � VIC I felt like throwing up. The last two hours have been the worst of my life. Try murdering an innocent person and see how you feel. I mean, I didn't like Al � he had lied to me about Miles � but he didn't deserve to die for that. Even if he was alive in the other universe, so not really dead. I'd stared at his lifeless form, horrified, but not only was it too late for regrets, I couldn't waste time on them, not now. The `what next' was staring me in the face. I couldn't leave Al's body slumped at the base of a tree. I'd have to bury him. And not here, by the place we frequented for collecting water and bathing. Fortunately, Al was light and I'm strong. I carried him for about five minutes, hopefully in a direction no one would follow searching for food. Then I had to dig his grave, easier said than done when you don't have tools. It would have to be a shallow grave � no time for a full six feet. As I dug, I was crafting the story I would tell when I returned to camp. I removed Al's shirt, stripping him naked, lowered him into his grave, filled the hole with loose dirt and spread a large branch and some twigs and leaves over it to obscure the fact that the dirt underneath had been disturbed. I had two stops to make on the way back � the creek (to pick up the water bottles) and the penis garden (to plant the `evidence' I would need for my story). The penis garden was inert, so I was not in danger. I was worried that we'd been gone so long, but I was greeted by Seth, Stan, and Augie, none of whom had seen us leave. Ian was the only one who knew how long I'd been gone, and he wasn't around. One bullet dodged. I was a nervous wreck about my story. Seth was, to say the least, skeptical. But it was the expression on Stan's face that really got to me. Al was Stan's friend, and I liked Stan. He was devastated at the thought that Al might have been taken underground, little knowing that Al's fate was actually far worse. I went behind the tower to be alone. I didn't want to see or talk to anyone. I was so ashamed of what I had done. While it had all been for Miles, I hoped Miles never learned the depths to which I had sunk to try to save him. And it wasn't even a guarantee. Killing Al wouldn't be enough to save Miles without other things happening. The last person in the world that I wanted to see approached me: Sean. He looked at me expectantly. - So? - Yeah. . . . I did it. - One down, two to go. - . . . Wow, that's cold. - It's practical. You want to save Miles, it's what has to be done. - Sean, have you ever killed anyone? When you were underground, did you . . . ? A change came over him, and he paused for long enough for me to wonder if the answer to that question might be `yes'. Finally, he shook his head. - No, not underground. And not . . . directly. . . . Five years ago, someone committed suicide because of something I did. And it cost me the person I loved most in the world. He looked so morose and so broken-hearted that I was actually moved. Maybe he understood something of the pain of having done something terrible. Maybe he could empathize in some small way. - Sean? Theo and Stan � do they have to - ? - Yeah, Vic. They do. If Miles and Jordan are to be saved. - You don't want me to . . . Sean, I couldn't . . . - I don't expect you to. You've done enough. Where is Al now? - I buried him. I think I covered it up pretty well. - Vic, don't beat yourself up. Al was, in your own words, a little shit. He tried to turn you against Miles. Plus, he's still alive in Alphaworld, oblivious to all this, and now there's a chance to save Miles. I prayed to God that he was right. And I prayed for forgiveness, even though I'm not a religious person. I needed someone � something � to forgive me. NEAR THE PHALLIC TOWER � IAN - (Sean) One down, two to go. - What do you mean? - Al's dead. Together, you and I persuaded Vic to do it. He buried him in the woods somewhere. - Did you see it? You have proof? - No, but Vic was pretty destroyed by it. He wasn't lying. Sean hadn't actually seen Al's body. He was going on Vic's word. Which gave me an idea. - So � Theo and Stan. - They have to go, Ian. I know you're friends with Stan. - Friends is an understatement. You swear he'll be okay in Alphaworld. - Absolutely. Betaworld ends in two weeks. - So . . . let me do it. Stan, I mean. - . . . You want to kill Stan? You're sure, Ian? - I don't want his last moments to be unexpected, or in fear. I can explain. It will come easier if I do it, he'll trust me. I'll even let him choose the method. But then � I'm done, Sean. I can't do Theo, too. - I'll take care of Theo. Not today, though � I don't want Vic to think it's all over and he's won. We still have to get him downstairs tomorrow. And Tim in five days. - Gotcha. - Ian. You're sure you can do this? - I have to trust you, Sean, that he'll be okay after this is all over. - You can trust me. And I trust you, Ian. Well, Sean, I DON'T trust you. I don't trust that if the Project succeeds, Stan and I will manage to find each other in Alphaworld and live happily ever after. And I'm not about to give up the only version of Stan I can be sure of, in exchange for some dubious promise of future happiness. Back in Alphaworld, would I remember what happened on the island? Would I have cause to move to Portland? Would Stan leave Magda to be with me, or even recognize his bisexuality? Those were big risks to take, and I wasn't ready. I had no intention of killing Stan. But then Sean added this: - I'll trust you even more after you show me his dead body. Fuck. How was I going to get out of this now? JORDAN'S CELL � JORDAN Whack! Whack! Whack! Pain reverberated through my buttocks. And blood pulsed through my cock � the cock that weeks ago I had been willing to surrender for the sake of marrying Augie. What a mistake that would have been. The irony of it. They had imprisoned my body � and freed my mind. I realized things about myself now that I had never known before. Yes, I knew I was effeminate. Yes, I knew I wanted to be penetrated by men. But I didn't quite appreciate how much I wanted to be dominated by them. And for this I had Barry to thank. Every stroke of the belt against my beleaguered butt filled me with � not joy, but confidence. I had no choice but to surrender every inch of power to this muscular man � but it strengthened me. I felt empowered. It was as if I was making the choice to become his plaything � even though I wasn't, I literally had no choice. That which hurts me makes me stronger. Yes, I can take this. Yes, I surrender. Yes, I feel the power of your arms as you swing that belt at full strength to make me yelp in pain � and every yelp is taking me closer to who I know I am. I am your bitch, Barry. Do with me as you will. Fuck me, please. He did, quite masterfully. Afterwards, he rubbed his hands on my beleaguered ass, massaging it, reinforcing the pain my nerve endings were sending to my brain, and yet calming them, soothing them, almost caressing them. And then he took my whole body in his, hugging me from behind, planting kisses on the back of my neck. And reaching around to feel my cock, and my balls, squeezing them gently, playfully. - This is what we call `aftercare'. Do you like this, bitch? - Oh, yes. - Your cock seems to think so. Enjoy it while you can. - . . . What do you mean, while I can? - You wanted to get rid of them before, I hear. Well, your balls are on borrowed time. - Huh? - There's a limit on how many balls our guests can have. We've got a little breathing room since the escape, but more Twelves are coming, and eventually you and Miles � - They're going to castrate me? - What's the problem, you were willing to give them up before. At least you'll still have your cock. And the best part of you, that fabulous ass. - What about the others? The left-siders who are still � - They'll be gone before you. Balls first and then � Alice in Wonderland time. - Alice in Wonderland? - Queen of hearts, you know � off with their heads. Oh, don't have a cow, they'll be fine in Alphaworld. - What about me? - Well, I didn't want to say this, but I think everyone other than the Twelve has to give up the ghost. - They're going to behead me? - You'll be fine in the other universe. - Barry. I don't exist in the other universe. - . . . What? - When Sean took me here, I disappeared from Alphaworld. Even my own sister doesn't remember me. - . . . - This is the only life I have, Barry. - . . . Hellfire and damnation. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH I saw Stan heading back and trotted out to meet him. Something trailed from his right hand. I felt a knot in my stomach as I realized what it was: Al's shirt. And Stan confirmed my worst fears. - (Stan) I found this by the penis garden. - That makes no sense. Why would Al take off his shirt? - I don't know. But it was all he was wearing � and if he took it off, and it was active, he'd be seduced by it, right? - Right. If you're naked, it draws you in. But even a shoe is enough to protect you. - I don't understand it. Why would he take off his shirt? It's like committing suicide. Al didn't want to go back down. He worked hard to escape. He was happy up here. Stan excused himself and went inside the tower in search of moral support, trying to sort out Al's motivation, which was imponderable. But I was pondering another issue. The penis gardens were supposedly shut down. I needed to talk to Sean. - (Sean) Yes, they were turned off the moment you guys escaped. - No, they weren't. We ran across one and I had to tackle Augie to prevent it from capturing him. - Well, there's a communication time lag. It was turned off an hour or two later. . . . Oh. - . . . You've thought of something. - Maybe. - Spill it. - When I brought Jordan and Miles here, the penis portals automatically switched on again. Maybe your escape automatically switched them on again, and � man, it would be gross negligence if they made the same mistake twice. I can't imagine Falcon would overlook that. But maybe Dion � - Falcon? Dion? - They're in Switzerland. Dion gets a little drunk sometimes � if he was on duty . . . - So it's possible the penis garden is active. And if Al took off his shirt � which I still can't find a reason for � but if he did, then he would have been vulnerable. - And he could be underground again. - Can you find out? - Not without going underground. I don't have any means of communication. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SEAN Well, that was another lie. I had a phone buried under a rock a couple of hundred yards from the tower. I could report my progress to Hamish, who could then relay the information to Stimulever in Switzerland. Communication to Stimulever, however, was tricky. Stimulever was in Alphaworld and the island was in Beta. If Hamish or I converted to Alpha, where the island didn't exist, we'd be swimming in the middle of the Caribbean. The only way to communicate was if Switzerland was in Beta. In Aruba, I could switch over to Beta harmlessly. But Beta-conversions at headquarters were risky. The actual conversion was no problem, but sustaining it drained too much energy from the island. When we demonstrated Betaworld to the stockholders four years ago and kept it open for nearly twenty minutes, it had destabilized the system so severely that we had to make three weeks of repairs to the island. So we decided to put Switzerland in Beta only for microseconds at a time, just long enough to send and receive transmissions to and from the island. Every hour, Stimulever switches to Beta, checking for transmissions from the island. If none, fine. If a response was warranted but not urgent, it would get transmitted the next hour. If something like a conversation was necessary, a window would be opened at each successive minute just long enough to transmit or receive the next bit of conversation, which they'd record before transmitting. Since each transmission lasted a microsecond, the stability of the island was never threatened. The bottom line: I could indeed check with Hamish whether or not Al was underground � but, of course, I had no need to actually make that call. Al was under the ground, all right � but not Underground. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH The conversation with Sean � and Stan's collection of Al's shirt � meant one and only one thing: I had to check it out myself. For if Al, intentionally or not, had managed to get himself captured by the penis garden, then so could I. It could be my route back to Abe � Stimulever wanted me back downstairs, but not for two weeks. My reappearance would disrupt their plans � and just might catch them enough off guard that I could rescue Abe this time. In any case, I had to try. I was already naked, so I should be plenty vulnerable. And I would look squarely at it, to ensure it enticed me. I headed out to the penis garden, mentally girding myself for a sudden anal spearing. And there it was. I approached, expecting to feel adrenaline pulsing through my veins � and perhaps blood pulsing through my cock. But . . . nothing. I stepped onto the mown grass, waiting for the first mini-penis to pop up. Nothing. I walked over to the man-sized phallus, put my arms around it, hugged it, kissed it. Nothing. This penis garden was not on. If it was not on, how had Al been captured by it? There was something fishy about this whole story. But Vic and Stan were both entirely credible witnesses, even if Sean wasn't. But there was another explanation � not for why Al had stripped and become vulnerable, but for why he might have been captured and I wasn't. Perhaps Al's appearance underground had sparked a realization that the penis garden had been reactivated, and they turned it off after his arrival. Whatever. It looked like I was stuck above ground for a while. JORDAN'S CELL � HARRY My afternoon hadn't been as pleasant as my morning. What was I in for? Pain. Hands, straps, paddles, canes, floggers, all over my back, thighs and � especially � my ass. I screamed my head off, and my cock didn't get hard. The last twenty-five came with a single-tail whip, which, on top of my already-bruised buttocks, sent my nerve endings through the ceiling. If I was to endure this every day, it would be a tough couple of weeks. But as Uri escorted me back to the dormitory, I saw a sight for sore rumps � er, eyes: Jordan. He delighted when I passed by his cell, and motioned me in. Uri nodded: it was okay. We could socialize. He left us, deciding his escort duties were over � what mischief could I get up to? There was nowhere to hide. - Omigod, Harry, I'm so glad to see you � and so sorry. - Sorry? - I thought Seth would keep you out of here. - I came voluntarily. - What? - I wasn't doing any good up there, Jordan. And it seemed like the only way out of this mess was if this Project, whatever it is, succeeds. And then Sean said � you know Sean, he brought � - So he did come back? I heard he was going to. Does he know that Miles and I are down here? - He knows. He said we were all in for terrible years if The Project fails, and he gave Seth some tasks to do to make it work. I figured I might as well do my part and let the dodecagon take me. I'm beginning to think that was a mistake. - You're not used to all the sex. It was all I could do to keep from laughing. Not a funny laugh, a bitter one. Jordan picked up on that. - It will get better, Harry, you'll get used to it. I'm finding out things about myself that I never knew. Like I can really get into bdsm. This guy Barry � - The dog? - Oh, I guess they told you about him. Yeah, he was the pilot on your plane, but Hamish made him his pet pooch. In his old life he was a bdsm master, and Hamish is letting him play with some of us. Well, Abe and me. Lately, just me. Harry, I like it. You might decide you like it, too. - Jordan . . . - What? I felt too ashamed to tell him. I had told him my history � or lack of it � up at the Phallic Tower � when Jordan had told me I was too nice a person not to have guys on my dance card. It almost made me cry. And now I was stuck. The look on Jordan's face was serious, and the way I had said his name was serious, and he was expecting me to say something serious. Only I didn't want to say what it was that I had started to say � that even down here I was a reject. So I had to think of something else to say. - Augie's okay. You know he escaped, right, with Seth and the others? This didn't have the effect I had intended. Jordan turned away. - He hates me, Harry. - No, I'm sure he doesn't. Actually, I wasn't sure of that. I'd assumed he'd be sick with worry about Jordan after leaving him behind underground, but Seth had said he'd never asked for Jordan to accompany him, and I never heard him say a word about Jordan in the three days we were together before I landed here in Hamishland. - When they were escaping, he saw me . . . with Barry. I was � well, I was really getting into it, Harry. I mean Barry's really good at sex, and Augie � he got so mad, Harry, I'd never seen him like that. He said, `We're finished. I never want to see you again.' When you saw him up top, did he � like, express any regrets about saying that to me? - . . . (Uh, no.) - Or say how much he missed me, or express his worry about me? - . . . (Uh, no.) - I thought so. He hates me, Harry. And you know, maybe that's okay. Maybe Augie wasn't the right guy for me. - Barry is? - (smiling) Maybe someone like Barry. - When we get out of here, maybe you can find someone like Barry. There are websites � - Harry, I might not get out of here. Barry says they're planning on killing me. And Harry, I don't exist in Alphaworld anymore. If they kill me here, I'm dead. As in DEAD dead. - We're going to have to do something about that, Jordan. - How, Harry? That was a good question. How? [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX � TRUST AND CONSEQUENCES]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-15	Date: Sun, 3 Mar 2024 17:11:05 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 15 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel [Author's Note: I realize this story may have diminished readership, because (a) the plot is very complex, (b) it may not have as much explicit sex as you were expecting (yet), and (c) I probably should have published it under Sci-Fi, although there are significant authoritarian elements to come, particularly Underground. If you're out there and liking this story, let me know. I put a LOT of work into it and want to feel like it wasn't wasted. If you're confused or have questions, write to me and I'll be glad to help out in whatever way I can. Or share your theories as to what is going on - although there will be a big reveal in Chapter 17 and a significant hint in this one. - T.C.] CHAPTER 15 � PICKING UP THE THREATS Previously, on the island surface: * Leo, having left the group on a `call of nature', disappears. Ed and Jasper, thinking he may have returned to the amber dodecagon, find no trace of him � or the amber dodecagon. Jasper realizes that Leo and Paul have both disappeared on their birthdays. * Percy, in pursuit of the three left-siders not initially captured by Hamish, has located � and fucked � two of them (Piers and Theo). The one who remains free is Abe. * Abe has written two messages on the beach: a large `HELP' sign and `GIN AND TIPSY', in remembrance of Seth, whom he believes dead. Percy finds the `HELP' sign; Seth finds `GIN AND TIPSY'. Both resolve to find him. Underground: * Paul, swallowed up by the blue dodecagon, awakens in a dark space, unable to move, with a dildo up his ass. He hears a voice: it belongs to Anthony, who took his virginity back in high school. In Aruba: * Jordan and Miles use a little-known browser called `beetscrew' to research ZTA. They send an email to Stimulever, ZTA's parent company, threatening to go to the press if they don't receive information about Flight 12, including a list of passengers. They are puzzled that there are no news stories about the plane's disappearance. * * * * * * * * MONDAY, DECEMBER 3 * * * * * * * * ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND � JES�S - For those of you who don't know why we're here, somebody fucked up. The Project is in jeopardy. Two people have contacted us demanding information about Flight 12. - (Fred) That's impossible. Someone contacted us? - Two someones. A Jordan Murdock and a Miles King. - (Simon) How could that happen? - (Sean) They must have used beetscrew. But nobody knows about beetscrew. - That's only one issue. So they found beetscrew. How did they know to look for us? How did they even know about Flight 12? The firewall was supposed to block all females, relatives, friends � the only ones immune from it were gay partners. But we vetted the passengers carefully � no one was involved in a current gay relationship except Herrick and Derisian, who were both on board. - (Thibaut) And yet the wall was breached. - (Falcon) Indeed. I ran a scan a few minutes ago and indeed there had been two small cracks. - (Paolo) Murdock and King. - (Falcon) Murdock should have been blocked as a female. King � we don't understand how King showed up at Queen Beatrix and met Murdock. He's a gay male but wasn't on the plane. - Could he have ties to one of the Twelve and we missed it? - (Sean) Impossible. It would have shown up in the database. - (Ari) You didn't safeguard against cracks in the firewall? - (Falcon) Of course we did. I don't understand why it failed. But one of the safeguards was auto-repair if a crack DID occur. It was only open a short time. No one can get through now. - (Ari) But they brought in a hacker. And he got through. He could get through again. We need to take him out. - Agreed. The damage has already been done � Murdock and King know too much. They need to be neutralized. - (Simon) We'll have to send someone. - (Sean) I'll go. - This is more Ari's speed, Sean. - (Sean) The hacking was done from the states, not from Aruba. I'll go to Aruba, Ari can go to the states. After I identify the hacker, Ari can do his thing. - Murdock and King could destroy The Project. Take care of them, Sean. - (Sean) Don't worry, Jes�s. I know exactly what I'm doing. THE WESTERN BEACH � SETH I was buoyed by seeing the message that could only have been left for me by Abe. Unless . . . Whatever force we were up against knew a lot about us. Could they possibly know about gin-and-tipsy? Surely not. They didn't know THAT much if they were calling me Lee. It had to be Abe. He had survived, he MUST have survived. I continued to walk south along the west coast of the island when I saw something. A person! Was it him? He was too far away to tell. I started to run. - Abe! Abe, is that you? It's me! I'm here! But instead of running joyously toward me, the person dashed off the beach and headed inland, out of sight. But, in retrospect, the figure was too tall to be Abe. So who was it? There were only three possibilities: 1. It was someone from the left side of the plane who got freaked out by a naked man running toward him and yelling. 2. It was a resident of the island whom we hadn't been aware of. 3. It was a clue to who or what was controlling the events in this place. I had to be careful. THE WESTERN BEACH/UNDERGROUND � PERCY Shit, that was Herrick. I was supposed to find his boyfriend, but it was way too early for Herrick himself. He had some role to play, but it was not yet. I returned underground. Hamish was not glad to see me arrive alone. - Hame, I need an extension until tomorrow. I know where he is � approximately. It should take me less than an hour to find him. - Then why are you here? There are three hours of daylight left. - I ran into Herrick. - WHAT?! - He started running toward me and shouting. I think he thought I was Derisian. - Was he naked? - Quite naked. How else would I know it was Herrick? - You were wise to get out of there. - Are you ever going to tell me why he's so damned important, Hamish? - All he holds in his hands is the fate of the world, my pet. - Oh, just that? - So don't fuck up, love. THE DARK ROOM � PAUL There was a thump. - Who's there? Anthony? . . . Is that you? . . . Are you still there? I hadn't heard him in a long time. I was still reeling from the revelation that he was here on the island � if he actually was. With the fuzziness in my head, maybe the fall had induced a concussion. Maybe I had conjured Anthony up, invented him out of whole cloth. I had no idea if he was still in the room, or if he had ever been in the room, or if I was even IN a room. If I was in a room, it was pitch black � or I was blind. It felt like being in a sensory deprivation chamber, except for the one sensation I wasn't deprived of: the dildo up my ass. There had been no other sensory stimuli for hours. Until I heard the thump, which sounded like it was ten feet to my right. I called out again � no response. I gave up. A minute later there was a sort of groan and a muttering: - What the fuck? - Hello? - Someone's there? - Yeah. - Who the fuck are you and get me out of this thing. - (Wait � I recognized that voice) Leo? - How the fuck do you know my name? Who the fuck are you, asshole? - Paul. - . . . Paul? Paul with the jockstrap, that Paul? - One and the same. - (laughing) Well, the fucking joke's on us, isn't it, Paul? My father's right, I AM a loser, just like you. - . . . Thanks. - Jeez, don't be so sensitive. Did you go after one of those twelve-sided things? - Yeah. Dodecagon. - Didn't it make you feel sexy? I couldn't get enough of it. But then Jasper � you know Jasper? - Yes, of course. - He wouldn't fuck me. What's wrong with that guy? All he had to do was fuck me, and none of this would have happened. - I got fucked and this happened. - By a person? - No. By � - Of course not. You were with Fearless Leader and Fat-Ass Harry. No way they were going to fuck you, you were doomed. But Jasper � dammit, Jasper wants me, that's been obvious since the airport. He's so selfish, he wouldn't do his job. - Not fucking you was Jasper being selfish. - Damn right. You still wearing that jockstrap? - . . . I don't know. I don't feel it, but it was sticking to me so tight I couldn't feel it anyway. - Can you move? - No. - And did you land in this chair so that a spike went up your bum? - Yeah. Leo, can you see? - What? Are you stupid? Of course I can't see, it's pitch black in here. God, you ARE an idiot. - Nice to see you again, too, Leo. - Fuckin' Jasper. It's all his fault. THE WOODS/ THE PHALLIC TOWER � JASPER Ed and I headed back from our failed mission to find Leo. Ed was bitter. - I should never have let Beatrice talk me into taking him on this trip. Like that was going to do any good. He's got it into his head to be a damn homosexual. - (Uh, Ed, you're speaking to one now.) - That's not a path that ever leads to happiness. Do you know any gay people, Jasper? - (Just a few hundred) Yes. - Do you know any that are happy? No, right? - (I knew quite a few who were happy. I just wasn't one of them.) - Look at Seth � he's a basket case over that boyfriend of his. And Harry � how miserable is he? Not that any woman would want him either. And Ray, stickin' his dick out and wanting Augie to blow him. They want everybody to be like them, they imagine straight guys like you and Augie wanting to have sex with them. What the fuck's wrong with that Ray, anyway � he's barmy. We meet him, he tries to pass himself off as a rancher named Cody Benson. Then his real self comes out, and he's a raving sex maniac. I must say you were pretty level-headed with Leo yesterday, most blokes would have slugged him one. - (I would have shagged him one if I hadn't held in my impulses.) - He's such an irresponsible boy. He'll come wandering in at midnight, I suppose. If he doesn't, Lord knows what I'll tell Beatrice. - I don't think he's coming back, Ed. - What do you mean? Of course he's coming back. - Paul isn't back. - Paul � there's another one. Fuckin' fairy. Strips down to a jockstrap. Seth tries to cover up for him, says he wasn't wearing a jockstrap. They cover up for each other, let me tell you. . . . Look, sorry to unload on you like this, but I've been holding all this in ever since I met Seth and Harry on the beach. First two people I meet and they're both fudge packers. Lord. Ed was right about one thing � Leo WAS an asshole. There ARE gay assholes, after all, and I don't mean the body parts I like to stick my dick into. Lucas was another. We come in all varieties, good and bad, just like straight people. But Ed needed to cut Seth and Harry some slack. And Paul. And me. And Tim. And maybe Dai and Vic, if my instincts are accurate. The first person I saw when we reached the tower was Vic. He came trotting up to us, his face wrinkled as he realized that Leo was not with us. We shared the story of finding the location of the amber dodecagon, but not the dodecagon itself, and no trace of Leo. - Do you know where Harry is? I need to tell him about Leo. - (Vic) He's inside. Why Harry, not Seth? - I'm assuming Seth isn't back yet. He's off � - (Ed) Yeah, I know what he's off to. Lookin' for his pansy boyfriend. Ed stomped off inside, where most of the others seemed to be. Tim (pantsless) and Dai (shirtless) were chatting on the other side of the tower, so I knew that the other group had returned. - I guess we won't need to tell Harry now. - Harry'll probably come out to talk to you. Once Ed stops ranting. - Vic. You were watching out for Ray, right? - . . . Right. - Ed said that when he first met him, he'd pretended to be someone else, Cody something. But � it's more than that, isn't it? I mean, sometimes Ray is this wild, crazy, oversexed gay dude, and sometimes he's all Gary Cooper, just staying there and not doing much, acting modest � and homophobic. It's like he's two different people. - He IS two different people, Jasper. The decawhatzits, they have some kind of effect on him. I mean when we met him he was Cody Benson, rancher from Texas. Then the yellow decawhatzit flipped the switch, and he was Ray trying to seduce Augie. The green one seemed to switch him back. He's changed a few times. - Dual personality? - Harry says there's a third one, named Gary. He thinks Gary's the original person. I think Harry's the only one who's ever met Gary. - I want to meet this Gary. I wanted to fuck him, too � but I wouldn't. * * * * * * * * TUESDAY, DECEMBER 4 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � HARRY I woke up this morning. I looked around, hoping against hope that Seth or Leo had returned. No. Neither one. Only nine of us woke up in the tower this morning: Paul is probably dead, Leo's missing, and Seth hasn't returned from his quest to find Abe. Oh, please god, let nothing have happened to Seth. He is our leader, what would we do without him? He's treated me like his right-hand man, but I'm not ready to take charge. I mean, look at me. Big fat slow Harry, in charge of all these fit, sexy, masculine men? Hardly. Not after my failure yesterday. I should have kept everyone together. Instead, I'm responsible for Leo vanishing. But somebody has to take charge when Seth is not here. Who has leadership skills among us? Vic had the physique of a natural leader, but he didn't seem anxious to get involved. Jasper might have the right qualities, but then he'd let Leo walk away when he should have kept an eye on him. Ed was out of the question � his issues with Leo would get in the way. Dai? A possibility. Tim I didn't know well enough. Augie and Gary/Cody/Ray were obvious nonstarters. The one person with the assertiveness to be a leader was Lucas. But there was something creepy about Lucas. I couldn't put my finger on it. If there was a man with secrets, it was Lucas. He'd told Leo that `if I had you in Chicago, I'd . . .' and when Leo pressed him to finish the sentence he'd said, cryptically, `you don't want to know'. Jasper told that story with the same feeling of creepiness. `I don't want to know what he meant by that'. FLASHBACK � LUCAS (CHICAGO) � May, last year - My name's Ernie. - Lance. - You're cute, Lance. - (grinning) So I've been told. - I'm not cute. - No, `cute' isn't the right word for a guy like you. The right word for you is `hunk'. - So I'VE been told. - You don't look like an Ernie. - My first name is Lucas. I use that sometimes, and sometimes I use Ernie. Tonight, I feel like Ernie. - Well, this is Chicago. Ernie's a name with good vibes. - Ernie Banks, sure. Mister Cub. - `Let's play two'. - So, Lance, if `hunk' is the right word for me � and I won't disagree � what is the right word for you? - I'm guessing you're going to say `twink'. - When I find a really cute twink, I call them a twinkie. I could survive on a steady diet of twinkies. - Hmmm, you want to eat my hole? - I'll fill it with cream, like the twinkie you are. (Grabbing his crotch) Like what you see? - . . . Definitely. - You can see it without the leather covering if you come with me. - (a bit cautiously) Sounds good. - You can taste it, too. - (less cautiously) Sounds very good. - Of course, I'd like a taste of yours, as well. - (grabbing his own crotch) I think that's only fair. A dick-for-dick exchange. - Yes, but Lance, I don't play fair. I take charge. Are you ready for that? For a real man? - Try me. - How about two real men? - . . . Uh � - You just said `let's play two'. Want to play WITH two? - Are you . . . do you mean that? Two guys? - I have a partner. We like to play together. Two tops, one bottom. You into that? - I . . . I've never done that. - Never been spitroasted? One cock in your mouth, another in your ass? - No, it sounds . . . - Judging from the bulge in your pants, the next word out of your mouth should be `exciting'. - Yeah! - Let me call my friend. We're going to spitroast you, my friend. And it will be the highlight of your week, if not your life. - I'm in. - My car's just outside. Lance would be number nine: halfway to our goal. ORANJESTAD, ARUBA � MILES Jen had left this morning, needing to get back to her job, but Jordan was staying the full week she and Augie had originally booked. I had a surprise for her � only to find she had a bigger surprise for me. I knocked on her door and was let in by a handsome guy who looked like Jordan's twin brother. - I'm sorry. I . . . (wait � he looked too much like Jordan to not be . . .) Jordan? - (smiling) Surprise. - . . . Your voice is the same. - My face is the same, except for the make-up. Hair's a little different, though. - . . . I, uh, don't know what to say. - So good not to have to use Nair on my face every day. Do you think I should grow a beard? - Jordan . . . I mean . . . - It's a relief, Miles. Augie never knew, any more than you did. It's a long, long story. I was going to have the operation if it ever got to the point where we got married, but � - What do you mean, he never knew? He hasn't ever seen you with . . . you know � - My clothes off? No. You don't know Augie, he has a strict religious background. He would die if he . . . oh, Jesus, what did I just say? - It's all right, Jordan. - It's not. Oh Miles, I do love him. I loved him so much that I wore the wig and I wore the falsies and I wore the makeup and I wore the dress. I was willing to be a woman for him. But for him. Not for me. And now . . . there's no reason to do that anymore. - . . . My God, Jordan, that's a huge sacrifice to even contemplate. - Well, before I met Augie, it wasn't like my cock was the epicenter of my sex life, anyway. - You were having sex, then, with guys. - Of course. I liked giving blow jobs. I liked taking it up the ass. And the kind of guys I was dating they � they weren't all that into reciprocating. And I didn't mind it that much because I wanted their cocks and didn't really care about mine. I'm an attention slut in reverse. All I want is to satisfy them. That's what makes me happy. - I'd say that was admirable if � - If it was. But it's not. It's pathetic, Miles. I have to have some self-respect. These last six months with Augie have made me realize that I loved him enough to do this, but at the same time it made me realize what it was about myself that made me willing to do this, and that wasn't such a good thing. So, I'm in pain and I'm relieved at the same time. Which makes me feel like shit. - Well, maybe this will make you feel a little less like shit. - What? - We got a response from Stimulever. - Really?! What did it say? - `Do nothing. Do not contact the press. Our representative will arrive in Aruba later today.' - Oh Miles, that's fabulous! You know what this means? - Yes. We've got to contact the press. - Precisely. That's what they're afraid of. - We've got to find some local investigative reporter. No use going to the New York Times yet. Get a local story published, then maybe the big boys will pick it up. - How should we go about that? - Leave it to me. I'll do some research, see if we can get in to see somebody today. - Oh, one other thing, Miles. Jen texted me from the airport. You know how she always made fun of the name `Stimulever'? - Yeah, she said it sounded like competition for Viagra � stimulate your lever. - She was fooling around with the letters and discovered it's got a weird anagram. - What's that? - `Multiverse'. THE BEACH - ABE I saw a shape, walking slowly toward me on the beach. It was too tall to be Al. Stan? Maybe. Any of the other passengers would be fine. I realized how much I needed company. I needed someone to be with, to forage for food with, to strategize with. Someone to unload on, to share my sorrow over having lost Seth, to share my faint, faint hopes that somehow � somehow � he had survived just as we had survived. Someone to � Oh, shit. It was Percy. Percy, who had raped Theo. Percy, who was � I don't know what, but he was dangerous. That much I knew. - Derisian! He knows me by my last name. Like from a passenger list, not from having talked to me, though we all shared our first names that night on the beach. - Derisian, thank God. We've been looking all over for you. Yeah, I'll bet. I was a good hundred feet from him, and I wanted to run. - There's a helicopter on the other side of the island. Everybody's there. We were just waiting for you! Like I believe that. - Wait up! It was now or never. I started to run. I looked back and Percy was running hard, as hard as I was. He was taller than I and had a longer stride. If I kept running along the beach he would catch up with me eventually. I had to cut inland. There was a fairly steep rise up from the beach, though, and I'd have to scramble up it, which would take longer than it would for him to run towards me. Could I get up top in time? I looked back and he was closer, but then he stopped to pick up something. Now was my chance. I zagged toward the incline, the sand pushing me back toward the beach as I scrambled up the side of the rise. I looked back and saw he was closing in, but I was close enough to the top that I could get up before he got to me; and then he'd be slowed down by having to climb up through the slippery sand. One last glance and he was only about twenty feet from me, but he had something in his hand, whatever it was he'd picked up. But now I was just two feet from the top, three more steps, two � There was a sharp pain in the back of my head. The sand came rushing toward my head as my feet slid out from under me. There was another blow. And everything went dark. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER SIXTEEN � SIX FLASHBACK LIMIT PER CHAPTER]
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-34	Date: Wed, 1 May 2024 18:17:10 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 34 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR: INTO THE WOODS Previously, on the island's surface: * Sean informs Ian that all of the left-siders must die and charges him with arranging it. Ian is also to make sure that The Twelve meet their dates with the dodecagons. * After Ian tells Vic that Al and Miles had sex underground, Vic follows up with Al, who reveals that Miles had bragged about fooling a boyfriend into thinking he loved him. This revelation crushes Vic and foments resentment toward Al. * On Harry's birthday, December 17, Seth chooses Jasper for his mandatory daily fuck. Harry is disappointed, wishing to have been chosen. After Ian reminds him of another humiliating episode in his life, Harry, convinced of his worthlessness, seeks out the dodecagon; Seth tries to stop him but fails. Underground: * Punished by Hamish for their role in Leo's unsuccessful escape, Theo and Piers are put into `permanent' bondage in a chair that fucks them for hours on end. Theo is later freed and is on the surface. * Ed is initiated by four lieutenants, led by Mac (dentist Ryan Mackenzie, with whom he had had past encounters); he (temporarily) loses several teeth in the process. * * * * * * * * MONDAY, DECEMBER 17 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � JASPER I saw Seth emerging from the woods. This morning, I had agreed to bottom for him, but instead he had gone off into the woods with Augie (??). Later, after talking with Ian, he inexplicably made a mad dash into the woods, from which he was just now returning. - Ah, there you are, Seth. I'm ready, whenever you are. - What? He looked rather dazed, his mind clearly elsewhere and not on sex. My mind was ALWAYS on sex, and even though I was more accustomed to being the fucker and not the fuckee, I looked forward to conjoining with another male human for the first time in nearly three weeks. - I'm ready. We have a date, remember? - . . . Oh, that. Yes, of course. Give me a while longer, okay? Okay, this was not the Seth I knew. He looked as if his puppy had been run over by a bus. - Seth, what's wrong? What happened? - . . . Harry. - What about Harry? - He's gone. - (Huh?) What do you mean, gone? - I mean gone gone. Dodecagon gone. - How is that possible? He knows to stay close to � come to think of it I haven't seen him for a half-hour or so. - I don't know what got into his head. Ian said Harry was so depressed he decided to surrender to the dodecagon. He actually went out in search of it. - And Ian let him? - That's what really bothers me. Ian let him. I don't know, Jasper. Sometimes I wonder if Ian isn't a double agent. Between him and Sean, I thought Ian was the one I could trust. - Shit. Harry. Wow. - Those fucking dodecagons win every time. Somehow they manage to get us. - We got Augie back. They didn't win that one. - Jasper, I needed Harry. He was my conscience and the voice of reason. He figured things out. - You can figure things out, Seth. I'll help if I can. - Well, I know one way you can help. You can help me meet my obligations. - Are you sure these are really obligations? I don't trust Sean. - I can't risk it, Jasper. Anyway, why would he tell me to do stuff I don't have to do? What would he have to gain? . . . Give me a half hour and we'll go into the woods, okay? - Sure. THE DARK ROOM � HARRY I fell for over twenty feet, through the earth, into a black abyss. I braced myself for a fall that might break multiple bones in my body. I was startled to find myself coming to rest on a chair, undamaged. Instantaneously, straps flew out from the sides of the chair and secured me, like demonically-possessed seat belts. I protested to the darkness. - Fuck, I can't move. - You'll get used to it. Whoa. I was not alone. I couldn't see anything in the pitch black atmosphere. But then, remembering stories told by the escapees, I realized where I was � and who I was with. - Piers? - . . . How do you know my name? - They told me up top. You're Theo's friend. - Omigod, Theo � he made it? - He made it, Piers. He's fine. - Thank heaven. Oh, you've made me so happy. Theo's alive, he's safe. - For now, anyway. I don't think these guys down here will give up so easily. - That guy Seth � he's up there too? - Yeah, they all are. All six of them. - I don't think Seth will give up so easily either. - No. He wants to rescue Abe. This chair is damned uncomfortable. - They'll come and get you eventually. By then you'll be used to the dildo. - . . . Dildo? - You landed on a dildo, right? - No. Why would I? - Everyone else has. Like they just dropped onto it and it went straight up their ass. You're sure you're not sitting on one? - I think I would notice a dildo up my ass, Piers. We continued to get to know each other over the course of the next hour. He told me about his friendship (just that!) with Theo and the theater company they ran in Nassau. I was more circumspect about sharing my history, as I didn't have a history worth sharing. Mid-conversation, I heard some kind of machine start whirring and Piers started grunting. - That's the fucking machine. It'll ram me for the next four hours. You arrived during my break. - What? You're being fucked by a machine? - Dildo on a stick. In and out, in and out, four hours at a stretch. Theo didn't mention that? - No, he just said he was in bondage in this dark room, with you. An odd sensation hit me � jealousy. I was jealous that Piers was being raped by a machine � and I wasn't. The door opened. Even without seeing more than a shadow, I recognized the man who spoke to me: - Hello, Harry. Nice to see you again. - Hello, Uri. Wish I could say the same. Is this the point where you dump barbecue sauce over me? It wasn't. Instead, he freed me and led me out into the overly bright hallway. - Okay, Uri, I know about the Fuck Rooms. Go ahead, take me there. - Not on the agenda. Every member of the Twelve has a special role to play. You're our virgin. I don't know why, but we have orders to keep you that way. From what the others had reported, everyone down here was raped several times a day. And yet the curse of my virginity seemed to have followed me even to this haven of rampant sexuality. No wonder there was no dildo on my chair. . THE WOODS � JASPER My balls tingled with excitement. Just walking through the woods with Seth made me stiff as a board. For the first time in nearly three weeks, I was going to conjoin my body with another man's. I had defined myself through sex for the last dozen or so years of my life. "Pedicabo, ergo sum." I buttfuck, therefore I am � apologies to Descartes. (Didn't think Latin had a word for `buttfuck', did you?) I was nothing unless I had sex, and I had it as often as possible. My self-esteem fell through the floor if I had two consecutive nights without getting any action. It was the reason I was on this trip � the experiment to see if I could go a week in a sexy location (Aruba) without sex. Well, I'd now gone seventeen days without sex, on the most erotically-charged island on the face of the planet. It had been torture, abated only by focusing on the issues confronting us � survival, understanding the rules under which this bizarre world operated, and promoting unity among the group. Lately, I had another cause � to help Gary accept himself as he was, instead of retreating behind his other personalities. I felt good about that. Seth was the sexiest man in this sex-crazed world, and I was walking through the woods in the nude, in close proximity to his nude, testosterone-infused body. I was about to put all that triumphant celibacy behind me � as Seth was about to put his triumphant phallus behind me. My pride over seventeen days of abstinence was complicated by guilt over desiring an end to it so intensely. But, God, I wanted sex. My body ached for the touch of another man's skin rubbing against mine, for the aroma of his balls, for the feel of his engorged member in my hand, for the moment when that member plunged into me, even if I would have preferred it the other way around. But I'm more than willing to bottom for a sexy guy. And Seth fit the bill in spades. - How about here? You can get down across that log. - Ah, a `Deliverance' moment. - What? - Never mind. Just don't tell me to squeal like a pig. - Jasper, what are you talking about? - Man, how can you never have seen `Deliverance'? Hot homosexual rape scene, even if it was fat Ned Beatty who got himself done. I shouldn't have said that. The use of the word `fat' only reminded him of Harry, and the sting of his loss was clearly permeating Seth's brain. I knelt on the ground, knees on either side of the log, and draped myself over it. Seth spit onto his fingers, then crouched behind me. I sighed in ecstasy as one of those fingers slipped into my hole, a sensation I hadn't experienced in a long time. It was all I could do to keep from creaming right then and there. I spread my legs further, giving him a first-class view of my anus. He spit onto it directly, and then worked it in slowly to lube me up as well as he could. - Ready? - (Was I!) Yes, go ahead. Said in such a nonchalant way, as if this was a casual thing, and not something I craved. And then I felt his cock � his mammoth cock � pushing against my hole. I pushed back, letting him in; once past my sphincter, he rammed it in to the hilt, sensing that I wouldn't want it gently. Oh, god, it was so right! His manhood and my pussy fit like they were made for each other. Round peg into round hole. Round peg driving into round hole. Round peg pounding the hell out of round hole. He built up his tempo, thrilling every nerve ending in my bowels, and, despite my cock being pressed against a fallen log, it was as hard as that log and itching for release. He pumped in and out of me, time after time after time, and I started to pant in excitement in rhythm with his powerful thrusts. I had never been vocal during sex, but I was letting it all out now, virtually yelling my encouragement with every assault. I knew I was going to come before he did, and my semen spewed over the log well before he had finished drilling me. He didn't notice, and I didn't care. I just lay there, loving every second of it. I sensed his acceleration as he neared climax. And then he fell on top of me, spent, as he allowed his manjuice to irrigate my ravaged rectum. It was sheer bliss, and the feel of his chest on my back while he was still inside me � man, I wished I could freeze that moment for all eternity. He pulled out and pulled up, as I continued to lie there, only now conscious of the chafing my cock had endured from being pressed against the log. It didn't hurt � it was sheer pleasure. Having consummated the act near the stream, we washed ourselves off and dried ourselves as best we could with leaves from nearby trees. - Seth? - Yeah? - Thank you. - I . . . You're welcome, I guess. But I didn't do it for you, I . . . had to . . . - I know. But it was wonderful. Could I ask a favor? - You can ask. - Would you kiss me? A frown came over his face. Again, I had said the wrong thing. - Look, Jasper. We had to have sex today and I enjoyed it, I really did. But the next man I kiss is going to be Abe. Do you understand that? I did. - Of course, Seth. Sorry, I was being selfish. I . . . Why don't you go back without me, I'll wait a few minutes. It will draw less attention to what we just did. Also, I wanted some time to relive the experience. I lay down across that log, embracing it, and spread my legs, as if Seth was going to invade it a second time. It was so peaceful, and my thoughts so sexy and so calming, I could have lain there for an hour. I lay there for maybe three minutes. Then I felt a hand on my ass. Seth WAS going to invade it a second time! And then legs by my legs. Then, without warning, my hole was invaded. Omigod, I was in for round two! But it didn't feel the same. It wasn't the same. This was not Seth's cock. - Mighty neighborly of you to spread your legs for me, Jasper. - Ray! - You nailed it! And now I'm nailing you. You sure were having a good time with ol' Sethy. I followed you out here, very nice fucking he did. I figured if I stuck around, I could get sloppy seconds. No lube necessary with his manjuice inside you. Dammit, I didn't want to have sex with RAY! I fought back against this unwelcome rapist, half-aware of my hypocrisy. Seth I would have welcomed inside me like a flower welcomes a pollinating bee. But it was not Seth, it was Ray pollinating me and I was outraged. I wriggled and tried to push up but Ray was strong, taller and heavier than me, and very determined. And, given his position on top of me, he had all the leverage. Eventually I realized the safest course of action was to just let him have his way. It was sex, after all; I enjoyed sex, and it felt good. Not ecstatic, like with Seth, but still good. Afterwards, I felt overwhelmed with guilt. I don't know what Ray was feeling. But he paid at least a small price for his efforts. When we washed off the residue of our sex in the nearby stream, Ray had to to leave his jeans (originally mine) and Sean's shoes (the `community shoes' which Ray had appropriated) on the bank. And when we emerged from the water, they were gone. THE DORMITORY � ED I had waited all morning, while the others were extracted from the dormitory for sexual use. Paul was collected by Anthony, who came equipped with a cane and an erection. Dai had been escorted away by four big men who, he said, would force him to ejaculate repeatedly until he had run dry. That didn't sound like much of a torture to me, but Dai said to trust him, the chafing on his cock was painful � besides, they were simultaneously fucking his throat. But for me � nothing. So I was immensely relieved. And at least � as I had been promised � when I woke up, I had a full set of teeth and no residual pain, in my mouth, arse, or anywhere else. I assumed, having survived this brutal initiation, that nothing so drastic would befall me today. And, despite Paul's and Dai's stories of being assaulted on a daily basis, I was left alone in the dormitory all morning. Optimism abounded. Until after lunch, when he came for me. Mac. I trembled as I entered the Fuck Room and found ten other lieutenants all waiting for me. Surely, I was not to be victimized by all of them. Surely. Mac explained. - Ed, you're a member of what we call The Twelve. One by one, you will all eventually find your way down here. Each by a different colored portal shaped like a dodecagon. And I hope you appreciated the image of a tiger as it collapsed beneath you � you were born in the Year of the Tiger, were you not? Just as each of you has a unique portal, your punishment down here is similarly individual. Paul, for example, must perpetually wear a jockstrap. Dai is milked beyond his capacity. - Leo? - Leo we played a fun game with � we each shot our loads into his mouth from three inches away, then weighed him to a thousandth of a gram. The three who increased his weight the most earned the right to play with him for an hour or so. - I suppose he enjoyed that. - Not especially. Leo didn't like the taste of semen. Or having his balls in a vise while he was being squirted into. - So what's in store for me? - A chase. Rather like Hide `n' Seek. We'll give you a head start. Each of us will pursue you separately, trying to catch you. No fair pairing up, it's every man for himself. To catch you, he must hold you in his arms for five solid seconds; only the first to find you and call out your name is allowed to catch you. Once he has, you must return here, where twenty-five swats of this prison strap will be administered to your admirable posterior � if you resist at any point, the penalty will be doubled. Then the game begins anew until ninety minutes are up. Every lieutenant who catches you is entitled to a fuck � and you will lose a tooth for every man who has fucked you. Of course they will regrow overnight � provided you store them internally. You can predict what happened. There were fourteen men pursuing me, and not that many places to hide. I headed straight for the dormitory, knowing they would easily find me there, but hoping I could make myself difficult to catch by scrambling around the beds. It didn't take long for the one named Atticus to find me � and once he did, none of the others were allowed to come in. I managed to hold him off for a good ten minutes � I have always been fast and nimble, and I leapt over beds and scurried around the room until he finally cornered me and held me in his arms for the requisite time. It was useless to fight, so I dutifully subjected my arse to the strap. I was sore after the third blow, and there were twenty-two left after that. It was all I could do to rein in my impulse to scream my bloody head off. And then I was released, to play this game again. I headed straight back to the dormitory, and so did my pursuers. This time, with a pulverized rump, I was less nimble than before, but still managed to hold off the one called Patrick for several minutes. I had the brilliant thought of hiding in the Dark Room, obscuring my location, but didn't realize there was a light switch, turning this into a game of pure evasion between myself and Penn. I am pretty good at evasion, however, and decided this would be a good place to return to, if I had a fourth round. I did. I also had a fifth. Which meant a hundred and twenty-five whacks on my beleaguered backside, and five sodomites assaulting my hindquarters. And worst of all, the loss of five teeth. I had thought Leo foolish for trying to escape, but the prospect of this kind of torture being repeated daily evoked in me far more sympathy for his efforts. Although, compared to me, he had gotten off easy. But then that was Leo's life experience, wasn't it � getting off easy, while his old man pays the price. THE DORMITORY � HARRY My reception was somewhat mixed. - (Paul) Harry! Come here, give us a hug! - (Dai) God, Harry, it's good seeing you � but I wish we weren't. - (Ed) I see your leadership skills had the predictable results. You couldn't even save yourself, could you? - (Dai) Jeez, Ed, like you could have? Like we can control anything on this island? Give the guy a break. - (Ed) All you nancy-boys stick together, don't you? Ah, so Ed was still sticking to the homophobia theme. When I was pretty sure he'd swung from both sides of the plate in his lifetime. I noticed something when he spoke. - What happened to your teeth? - (Ed) Got `em in this little pouch. If I swallow them, they'll be back in the morning. - (Dai) Only he swallows them in the other end � right, Ed? - Ian told me about the auto-repair thing. So my bruises � - (Paul) Will be gone tomorrow morning. Looks like they worked you over pretty good. They had. I would be sleeping on my stomach tonight. - (Ed) So how do you like being buggered? - . . . I don't want to talk about it. - (Ed) Ah, not so much, eh? - I said I didn't want to talk about it, Ed. How could I tell him that I had not been fucked, that I wanted to be fucked, but that privilege � something I had longed for my entire life � was being withheld from me, even in a place so homoerotic that an entire universe was created for it. Even here, I can't get laid. Surrendering to that chartreuse dodecagon was a big mistake. THE WOODS � GARY The water was a shock. Maybe I needed a bath, I wasn't sure, as far as I remembered I didn't stink, but then I'm not around all the time. Cody or Ray must have decided he was dirty, probably Cody. Anyway, I just found myself in the creek. I didn't see my pants around anywhere � wouldn't Cody have worn them out here for his bath? All of a sudden I became aware that I was not alone. About fifty feet downstream from me, Jasper was also bathing. Had I come out here with him? Jasper was my friend � the best friend I had, and I was glad to see him, but I was surprised that either Cody or Ray would have accompanied him. Although we were fifty feet apart, not exactly together. That was peculiar. I decided I was clean, stood, and wandered downstream. Jasper didn't look happy to see me. In fact, he looked downright angry. - Hey, Jasper. Did you � could you explain how I got here? His face suddenly changed. All the enmity disappeared from it, replaced by something kinder. - Gary? - Yeah. I just found myself in the creek. I don't know why. Do you? Did we come out here together? He took a long time to answer, as if he didn't remember. - No, Gary. I came out here with Seth � every day he has to . . . you know. - Yeah, I know. - And so I was washing up afterwards. - Where's Seth? - He went back. I wanted a little extra time, alone. - But you weren't alone. I'm here. - You weren't. Cody was. He came here after Seth left. He said he wanted a bath, too. - Where are my pants? He didn't wear them out here? - Uh, yeah, he did. They vanished, Gary, while he was bathing. THE WOODS � JASPER I wasn't about to tell Gary that one of his other personas had just raped me. He still looked confused, like he wasn't sure why Cody would let Gary emerge when all he was doing was taking a bath. Well, Cody probably wouldn't have, but Ray didn't want to face me after raping me, and it probably amused him to stick Gary with the follow-up. We air-dried for a few minutes, and then headed back to the tower together. Gary looked overwhelmed and confused, like a lost dog in a rainstorm. I felt like I had to reassure him everything was okay - an odd feeling, supporting a man whose cock had just raped me. The double fucking had made me sore, and I wasn't walking normally. I told him I think I pulled a muscle somehow. Seth was surprised to see the two of us together, and expressed concern that I hadn't come back earlier. He noticed the awkwardness of my gait. - You okay, Jasper? I didn't � - I'm fine. That muscle I told you I pulled earlier � still bothering me. Gary went out for a bath � well, Cody did � but Gary came back with me, helped me a little. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH Okay, Jasper had said nothing about any pulled muscles. He was lying � to keep the truth from Gary? I was pretty sure Gary knew about my sex requirement � he might have been Cody when I first revealed it, but Harry said he would make sure all three personalities were informed. But Jasper seemed to be protecting him. Jasper had been trying to encourage Gary to be Gary as much as possible, and must have been afraid that direct talk about sex would make Gary retreat and bring out Cody, or even Ray. I nodded, but I was surprised that Jasper had been walking as awkwardly as he had. True, I had fucked him vigorously, and my cock is larger than the average man's � but I hadn't thought the sex would hurt him that much; he certainly seemed to enjoy it while it was going on. THE PHALLIC TOWER � VIC - (Ian) You know, Al wasn't exactly telling you the truth. - He didn't have sex with Miles? - Oh, no � he did. But he lied about being straight. He's gay as they come, Vic. And they didn't force him to have sex with Miles. He initiated it. They don't care down there if you have more sex than they force on you � and Al exploited that. He and Miles � well, I don't know if the feeling was mutual, but Al reveled in burying his cock inside Miles. And believe me, he didn't do it just twice before they cut him. It was more like half a dozen times. Down there you can have almost unlimited orgasms � Al did Miles as often as he could. - The story he told about Miles having fooled his boyfriend � - Pure fabrication. Miles is still in love with you. I talked to him, Vic. He adores you, believe me. - So why didn't Miles refuse Al's advances if he still loves me? - Refusal is not an option down there. Even to a fellow prisoner. - Why didn't you tell me this before? - I didn't want to confront Al in front of you, and then you walked away. Since then, I guess it slipped my mind, with all the concern about Harry. THE PHALLIC TOWER � IAN I think he bought it. THE PHALLIC TOWER � VIC This was starting to make sense. Al's story hadn't seemed credible. Okay, Miles HAD seemed a little distant when he came to the island, but I couldn't believe he would diss me like that, saying he'd been stringing me along for months. No, Miles was in love with me. And Al was a fucking liar. I couldn't believe anything that little shrimp said. I was going to have to do something about Al � but what? [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE � ONE DOWN, TWO TO GO]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-45	Date: Sun, 16 Jun 2024 20:11:51 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel <[email protected]> Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 45 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 – a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE: THE THREE FACES OF GARY Previously: * Seth is required to fuck one of the Twelve each day. After Tim's departure on the 23rd, his options are limited to Jasper and Gary – Seth doesn't want to use Gary because of his multiple personalities. Jasper, `scheduled' to arrive underground on December 29, persuades Gary to take over his role when he leaves. As Seth is fucking Gary, a dodecagon appears nearby and captures Jasper. [Author's Note: This chapter picks up just after the events described above, although the previous chapter included events underground a day later. Also, I'm well aware that the events in this chapter (and elsewhere) are an egregiously inaccurate depiction of dissociative identity disorder. Hoping you'll cut me a little slack for my psychiatric transgressions. I mean – this is fiction, right?. Artistic license and all that? – T.C.] FLASHBACK – GARY (KANSAS CITY) – August, this year - Gary, I've been informed that your uncle Atticus has just been released from prison. - . . . - Has he tried to contact you? - . . . - How do you feel now that he's out? - . . . - Gary? - . . . Guess again, doc. - Ray. - Happy to see me? I'm always happy to see you. If you'd lift your ass out of that chair I could see your most attractive feature. - Ray, do you have any reaction to his release? - He's probably upset. I'll bet ol' Atticus got some high-quality booty in stir, doncha think? - You think he enjoyed his time in prison? - Hell, yes. All those fish primed to become punks. I'm a bit jealous, to tell you the truth. - You sound like you admire your uncle. - Why not? Seems like a real man to me. - He murdered his lover when you were twelve. - So they tell me. - You don't remember. - I wasn't there. - Gary was there. - Was he? You'd have to ask him. - I was going to, but he disappeared. - Well, that's Gary for you. Total fucking coward. * * * * * * * * SATURDAY, DECEMBER 29 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER – SETH As nervous as Gary had been beforehand, he genuinely seemed to enjoy the ride. Behind me, I vaguely heard Jasper grunting, as if vicariously joining in the fuck, but I was so concentrated on driving my cock into Gary's virgin hole that it barely registered. - Congratulations. You are one good fuck. - (Gary) Thank you Seth. I wasn't sure I would like that, but I did. Jasper, did you . . .? But Jasper was not there. Before I could process this, Sean (whom I had asked to give us privacy) came running up to us. What the hell? - You call this giving us privacy? You were supposed to go for a walk. - (Sean) I kept my distance. - (Gary) Where's Jasper? - (Sean) You didn't see what happened? - Don't tell me that – - (Sean) While you were fucking, the vermillion dodecagon appeared right here. - It got him? - What do you think? - I think you could have stopped it. - Seth, he's supposed to be underground. - Gary, I'm sorry, I – - (Gary) What the hell just happened? My ass is sore as hell. What did you two do to me, you goddam perverts? Dammit. Gary's gone; hello, Cody. I wish I understood where Ray and Cody had come from. What had happened to Gary that had made them necessary? FLASHBACK: GARY (LUBBOCK, TEXAS) – twenty-three years ago - And then what happened, Daddy? - And then, since he was three years old – just like you – the magic cow granted him three wishes. Which, being a wise little boy, he saved up for when he really needed them. - Tell me another story. About the magic cow. - I'll do better than that. I'll give you your own magic cow. Well, it's not really magic. It's a toy cow. A stuffed animal Mommy got for you. - Wow! Thank you, Daddy! - What are you going to name it, Gary? - Can I name it anything I want? - Anything you want. It's your cow. - . . . I'm going to name it Cody. - That's a nice name. Why Cody? - It was in that other book, the man named Buffalo Cody. - Buffalo Bill Cody. - A buffalo's a cow, right? - Not exactly. - Well, I think it's a cow. And I'm going to name him Cody. THE PHALLIC TOWER – SETH - I'm taking a walk. My herd's somewhere on this island and I'm going to find them. - Cody – - Don't try to stop me. I don't know how you talked him into it, but you ain't doing that to ME. He stomped off, his gait awkward. - (Sean) Cody! Here! Sean ripped off one of his socks and tossed it to Cody. - The penis gardens should be off, but just in case. Cody donned the sock, nodded his appreciation – to Sean – and continued on his way. - (Sean) He'll come back, Seth. He always does when he doesn't find his herd. - He might not. He's worried that I'll fuck him tomorrow – which I have to. - I'll see if I can order up a thunderstorm. Give him incentive to seek shelter at the Tower. - You can do that? - (smiling) I can do a lot of things, Seth. Including you, if you're in the mood. - I'm not. FLASHBACK: CODY (KANSAS CITY) – August, this year - Cody, I want to explore when you first started living with Gary. What's your earliest memory? - This is going to sound stupid. - Go ahead. - Smoke. I remember smoke. All over the dang place. - That's the first thing you can remember? - I don't remember anything before that. - You might say you were born then. - Maybe. - And then? - Then, I don't know. I was living with Uncle Atticus. I remember going to school sometimes – I was maybe six? Not a lot, Gary went to school most of the time. That's all I remember until I was about twelve. I've been with him ever since, pretty much. - So something happened when you were six – something involving smoke. - I think the smoke was earlier. - And something happened when you were twelve. - Not to me. - To Gary. - You'd have to ask him. - Cody, at our next session, I'd like to try hypnosis, see if we can't recover those lost memories. - Hell no, doc. You ain't doin' that mumbo-jumbo with me. - It might help you find your cattle. - . . . You think so? FLASHBACK: GARY (KANSAS CITY) – a week later - How old are you, Gary? - I'm six. - You seem troubled. What's bothering you? - Uncle Atticus yelled at me. - Are you living with him? - Uh-huh. - Why did he yell at you? - A teacher called him to complain. She said I was pretending to be someone else. - Who were you pretending to be, Gary? - She said I told her my name was Cody. But I didn't. I wasn't even at school today. - Where were you? - I don't remember. But I'd have remembered if I was at school and lied about my name. - Is the name Cody important to you? - I used to have a stuffed cow called Cody. - Used to. What happened to it? - I don't remember. But Uncle Atticus knew about it and gave me another stuffed cow the next day. - Did you name him Cody? - I didn't have a chance. Uncle Atticus tore off his head and made me eat it. - He made you EAT it? - Uh-huh. It made me throw up. - Gary, why are you living with Uncle Atticus? Where are your mother and father? - I don't remember. - Do you remember an incident involving smoke? - No. - Okay, Gary. . . . I'm going to bring you back to the present. . . . (a minute later) I think we made significant progress today. I want you to come back tomorrow – I'll clear space in my calendar – and continue this. We need to go a little further back into your childhood. THE PHALLIC TOWER – SETH Cody returned just before sunset. I decided to be deferential. - Any luck? - Luck? - Finding your herd? - Jesus, Sethy, do you think I'm fucking Cody? That puppy is sick, I tell you. So – today's the twenty-ninth – Jasper still here? - No. A dodecagon got him. - I thought you were protecting his ass. - I thought so, too, Ray. But it appeared right about where you're standing. - Shit. I'm going to miss Jasper. He has a nice ass. - You had an active sex life in Kansas City? - Hell, yeah. Not that the others ever knew. Cody – I think he'd fuck his cows before he'd touch another human being. Gary would take it up the ass if he had the balls to bend over. - He had the balls this morning. - What – you telling me he got himself fucked? - He volunteered. - Shee-it. Tell you the truth, Sethy, I felt a little sensitive in the old shit-chute myself, and was wondering why. - Could I talk to Gary? - So you can fuck him again? No way, dude. Not when we're sharing the same ass. You ain't seein' him any time soon, I'll make sure of that. - You sure you can control that? - Between me and Cody, we can. Yeah. - You talk to Cody? - Let's just say I'm aware of him. I know what he wants. And he won't want your dick up Gary's ass any more than I do. With that, he retired inside the tower while Sean, who had witnessed this conversation from a few feet away, came over for a chat. - (Sean) Sounds like Ray can't control Gary by himself, he needs Cody to keep him inside. - That's how I interpret it. But how does that help? - If we could get rid of Cody, I think we could get Gary to come out. - Get rid of Cody? How the hell are we going to do that? - Maybe by giving him what he wants. - Huh? - Let me make a phone call. FLASHBACK: CODY (KANSAS CITY, MISSOURI) – July, this year - So Cody, what makes you think your herd has been stolen? - Do you see them anywhere? - No, of course not. - Well, then. They've been stolen. - Cody, you're in my office. A herd of cattle wouldn't be in my office. - Well, they're goddam somewhere, doc. All I need is to find them, and then – - And then . . . ? - I could rest in peace. I could go away. I wouldn't need to bother him. - You wouldn't need to bother Gary. - That's right. - You would leave him. - That's right. THE PHALLIC TOWER – SETH - So, Sethy, rumor has it that you and Sean play a little bury-the-bone. And you're the girl. - . . . You can't believe everything you hear, Ray. - (grinning) That wasn't exactly a denial, Mister Boss-man. You been cheatin' on your catamite Abe with ol' Sean, haven't you? - Abe is not a catamite. He's my lover. - And he's not here right now. While the mice are away, the cats do play, right? - You've got that backwards. - I think Sean's got you. . . backwards. Back door, anyway. - Why are you asking me this, Ray? - Because if you'll let HIM fuck you . . . - (laughing) Dream on, Ray. - Come on, Sethy. You're not really my type, but I'm desperate. I can't do Sean, he'd rat on me to his bosses. And since you ARE willing to be the girl, I thought – He stopped, his gaze wandering over my shoulder to the meadow behind me. - Ray, it's good you stopped that sentence, because the end of it wasn't anything I was going to – - What the fuck??? - What? What is it, Ray? - There's never been animals on this island. Not even a mosquito. - Sparing us all from the threat of malaria. What of it? - (pointing to something behind me) THAT. I turned around to see what he was pointing at. Holy shit. Or, perhaps more appropriately, `Holy cow!' FLASHBACK: GARY (KANSAS CITY) – two days after last August flashback - Gary, you missed yesterday's appointment. We're doing really important work now, it's important that you be here every day. - I wasn't around yesterday. I think Ray had a painting job. - Ray knew about this appointment, too. - He makes most of our money, Doctor Lapidus. I don't know how I'd support myself without him. Cody could cover if Ray's not around, but I'm a terrible house-painter. Is this hypnosis thing really so important? - It might be the key to everything. . . . (minutes later) I want you to go back to your earliest memory of Uncle Atticus. When you first met him. Let yourself go back in time, you are six, you are younger than six, you're not living with him yet, you're just meeting him. - Yes. - How old are you, Gary? - Four. - Is Uncle Atticus with you? - Uh-huh. - Who else is with you? - Daddy. - What are they doing? - They're fighting. - Fighting? About what? - Mommy. I think she's sick because Uncle Atticus said she was hot. Daddy said Uncle Atticus should leave her alone, and Uncle Atticus said that was okay by him, he'd rather do men anyway. - Do you know what he means when he says that? - Unh-uh. I think it means fight them. Because Daddy and Uncle Atticus got in a big fight and started hitting each other. And Daddy fell on the bed. - And then what happened? - Uncle Atticus told me to leave, or he'd take away Cody. - Cody, your stuffed cow? - It's my cow! Daddy gave it to me, he can't take it. - I understand, Gary. And then what? - I left. THE PHALLIC TOWER - SETH There was a calf grazing on the meadow. A calf. As in, a juvenile bovine creature. This one appeared to be of the Jersey variety. I turned to Ray, who was trotting out toward it. - Ray? No response. I watched as he neared the calf, who seemed unperturbed by his approach. He stopped, stroked the calf's back, then knelt down to embrace it around the neck. No wonder he didn't respond. That was not Ray – the appearance of the calf must have triggered the transition to Cody. The only other inhabitant of the Phallic Tower approached me with satisfaction. - I see my little experiment was a success. - That's what you meant by `giving him what he wants'? - Yep. I'm going to order up the rest of the herd. - How did you know what his herd looked like? It could have been Holstein or Black Angus or – - Hell, Seth, CODY didn't know what it looked like. What this proves is that Ray is not as strong as he thinks he is. We've mostly seen Cody come out when there was something that made Gary uncomfortable. Now he's come out for his own sake, when he saw something he wanted. Ray can't control him. Ray may not be the strongest of the three. - Cody is. - And if Cody goes away, it gives Gary a chance. THE MEADOW – CODY I've never been so happy in my entire life. The pursuit of my herd has finally come to an end. I saw that calf – that little helpless calf, alone without its mama, grazing in the grass. And I had to take care of it. It needed me. It needed protection. What if it wandered onto a penis garden? It was so wonderful to see that calf – I just knew the rest of the herd had to be around somewhere. But I couldn't leave the calf. I thought about the parable of the Good Shepherd, who leaves the flock to go after the one lost sheep. I couldn't leave my one calf to pursue the flock. I must have gotten lost in thought, because all of a sudden I heard lowing. And when I looked up, there it was! The herd was a mere hundred yards away. The whole damn herd! I ran back to Seth to share my excitement. He said Sean had arranged for me to get my herd back. I approached Sean and thanked him and explained to them both that I was going to leave. - (Seth) You're leaving? - Gary's going underground on Monday, and he'll take me with him. I can't leave the herd here by themselves. They need me. - Where will you go? - Back to the ranch. Back to Texas. - (Sean) That's an excellent idea, Cody. You go on ahead. I'll send the herd after you. - You can do that? - (Seth) He got them here, didn't he? - Wow. Thank you so much, Sean. Say goodbye to Ray and Gary, won't you? Though I don't think they care for me much. - Will do. Good luck. THE PHALLIC TOWER – SETH I had never seen Cody so radiant, so joyful. When I thought about it, I wasn't sure I'd ever seen him smile. Well, he was sure smiling now, romping in the fields for one last time with a set of Beta-cows. THE MEADOW – GARY What was I doing in the meadow with a bunch of cows around me? COWS? On this island? It's like I'd wandered into Cody-world. Maybe that's exactly what had happened. But how did they get here? And then, in an instant, they were gone. Was it just my imagination? Probably. I felt very insecure, not knowing what was going on, and headed slowly back in toward the Tower. And then it struck me – I was not right. Something was missing. There was like a big void in my head, I just didn't feel normal. I felt weak and was aware of Ray's presence, getting stronger and wanting to take over. But Cody . . . Cody wasn't there. At all. It was like a giant space had been cleared out of my head. Things became suddenly clearer. There was just me and Ray. I couldn't ever communicate with the others, but I always knew they were there. And Ray was still there – but Cody wasn't. He was gone. Completely gone. It felt so liberating. I didn't miss him at all. FLASHBACK: GARY (KANSAS CITY) – two days after the last flashback - . . . Why did you go into your mother's room? - She was yelling. Uncle Atticus was hurting her. - How was he hurting her? - He was lying on top of her and hitting her. And he didn't have any clothes on. - What did you do? - I told Uncle Atticus to stop hitting Mommy. And he hit me and knocked me down. And then he got up and his wee-wee was broken. - Broken? - It wasn't hanging down like it's supposed to. It was sticking out. - And then what? - I ran away. I didn't want him to hit me anymore. * * * * * * * * SUNDAY, DECEMBER 30 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER – RAY Gary usually accedes when I want to take charge. Probably that's because when I want to take charge there's often something sexy is going on, like a nice view of somebody's ass. And since Gary is a catcher and not a pitcher – and, more importantly, a wuss – he lets me take control. But this morning he seemed stronger, and I wondered why. Then it hit me: Cody wasn't there. What the fuck happened to Cody? Whatever. No way I was going to let Gary out this morning – Seth wanted to do him up the ass again, and THAT was not going to happen. I figured to spend most of the day in the woods, where they couldn't find me. You ain't getting MY ass, Sethy. FLASHBACK: GARY (KANSAS CITY) – one day after the last flashback - How old are you, Gary? - Four. - Is Uncle Atticus there? - Uh-huh. - And you smell smoke. - Yes. - Okay, Gary, I want you to go back a little further that same day. What did you see? - . . . I don't like this. - Okay, Gary, it will be okay. - I'm scared. - You'll be okay, I promise. What do you see? - Uncle Atticus and Daddy are yelling. Daddy was saying to leave Mommy alone. And Uncle Atticus laughed and said he'd leave her alone from now on. And Daddy said `why are you laughing' and Uncle Atticus said `you'll see'. And then Daddy hit him. And that made Uncle Atticus real mad and he said he'd kill Daddy and his folking kit. I don't know what a folking kit is. - I think he meant you, Gary. Then what happened? - Uncle Atticus hit Daddy hard. And Daddy fell on the bed and wasn't moving. And then Uncle Atticus started taking off Daddy's clothes. And he told me to leave. - Did you? - No. I told him to leave my daddy alone. And then he said he would show me what a real man was and started taking off his own clothes. And his wee-wee was all broken again and he climbed on top of Daddy and put his wee-wee into Daddy's bottom. And Daddy started to yell. - What did you do? - I went to get Mommy. THE PHALLIC TOWER – SETH Sean and I were waiting for him. We weren't sure which version of Gary we would see this morning. I hoped it was Gary, and prayed it wasn't Cody. I was hoping Cody was gone for good. Gary/Ray/Cody emerged from the tower. He looked disappointed to see us. - Well, well, well, what have we here? A welcoming committee, here to wish me good morning. Mighty nice of you. Shit. Ray. - (Ray) If you boys don't mind, I'm going to find that banana grove. The ones we got here are turning brown. - (Sean) Maybe later. We have business to attend to first. FLASHBACK: GARY (KANSAS CITY) – continued - You went to see your mother. - . . . - Gary? - . . . She's not moving. She doesn't answer. - Is she asleep? - There's a knife stuck in her. - . . . A knife? - I took it out but she didn't wake up. - Then what did you do? - I went back to get Daddy. But Uncle Atticus was kneeling on him and his hands were around Daddy's neck. He was shaking him, and then Daddy didn't move anymore. Uncle Atticus saw me – and he got real mad. And he started to chase me, without his clothes on. - Where did he chase you? - To my room. I wanted Cody, I wanted to hold him. - Your stuffed cow. - Uh-huh. But Uncle Atticus grabbed him away from me. And then . . . - And then what, Gary? - He took Cody and (starting to cry) he ripped his head off. He ripped Cody's head off! (sobbing) And then he . . . - Then he what, Gary? - He shoved it . . . He shoved it up my heinie. - He shoved the cow's head up your rear end? - (crying) It hurt! - I'm sure it did, Gary. But . . . take your time . . . how did the fire start? - (sobbing) - Take your time. - . . . He . . . He grabbed my hand and went into the kitchen and he got this can out and he took me back to Daddy's room and poured it all over Daddy's back. And then he took Cody and poured it all over Cody. And then he . . . (sobs) - Then he what, Gary. This is important. - He struck a match and lit Cody on fire. And he threw him on Daddy's back. And Daddy started to burn up. I was screaming and he smacked me across the mouth and told me to shut up. And then he took the can and he threw it on Mommy and then all around the house. And then there was smoke everywhere and it was hot. And then . . . I don't remember any more after that. FLASHBACK – DR. LAPIDUS (KANSAS CITY) – October, this year That session had produced a breakthrough – I now understood the trauma that led to the creation of Cody, if not Ray. While Gary had, under hypnosis, revealed the circumstances of his parents' death, he seemed ignorant of it in real time. In fact, he was shocked when I mentioned it, and said he must have been dreaming – Atticus couldn't have killed his parents or they would have sent him to prison then. But the authorities hadn't known that Atticus Onslow had murdered his brother and sister-in-law. He'd claimed not to have been there, and was even seen driving up to the house an hour later along with his nephew. The incident was blamed on an unidentified intruder; no charges were filed. Gary had only two living relatives and Atticus, the only one in Texas, was given custody of the boy, even though he was only twenty-three. Eight years later when he was arrested for the murder of a man named Christopher Ford, allegedly his lover, the circumstances were so strikingly similar to those surrounding the deaths of Gary's parents that the earlier crime was reinvestigated, without resolution. Gary was transferred to the custody of his only other living relative, his mother's sister, here in Kansas City. In Texas, there is no statute of limitations on any serious crime, much less murder. With sufficient evidence, Atticus could have been remanded to prison for murdering Gary's parents. But the eyewitness testimony of a four-year-old rendered under hypnosis would never be admissible and the case couldn't be prosecuted. I contacted the Texas authorities out of concern for Gary's safety; initially they said that Atticus Onslow was still resident in Texas, and as long as he remained so, he was no threat to Gary. Last month, they informed me that he had purchased a round-trip ticket to Trinidad and hadn't used the return half. THE PHALLIC TOWER – SETH - So, Ray, ready for some early morning sex? - (Ray) You think I'm going to submit to you? Fat chance. - (Sean) If you don't, the Project will fail and you'll be in for the most miserable year of your life – and maybe the last one. - (Ray) You mean Gary is. - (Sean) If Gary dies, so do you. - (Ray) You're bluffing. - Well, if you won't let Gary out, why not Cody? Let HIM take it up the ass. - . . . - What? Is something wrong, Ray? - Cody. . . . I can't find him. - (Sean) That's because he finally found his herd. He left with them. - You're shitting me. - (me) No, we're not. And we're not shitting you about the sex. - Just you try it. - I will. We will. I think Sean alone could probably take you – I KNOW I can, and the two of us together? - Okay, okay, you win. I'll let Gary get himself fucked, you're not doing me. - . . . - . . . - What's the matter, Ray? - . . . I don't know. Gary's staying inside. - (Sean) We told him to. We want to do you, Ray, specifically you. FLASHBACK: GARY (LUBBOCK, TEXAS) – fourteen years ago My cock was all tingly and the feel of my hand on it was the most incredible sensation. I began to stroke it, calmly, thoroughly, and then less calmly and more rapidly. I was working myself into a frenzy, this newfound sensation being among the most amazing experiences of my life. - You think I don't know you're beating your meat, boy? Shit. I hadn't seen him come in. I released my cock and scurried to pull up my pants. He smiled at me, a nasty smile, and tossed me something. - I got you this. Thought it might bring back some old memories. I froze. It was a toy cow. It brought a tightness to my chest. I'd had a toy cow when I was little, hadn't I? - You remember Cody, don't you, boy? Cody. Yes, that was the name. I had loved that stuffed cow like it was my best friend. What had happened to it? Maybe I'd outgrown it and he'd given it away. He tossed me the cow. Emotion poured over me. I don't know why, but I was suddenly filled with love for this cow. It struck some kind of chord in me that I didn't understand. I was starting to cry. - Are those tears, boy? Crying's for sissies. Show me you're a man, son. - . . . How? - Look at the cow, boy. I tore you an asshole. Fuck it. - . . . What? - Fuck the cow. Come on, you were beating your meat, you want to shoot your load, shoot it into the cow. If you're a real man, you'd fuck a bull. But I don't see any balls on that thing, so it must be a steer. Fuck the steer, boy. - Uncle Atticus – - Fuck it, boy! That's an order. I'll make a man out of you yet. Fuck the fucking steer. I knew that stuffed animals didn't have feelings, but I didn't want to stick my dick into it. It felt mean, it felt cruel, it felt – - FUCK IT! It felt good. I was horrified, but it felt good. I plunged my penis into the rear end of that steer, and manipulated it up and down my stiff rod, the excitement picking up where it had left off minutes before, and building. And at the same time, I hated it. I loved it, I hated it, I felt such guilt as I felt such pleasure and then things just started whirling around until . . . I blacked out. FLASHBACK – RAY (KANSAS CITY) – September, this year (two weeks after Gary's hypnosis session) - Glad you showed up, Ray. It's been a while. - Can't stay away from you too long, doc. You're too pretty. Why don't we just forget all this talking shit and just fuck? You like it up the ass, don't you, doc? - Ray, what's the first thing you remember? Your earliest childhood memory. - That's easy. Fucking. - Your very first memory is fucking? - Well, not a guy. - A girl? - (snorting) Hardly! A girl, jeez – how disgusting. - Then what? - A stuffed cow. - How old were you? - Twelve. - And you don't remember life before that. - Doc, is there life before fucking? If there was anything, it's not worth remembering. But I don't remember anything before fucking that stuffed cow. FLASHBACK – RAY (LUBBOCK) – fourteen years ago (moments after Gary's flashback) God, I loved it. I was pure sensation, pure drive, pure pleasure. It was very strange because I had no memory of anything at the moment, it was like being born, and if life was all like this, it would be fabulous. I kept stroking that cow and shoving it onto my dick, faster and faster, harder and harder, as Uncle Atticus looked on, grinning, seeing the pleasure I was deriving from the experience. - See, boy, I knew you had it in you! And then I shot my wad. It made the steer all sticky inside, but I didn't care. It was the most wonderful experience – fucking – and I wanted more of it. THE PHALLIC TOWER – SETH Ray stared at the two of us, knowing I was right that we could take him. He took two steps backward, then pivoted and started sprinting. He was fit, and I was bulky but not slow – and Sean got a quick start and ran him down after about fifty yards, leaping toward his legs to fell him like a strong safety tripping up a wide receiver just short of a touchdown. I caught up to them a few seconds later and pounced on his back. - Okay, Ray, you're not going anywhere. You're going to get fucked, like it or not. - Gary! Gary, you like this! There was a pause. - What's the matter, Ray, he's not rescuing you? What do you think, Sean, should I fuck him dry or lube his hole with some spit? - (Sean, enjoying this) I don't know, ordinarily I'd say fuck him dry, but – just in case Gary does pop out, better lube him up. - (Ray) Fuck you, Seth! - (Sean) I've always found it ironic that men about to be raped always call out `Fuck you'. - (Ray) Fuck you! - (Sean) Case in point. Sean sat on Ray's back, facing me, while I positioned myself behind Ray's upturned buttocks and pushed his legs apart. I parted his cheeks and spit several times into his hole, massaging it with my finger while he squirmed his displeasure. I was going to enjoy this – I always enjoyed fucking, but doing it to Ray was going to give me extra pleasure. I maneuvered my cock into his crack and pressed it against his hole. - No, please! - Sorry! (I didn't mean it.) In it went. My long, thick cock penetrated the same tight asshole that it had plumbed yesterday, and yet Ray felt like more of a virgin than Gary had. I knew it was all psychological, but as I slid my length up his anal canal, I felt like I was having sex for the first time. - Oh, God, it hurts! - Gee, I should have told you to push back like you're shitting. It would have made it easier. I plowed away at him for several minutes, having a good time, when suddenly . . . - Oh, God, that felt so good, Seth. Why did you start without me? I stopped in mid-ass. - Gary? - (Sean) Go away, Gary. Bring Ray back. - Why? - (Sean) He needs to experience this. I didn't know why, but I sensed this was true. - Oh, shit, I'm back. Seth, stop fucking me! - Welcome back, Ray. - This is . . . Something weird is happening. - Yeah, it's called taking it up the ass. - No. . . Something weird in my head. I . . . I remember stuff. FLASHBACK: RAY (LUBBOCK) – fourteen years ago (continued) - Good job, boy. You fucked that steer real good. Now it's time for you to fuck a human being. - You want me to fuck a person? - Sure. My friend Chris likes taking it up the ass. But first, you're going to find out what it feels like. - What? - Take your pants off, Gary. - I . . . I'm not Gary. - You're not Gary. Are you playing games like you did when you were six, pretending to be a boy named Cody? - I . . . I'm not Cody. - Well, whoever you are, take your fucking pants off. THE MEADOW – SETH - What did you remember? - I . . . not as long as you're fucking me. I think he meant for me to stop fucking him. I chose to interpret it as he'll explain after I've bred him. So I continued plowing his ass until my sperm built up to the boiling point and then gushed all over the inside of his soft comforting rectum. He grunted his disapproval the whole way, and as I got closer I drove into him harder and harder and his protests grew stronger and stronger until he started to cry. Ray, macho Ray, was crying. - Okay, Ray, now spill it. What did you remember? - I . . . Uncle Atticus did something I don't want to talk about. I resolved never to let myself get . . . to have that happen to me again. And it didn't . . . until now. . . . It brought back other stuff. - What other stuff? - Chris was my uncle's boyfriend. Uncle Atticus made me fuck Chris. I liked fucking Chris. But when they wanted to do stuff I didn't like, I let them do it to Gary. If Cody was around, he'd disappear the moment anybody mentioned taking clothes off. - Cody was there? He came back when you were twelve? - Came back? I thought he was born then, like I was. - No, he was with Gary from the age of four. For a while. - Whatever. Chris lived on a farm, and we started having our games out there. Three-ways, Uncle Atticus called them. And he always made me bring my stuffed cow and fuck it before we did anything. One day I refused and Uncle Atticus got mad and said if I didn't fuck the cow he'd have a cow fuck me. And he stuck his hand into a cow's vagina and smeared it all over my asshole. And then he brought in this bull . . . - Ray, I don't want to hear this. - It didn't happen, what you're thinking. At least, I don't think so. I blacked out in the middle, and when I came to, the bull wasn't anywhere around. And Chris was all bloody. . . . - How did he get bloody? - I don't know. . . I do. I was there. Wait, he had just contradicted himself. - You do or you don't? - I do. Ray doesn't. - Gary? - Yeah. - What happened? - I didn't remember this until just now. Chris pulled the bull off me before he could do any damage – at least I think so because I didn't wind up in the hospital. And Uncle Atticus got mad at Chris and picked up a pitchfork . . . Oh, yeah, I remember that, too. - Ray? - Yeah, I remember now. . . . So do I. . . - Wait, who am I talking to? - Gary. Ray. - You're BOTH there? - (Gary) We both remember. Uncle Atticus picked up the pitchfork and stabbed Chris with it. And Chris died. Then Uncle Atticus poured lighter fluid on Chris. It was just like my father. He burned down Chris's house. - (Ray) Only this time he didn't get away with it. They caught him. - (Gary) He made me get dressed though so they didn't know about the three-way. - (Ray) And you weren't about to tell him. - (Gary) You weren't, either. This was incredible. The two of them were talking to each other as if they were in separate bodies. I was astonished that after a while I could tell who was whom. Sean was marveling at it, too. - (Sean) You're both here, and you're both conscious. - (Ray) Confusing, isn't it? - (Sean) What if you merged? - (Gary) Merged? - (Sean) Ray, you like active sex. Gary, you like passive sex. They're both part of you. You're both sexual beings. It looks like you've both accepted that – that's why Cody isn't here anymore. He was the part of you that pretended sex wasn't important. But it is, just in different ways. If you merged, you could enjoy both kinds. - . . . (Ray) I'll think about it. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER FORTY-SIX – APPOINTMENT(S) WITH DESTINY]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-27	Date: Sun, 7 Apr 2024 13:12:38 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel <[email protected]> Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 27 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 – a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: NOW THAT I'M HERE – I WANT OUT Previously, on the island's surface: * Seth, convinced they need to change tactics, intentionally allows himself to be speared by a penis portal and taken underground, leaving an insecure Harry `in charge'. * During a laundry expedition, Vic and Ed spar over race and sexuality, setting in motion a chain of events culminating in Augie and Jordan's capture by a dodecagon. The clothes they were washing vanish, depriving the group of most of their remaining apparel. Underground: * Augie finds himself covered with feces, and fucked by Barry in that state. * A left-sider is gelded with each arrival of a `Twelve'; the latest to suffer that fate is Al Casey, whose follow-up execution was postponed by Seth's arrival. * Paul's cotton jockstrap has been replaced by one made from Leo's skin; sharing a room with Dai and Lucas, he finds himself the nightly object of Lucas's attentions. * After Seth lands underground, Jesús is contacted by a panicked Hamish. Jesús tells him to take no action, and orders his staff to determine how this event has affected `the physics'. In flashbacks: * Ed, in Atlanta, dines with Leo and unexpectedly meets a man named Orson, who claims to have known him at Cambridge. Orson offers to bring him a hooker; Ed declines, but when he returns to his room, he finds his bed occupied – by a man. * * * * * * * * WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 12 * * * * * * * * ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND – JESÚS - Look, we've got to keep this short. This is so critical we're bypassing the usual procedure to talk in real time. But we can only stay in Beta for a few minutes. So listen carefully. Re-calibration indicates we can still proceed if the Trigger is gone within three days – by the fifteenth. But you have to get him to the surface, and it has to be his own idea, he can't be forced. He may want to take others – let him, as long as he doesn't take Derisian or more than one Twelve. He has a prior relationship with one of your lieutenants – Ian O'Leahy. Have O'Leahy engineer the escape with Herrick – give him the code for the Egress Room. - Niemann Senior's due tomorrow. We'll get out of balance – should we push Herrick out before then? - No. He might interfere with Niemann's arrival. You can tolerate a short-term imbalance, and if Herrick takes others with him, you'll go back under your limit. - We gelded two yesterday with the double arrival. There's no precedent for allowing a eunuch to live more than a day. Should we chop them both? - Thibaut checked on that. You can do one now and the other later, no worries. - We'll do Casey – he was an insurrectionist. - Fine. Listen, it might be best to rerun simulations after Niemann Senior arrives, make sure the physics haven't been altered. So gear O'Leahy toward an escape on the fourteenth. - The fourteenth, got it. ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND – SEAN That was not a conversation I wanted to hear. But Jesús had invited me to listen in, along with Ari, Thibaut, and Paolo. Ari, ever-militant, chastised Jesús for postponing one of the executions. I disagreed, but had to be careful. If the Project failed and Jesús was voted out, Ari wanted to take over, and had promised me second-in-command if I backed him. Ari had my back – I had to have his. I contributed my two cents: - Jesús, maybe we should send someone to the island after Seth goes back on top. Monitor the situation, make sure he doesn't do anything that would alter the physics. - We'll have Ian. - Can we trust Ian? He's dated both Seth and Abe – he might be a double-agent, for all we know. Actually, I'm the double-agent. - (Paolo) Sean's idea seems sound, just as a precaution. Thibaut? - (Thibaut) I don't see any reason why our presence should alter anything. Sean didn't disrupt the physics before by going to the island - it was Murdock and King. - (Ari) I totally endorse this idea. And I think you should send Sean. He has a prior relationship with the Trigger, he'd be in the best position to influence his behavior. Thank you, Ari. - (Jesús) Agreed. We'll send Sean – but only after Herrick returns to the surface. And I'll get Herrick to sabotage the Project – without anyone realizing I've done so. THE THRONE ROOM – IAN That was not a conversation I wanted to hear. But Hamish had invited me to listen in, knowing my prior relationship with Seth. He figured I needed to hear whatever Switzerland had to say about how we were to handle him. - You think you can handle this? Organize an escape? - You want me to escape with him. - Absolutely. Keep an eye on him when he's up top. - He'll want to take Abe. - You heard them - absolutely not. Now, don't rush this, Ian. Don't fill his head too early with escape plans, he'll get suspicious. Remember, he has no idea that you're even here. For the fourteenth, you'll need the even-day code. It's 2-4-8-7-5-0-1-3-8-7-4-9. If you forget it, run the powers of two from one to twelve, and add the digits; if the sum is over nine, just use the last digit. Got that? - Got it. Two to the eighth power is 256, and 2 + 5 + 6 = 13, so the eighth digit is 3. But I have a question, if you don't mind, sir. - Go ahead. - I heard him authorize you to, ah, dispatch one of the new eunuchs. - Yes, I chose Casey, what of it? - Sir, may I ask you to spare Casey? He's friends with my sub, Stan, and I don't want to upset him. - Casey tried to escape. He needs to pay a price for that. - He did – he sacrificed his balls. Sir, it would be such a favor – after all, you're asking of me a considerable task . . . which, um, I'm sure you'd want me to keep confidential . . . - Ah, Ian, you ARE a player; I salute you. Very well, Casey may keep his head. But eventually – - Yes, and eventually Stan as well. We both just need some time to adjust. - Never let it be said that Hamish is without mercy. - You are indeed a wise ruler, sir. Oh, lay it on thick, Ian. That was so fawning, it was worthy of Hamish's dog. Still, it got the job done. Now I had to make sure both Stan and Al escaped with Seth. I wasn't sure how long I could save them – and I'd sacrifice Al in a flash – but keeping him alive would earn me brownie points with Stan. And I was determined to save Stan. THE WHITE ROOM – SETH Finally, I heard a click. The door opened. At last, someone had come to acknowledge the fact that – several hours ago – I had arrived here. Wherever `here' was. I had spent the last few hours speculating on what I would see when finally I was released from this space – would the door open to a new universe, or my old one? Would I find myself back in Cleveland? Would I be wearing clothes when I passed through the door? Or – if still on the island, would I encounter a familiar face – Leo or Paul or Lucas or Dai or Augie or Jordan or Miles? . . . Or Abe? A man entered. He wore a mask, so that I could not discern his identity. Otherwise, he was as naked as I was. It was not Abe's body, which I knew intimately. Too tall for Paul or Dai, too white for Miles, too buff for Jordan. The others? Conceivable, but why would they be masked? - Get ready for a shock, Seth. It was too late. The shock had already set in. I knew that voice. I hadn't heard it in over a year, but I knew that voice. - Ian??? He took off his mask. He was smiling. - You remembered. How nice. - Ian, what are you doing here? Are you – am I – does this mean I'm dead, after all? - (laughing) No, no, you're alive. - What world is this? - I'm told they call it Betaworld. - Am I still on the island? - You are. - So when I fell, I didn't enter a different universe. - Nope. Same universe, same island, just underground. - So I'll go back to question one – what are you doing here? - (a grin) My flight to Martinique never made it – just like yours to Aruba. I've been working for a man named Hamish – he's in charge here, with his husband Percy. You'll know them when you see them – they're the ones with clothes. - I don't believe it. What are the odds that you and I would both – - Hardly coincidence, Seth. It was by design. - Harry was right. We were specifically selected for this, weren't we? - Yes. - Why? - (a rueful smile) I don't know that, Seth. Something big is up, but it's not something they share. It seems I'm stuck here indefinitely, so I suck up and do what I'm told. Ours is not to reason why – - Don't end that phrase, it has the word `die' in it. . . . Ian? - Yes? - . . . I'm afraid to ask this. - Fear never got questions answered, go ahead and ask. - . . . Is Abe here? - Yes, Seth. He's here. - Is he okay? - He's alive, he's – well, he's healthy. - But . . . ? - But he's a captive. - Like you. - Not like me. I work here. I have a job to do. - What job is that? - I'm a top. - . . . This place is all about sex, isn't it? We felt it on the surface. Not just all the phalluses – the whole energy of the place is – - All about sex. Exactly. Everybody down here has sex. Multiple times a day. - And you're a top. Implying that Abe . . . - Isn't dipping his wick, he's being dipped into. - At least he likes being dipped into. But – - If it means anything, he's in rather a privileged position. Percy has made Abe his personal pet. He gets special treatment. He still gets fucked, but . . . others have it worse. - Can I see him? - I doubt it. Access to Hamish and Percy is by invitation only. - Sometimes you have to invite yourself. - I wouldn't advise that, Seth. Hamish is very powerful. You go barging in there like a bull in a china shop, you're apt to find out what the china feels like afterwards. But I have some leverage with Hamish, maybe I can arrange something. - Oh, God, Ian, please. - Let me see what I can do. Now, would you like to see the others? - The others? They're here – all of them? - They . . . all arrived here. You're assigned to the Twelve's dormitory. - The twelfth dormitory? Are there twelve of everything on this island? - Not the twelfth dormitory. The TWELVE's dormitory. You're one of The Twelve. That's what they call all of you who were on the right side of the plane. I don't know why. - And when they were captured, they all came here? - They did. Want a reunion? - Yes, please. He led me out of the room into a sterile looking hallway, out into a sort of common area, and into another corridor which led to a large room with a dozen beds in it – and three men who were astonished to see me. They came rushing up to me, hugging me, in what was an intensely erotic moment, as all of us were touching bare skin to bare skin. Both Dai and Lucas were completely naked; Paul was still clad in a jockstrap, although he seemed to have changed from a cotton one to one that might be leather or suede. I was happy to see these three members of what Ian called The Twelve. But there should have been five. - Where's Augie? - (Paul) He's not on the surface? - (Dai) We expected him yesterday – but when he didn't show up, we thought maybe he avoided the dodecagon. - He didn't. He got captured along with – well, I'll explain about that later. And Leo, where's Leo? There was a silence. - (Paul) Leo's . . . He choked up, unable to finish the sentence. Lucas smirked. And pointed mysteriously to Paul's crotch. * * * * * * * * THURSDAY, DECEMBER 13 * * * * * * * * THE DORMITORY – SETH I spent the night uncomfortably in the dormitory. Lucas stood by silently as I pumped Paul and Dai for details of their life in what they called Hamishland. It sounded gruesome, especially the degree to which injuries were inflicted on them, only to heal completely by the next day, enabling them to endure fresh assaults. They described the unsuccessful escape attempt, and then, briefly, that Leo had been executed for leading it. When they finished, Lucas had an amendment: - (Lucas) You forgot to mention how Paul told them to whack off Leo's head. - (Dai) Lucas, you piece of shit! That's a total distortion of what happened. Dai then filled in the gaps, explaining how Leo had tried to blame him for instigating the escape attempt, and how Hamish, intent on executing the ring-leader but not knowing which of them it was, forced Paul to choose one of them for execution. Paul looked like he wanted to melt into the floor during all of this. During the night, I kept thinking about Paul's jockstrap and the way Lucas had pointed at it when I asked where Leo was. And how the jockstrap looked like it was made of some kind of animal skin. . . . The room was pitch black when the lights went out; visibility was absolute zero. I fell asleep more quickly than I expected, but woke up when I heard Paul grunting. Intermittently, I caught wisps of words from Lucas like "Take it, bitch". I realized he was fucking Paul, three feet away from me. On the other side of me, Dai was awake as well. - He does this every night. He liked doing Leo also, but Paul's his favorite. I can't stop him. - I can. I got up and wrapped my arms around Lucas' heaving torso and pulled him off Paul. Lucas fought back, cursing me, but if there was one thing I was confident of, it was my strength. I threw him on the floor and stomped on a part of him I couldn't see, hoping it was his hand. - You do that again, and I'll fuck YOU in the ass, Lucas. I heard Lucas snort, and I punctuated my own remarks with a sharp kick aimed at where I thought his groin might be. - (Lucas) You don't get it, do you, Mister Thinks-He's-So-Tough? The way things are here. You're a captive, you get fucked a lot. Paul's used to it – happens every night and several times a day. - I can't control what happens during the day but as long as I'm here it won't happen at night anymore. - (Lucas) Then you best get out of here and quick, because this boy's ass belongs to me. - We'll see about that. A SHOWER STALL – AUGIE I don't know how, but I did manage to get some sleep, despite being chained up in a shower stall filled with excrement. During the night, they dumped more onto me so that the pile was about three feet deep. This morning four men approached, carrying a large burlap bag. They unlocked the padlocks holding the chains around my body, enabling me to slowly free myself. They then ordered me into the bag, warning me not to dirty the outside of it. Once I was inside, they pulled the drawstring tight. Was this good, or bad? Being enclosed in a bag was terrifying. They could do anything with that bag, toss it into a furnace or something. But maybe it was just because they needed to move me, and didn't want to get shit all over the floor. They carried me for some distance and then I landed with a thump. - (a voice) Jeez, does he stink. - (another voice) Well, that's what his orders are. Shit and enemas. So clean him up and clean him out. The bag was open, and I found myself in a large shower area, with tiled floors and walls. I thought, at least here I can take a shower and – whoa, what was that??? I was pushed back with such force that I hit the wall and fell. It was water, simply water, but shot with the force of a water cannon. I couldn't see because there was so much water in my face that I dared not open my eyes. - (the first voice) Turn around, bitch. I tried to stand up, but every time I did, my feet slipped and I fell down again. Eventually, I just sort of rolled over and, on all fours, presented my back half to the water, which continued to pummel me until I was sure that every bit of feces had been obliterated from my body. Not that I smelled good or anything. Hands grabbed me roughly and wrapped a bandana – or something like it – around my eyes. - Now we clean you INSIDE. And what seemed like a garden hose went up my ass. And a blast of water hit my gut so hard that I screamed. My tormentor laughed, and reduced the volume, but I was still filled so full, I thought it was going to pass through my entire body and come out my mouth. Indeed, I keeled over and felt I was going to vomit, then I felt myself being pulled away and put in a squatting position. The hose – or whatever it was – was yanked from my ass, and I expelled oceans of water into what I now perceived was a toilet. - This is your program, Stapleton. Every night in shit, every day you're our Enema Boy. Four of them a day, and only the first will be room-temperature. - What will the others be? - Let's let that be a surprise. When I finally felt I had expunged everything he had forced inside me, I was led – still blindfolded – to another tiled area where I was bombarded with sweet-smelling goo. Soap. Hands rubbed it all over my body, pushing so hard they might have been masseurs. - Can't have you stinking when we fuck you. THE PHALLIC TOWER – HARRY The tower seemed empty now. There were only six of us. I slept on the chartreuse wedge – the color of my danger dodecagon. This should have made me anxious, but it was somehow calming. And I needed calming. Ed and Vic had picked up last night where they had left off the night before. Ed was practically apoplectic over his upcoming birthday, and felt like Seth had abandoned him at the critical moment. And he was taking it out on me, for being the Seth-anointed leader, and Vic, for being Vic. Ed needed a target; he felt that when Miles and Jordan had shown up, everything had gone south. Vic was guilty by association with Miles. Vic, however, interpreted Ed's attitude toward him as racist and homophobic – in my humble opinion, justifiably. Tim approached me this morning and mentioned that it had been a few days since he and Jasper had bathed; they hadn't gone with us on that fateful day when Augie and Jordan disappeared while on a clothes-and-body-washing expedition. I thought: so you're leaving me with the volatile combination of Ed and Vic, plus who-knows-what-version of Gary, on a day when we have to be super-vigilant. Leadership. Seth trusted my leadership. Which meant making decisions like this. Well, here goes. - Yes, okay. Be quick about it, though. They thanked me and stepped outside the tower. Two seconds later, Jasper popped back in, an alarmed look on his face. - Uh, Harry? - Yeah. - I think you need to see this. Good God, what now? Had someone ELSE shown up? Or had Ed's purple dodecagon (which had yet to be discovered) spontaneously appeared ten feet outside the tower? Neither. When I passed through the door, I saw no stranger, no dodecagon – and nothing I recognized. Either the Tower had moved or the entire island had been rearranged. ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND – JESÚS - Sir, the geography has been reconfigured and the tower has been successfully moved. - Excellent. Now they're within range of the dodecagons they haven't encountered yet. FUCK ROOM C – AUGIE - (Voice 1) Which end of him do you want? - (Voice 2) I'll take his mouth. He's used to that. What did he mean, I'm used to that? He must have me confused with someone else. - (Voice 2) Lube him up good. His ass is practically virgin, Penn. They placed me on my back on a table. The one called Penn pushed my legs up over my shoulders and I felt him push the tip of his willy against my butthole. - Please don't do this! I don't like this. - (Penn) How often have you been fucked, boy? Can you count the number of times? - Yes. Two. - (Penn) If you can count the number of times, then you haven't been fucked nearly often enough. Don't worry. By the end of the month, you'll lose track. - Uggghhhkkk! - (Penn) For the record, your total is now up to three. - (Voice 2) And now for your mouth – open wide! - Mmmmph! - (Voice 2) That's the way. Take it all the way down, boy. Just the way you did at my uncle's ranch. - Ammmfmmmsmm????? - (Voice 2) Oh, you remember me, Augie boy, that's nice. Let's hope you remember how to suck my cock. - Ugghhkkk! - (Alfonso) Of course, you didn't have Penn fucking your ass at the same time. - (Penn) Yes – you're being Pennetrated. - (Alfonso) That's only the eighteenth time he's used that joke. - (Mmmmphh! Uggghhhkk! Mmmphgghhkk!) - (Alfonso) Yes, enjoy it, Augie. No Pastor Markson to worry about here. THE PHALLIC TOWER – HARRY Now what? We were low on food, and nearly out of water. Tim and Jasper volunteered to go on what Tim called a `recon mission'. Neither of them had birthdays anytime soon, so I agreed, advising them to report any dodecagons they saw, especially if they were purple – Ed's color, if the pattern held. So I was stuck with the bickering Ed and Vic, after all. At least Gary was Cody this morning, not Ray. - (Cody) I should have gone with them. Maybe they'll find my cattle. And I'm safe - his birthday isn't until the 31st. Of course, I don't plan to be here when they take him. - (Vic) Cody, when they take Gary, they take you, too. - (Cody) I just might take a long nap. It might be refreshing. No offense intended, but there's way too much sex in this place. - (Ed) Too much sex? (nodding toward Vic) He's the only one I know who's actually HAD sex. - (Cody) Seems like the rest of you want to. - (Ed) Nothing wrong with sex – if it's the right kind of sex. - (Vic) What is that supposed to mean? - (Ed) You know what that means. Time to rein this in. - Hold on, you guys. Ed, apologize. - (Ed) Bloody hell! Apologize to that uphill gardener? - (Cody) Uphill gardener – what's that? - (Ed) He likes to push the dirt uphill, if you know what I mean. Arse bandit, we call them. - Ed – - (Ed) But you – you're no arse bandit, are you? You're a bloody poofter. - (Vic) You leave Harry alone. He's not involved in this. - (Ed) The hell he isn't. All you bum chums stick together. The only thing wrong with this place is that there's too many bloody homosexuals. - Maybe we're all homosexuals, Ed. - (Cody) I'm not. - You're not. But Ray is. And Jasper says Gary is, too. - (Ed) What are you implying – we're `all homosexuals'? Oh, shit, I'd gone too far. Think before you speak, Harry. But it was too late now. - Ed, let's be honest. Look at all the patterns, all the twelves. Does it make sense that twelve men, selected for reasons beyond our understanding – would consist of eleven gay men and ONE straight? - (Vic) Yeah, we thought Augie was straight, until we found out different. - If you're holding something back – it's okay, we understand. - (Ed) Fuck you, Harry. I'm no bloody faggot. FLASHBACK: ED (ATLANTA) – September, last year (continued from Ch. 26) - Get out of my bed. I'm going to call the police. - No you won't, Ed. You liked it before. - What are you talking about? He switched on the light. - Ryan! - Ryan Mackenzie, at your service. But these days I go by `Mac'. It was an uncomfortable reunion, reminding me of that time back in Cambridge when we had drunkenly punted in the nude, and then, in the most shameful moment of my life – . . . well, it was a one-time event. But it haunted me. It haunted me. Because I had liked it. Ryan kept finding ways of popping up unexpectedly, though I hadn't seen him since I emigrated to the States eleven years ago. But every time I had run into him somewhere, lust in me surged. And every time, I overcame it. I confess that I even had those same feelings occasionally when examining a young man in my surgery. But I'd always managed to suppress them – homosexuality was an affront to God, after all. - I don't see you reaching for the phone, Ed. - How did you find me? - I'm here at the convention. Not that there are a lot of seminars for dentists. But I saw you on the speaker list, so I came. Orson plays the philandering husband well, don't you think? And no, he wasn't at Cambridge. It was all a ruse so that I could spend some time with you. - Ryan, you have to leave. I'm married, I have a son, I have a reputation, I have an image – - The image in my brain is of your cock rising when I touch you. Like it is right now. - Oh, shit. I can't control it. Dammit, Ryan, why did it have to be you? You're the one man who brings this out in me. I'm otherwise totally straight. - Sure about that? - . . . What are you doing? - Don't you like it? My mouth, your cock? Your cock sure likes it. And as for MY cock, well, if memory serves, your bum likes it quite a bit. - Ryan – - Shhh. Relax, mate. It's just you and me. No one's going to know. No one's going to rat on you to that bitch you married. No one's going to spread rumors about you at the convention. - Oh! Oh! Ohhhh, oh my god. - Beatrice doesn't do this to you, does she? - No. - Do you want me to stop? - No, keep going. This – this is wonderful. I – being with you, I – I don't know, I – - Shut up or I'll have to keep talking. And the more I talk, the less I can do . . . this! - Ahhhhh! Oh, god – keep doing that! THE WHITE ROOM – HAMISH - May I see him? I knew that would be among his first requests, so I met with him in the White Room instead of my quarters. - Derisian is, shall we say, occupied. Being occupied, if you catch my drift. - I need to see him. - You're hardly in a position to make demands, Herrick. You weren't due until the end of the month. - What do you mean, due? I don't have a December birthday. I don't have a dodecagon. - Yours is red. You wouldn't have seen it until we needed you to. But a foolish error gave you another path down here, and now there will have to be consequences. - What do you mean, consequences? - As Ian may have told you – or you've figured out for yourself – this place has its own rules. One of those rules is a maximum number of testicles this place can tolerate. When an extra guest arrives, their two additional balls push us over the limit. We have to adjust one of the left-siders. To keep it balanced, you see. He took a moment to absorb that. - And? - Your arrival means we'll have to empty another scrotum. I'm afraid it could be your friend Derisian. Of course I was lying through my teeth. The Trigger's balls didn't count against the limit. And Derisian was the last man we would choose to geld. But I had to stir the pot, didn't I? - So you're telling me that you'll castrate Abe because I got here too early? - That would be the gist of it, yes. Unfortunate, but you're here now. We can't let you go. - There have to be ways out of here. You left me those notes. And I saw someone on the beach – one of your lieutenants? Though he was wearing clothes. - That would have been Percy. Yes, there's a way out of here. Others have tried. They're still here. Though one of them got a little carried away – he rather lost his head. - Okay, so I've taken you over your ridiculous limit on balls. Wouldn't it solve your problem if I left? - Oh no, Mister Herrick. Once you're mine, you're mine. - I want to see Abe. - As I said, he's busy. Ordinarily, I'd have my lieutenants welcome you in the traditional manner, but you're not to be fucked. So go back to the dormitory and wait. I'll summon you when Derisian is available. - I'm not to be fucked. - Why, do you want to be? - No. But . . . why the special treatment? Why have I been singled out – the notes and the nudity and my name missing from the manifest, all that. Why me? - I'm sorry, I can't divulge that information. Just be grateful that you won't be raped several times a day during your stay. I dismissed him and called Ian over; I'd had him sit in on the interview but told him not to participate. - He'll be eager to escape now. And he'll try to rescue Derisian. I'll let them chat, but after that, we'll put Derisian on twenty-four hour guard. And not in my quarters – we'll switch him with Murdock. Herrick is resourceful, and might find a way of spiriting Derisian out of here – but not if he can't find him. - Understood, sir. THE PHALLIC TOWER – HARRY Tim and Jasper returned and reported they'd found water, barely a quarter of a mile from the tower's new location, which Tim thought was toward the south end of the island. They'd seen no dodecagons. Tim, previously clad in boxers, was now naked, and neither wore their shoes. Apparently, this was another case of unattended clothing vanishing, which meant there was only a single item of clothing adorning any of us – Jasper's trousers, which Gary was now wearing. They'd discovered some papaya trees, and told us how to find them. They'd only been able to bring back a couple, as they also had to carry the three filled water bottles and had nothing to carry the papayas in. - (Ed) I'll go get papayas. We don't need that many, just six of us left, thanks to your great leadership. - Don't be ridiculous. It's your birthday. - (Ed) Yes, thanks for all the birthday wishes. Look, Fallon – no dodecagons en route, right? - (Tim) No, but – - Ed, you can't take the risk. They move. Augie – - (Ed) Augie was a child. So was Leo. I'm forty-nine years old and I can take care of myself. Besides, I don't want to spend a minute more than I have to with Rear Admiral Torrance here and the rest of you ponces. - (Jasper) I'll go with you. - (Ed) No, you bloody won't. You're another of them. I'll take Cody, if he wants to go. There was a silence. - (Gary) Cody's not here. - (Ed) Oh, great, you're a bloody poofter, too. And with that, he stormed out of the tower. I started after him. - (Vic) Let him go, Harry. He'll cool down in a bit. - It's his birthday, Vic. The dodecagon – - (Jasper) Unless they can move in half an hour, he won't find one between here and the papaya grove. - (Vic) And if he does – well, he made his bed, as they say. - I can't – - (Tim) Look, we all know Ed's a pill. If he comes back, great. If he doesn't, it's his own damn fault, and – frankly, good riddance. Look what has happened to our harmonious little group. God, I'm a total failure. FLASHBACK: ED (ATLANTA) – September, last year (continued) - Do I get my turn, now? - Ryan, I've never . . . done that. Put a cock in my mouth. - You don't have to. Turn over. I'm going for a romp in your rump. I was putty in his hands. I flipped over onto my stomach as he lubricated my arsehole – he'd come equipped with lubricant. And then I gasped as his powerful tool penetrated my inner sanctum. Shit! Why, why, why was I enjoying this? Homosexuals were ruining the planet with their pride marches and destruction of traditional marriage – and here I was, mid-buggery, liking it. I stopped liking it the moment I heard the door open and footsteps enter the room. Ryan was on top of me and my face, pressed to the pillow, was facing away from whoever had just entered the room. - Having a good time, Dad? Leo! - I thought you disapproved of poofters, Dad. But you're quite the poofter yourself, aren't you? - Leo, I – ummph! - (Ryan) Shut up, Ed. We're here to make sure you realize who you really are – and the hypocrisy with which you condemn your son. - (Leo) I have dibs on him next, Mac. - (another voice) And then me. - (Leo) Yeah, that's Orson. In case you're wondering, he's not my lover. We're both tops. - (Ryan) Ed, you'll be quite the bitch tonight. You're even going to get done by your own son. A little incest just to spice things up. Now stop squirming, you're going to be here for a while. THE THRONE ROOM – ABE I have to hand it to him. He may have no other redeeming qualities, but Barry was about the best fucker I've ever experienced. Every thrust sent me into ecstasies beyond anything I'd ever experienced. Seth was good, Sean was very good, but Barry was – wow. Hamish was letting him fuck me once a day, and he was taking full advantage of it. It was a crying shame that Hamish was predominantly using him as his butt boy; his cock could be in the Sodomy Hall of Fame. Barry mumbled something about having to return me to Percy now, but then the door opened. And the most unexpected sight in all the world walked in. - Hello, babe. I could not respond. I just stared at him. - Yeah, it's me. It's really me. I've come to get you out of here. Before I could put two words together, another shock to the system walked in the door behind him. Oddly, this one put the words in my mouth. - IAN?! Seth grinned. - Oh, HE gets the reaction? - . . . I . . . my god, I . . . Seth, you're alive. You're really alive. He patted himself all around his body. - Yep, I seem to be. All parts intact. Who's your friend? I'd almost forgotten Barry was still in the room. - He's – - (Barry) Barry Russell. Formerly the pilot on your plane. Currently serving in the capacity of Hamish's dog. Abe here is Percy's pussycat. Have you met Percy? - (Seth) No. - (Barry) You'll recognize him. He was your flight attendant. - (Seth) Shit. This whole thing was a fix from the get-go, wasn't it? - (Barry) Yep. Now what pet shall you be – a goldfish? A gerbil? - (Ian) Barry, you can go. - (Barry) It's all right to leave these two alone? - (Ian) They won't be alone. I'll be here. Scram. Barry left. I was floored by Ian's appearance – but he was hardly the focus of my attention. - I can't believe you're alive. I hoped and prayed but – I don't know what's going on – something is – they said something about Trigger arriving. And now you're here. Are you Trigger? - If you're asking me if I'm Roy Rogers' horse, the answer is no. I've never heard anything about `trigger'. But that's all secondary. The important thing is . . . He took my hand. His touch sent sparks through my system. My cock was jolted awake and started to rise. He took notice of that and smiled. - I see you missed me. Well, I missed you, too. He was rock hard. Just looking at his rod was all I needed to complete my own journey. I pushed it out of the way so that we could embrace without mutual abdominal stabbing. And, yeah, we kissed. Oh, how we kissed. And kissed. I felt his hands roam over my body and I tingled with excitement all over, not just in my cock. And I was filled with mountains of regret – regret that, less than a week before our departure, I had slept with another man while he was off at a concert. That I had betrayed him. That he had ever had any reason to doubt me – and to doubt my love. For I had no doubt now: I loved him. I truly loved him. - Seth, what is Ian doing here? - He's one of Hamish's lieutenants. You haven't seen him before? - They keep me pretty isolated. I've only seen a couple of lieutenants. And no one from your side of the plane. I was certain you were dead. - (grabbing his cock and grinning) I'm not. We broke apart, and he turned around to Ian. - (Seth) Is there alcohol in this place? Would it be possible to order drinks to celebrate our reunion? - (Ian) It might be, but I'd have to call. I'm not supposed to leave you two alone. What do you want? - (Seth) A gin-and-tipsy. - Make that two gin-and-tipsies. - (Ian) You mean gin and tonic? - (Seth) Close enough. - (Ian) I'll make the call. - Gin and tipsy. I wrote that on the beach. - I know. I found it. That's when I knew you were still alive. - I was convinced you weren't. I made it to console myself. I was so miserable. - Are you miserable now? - Not at the moment. - Are they treating you okay? They're doing dreadful things to the others. - I know. I saw them . . . geld . . someone. - They want to geld you. That's why I have to get you out of here. - (Ian) Ixnay on the inkdray. They told me to take you back, Seth. - (me, to Ian) Wait. There's something I've got to tell Seth. - (Seth) What is it, babe? You got so serious all of a sudden. - Something I've got to get off my chest. - . . . Whatever it is, it's all right. - No, it's not all right. I . . . this might be my only chance, and I can't have this on my conscience. - I repeat, whatever it is, it's all right. - Back in Cleveland – you weren't the only guy I was seeing. - The night of the Pearl Jam concert. - . . . You knew? - Let's say I suspected. - I'd actually been seeing him for several months. It was just – it wasn't serious, I've always liked to play around a bit, I guess. But I broke up with him – when you proposed the trip, I called him and I put an end to it. I made my choice, Seth. It's you. And if we have another chance, somehow – I swear it will only be you. - (Ian) Seth, we have to go. - (Seth) Who was he? - A guy named Sean. - Sean? - Yeah, I know, you dated a guy with the same – - What was his last name? - I'm not going to see him again, you don't have to act all jealous. - (Ian) Seth? - (Seth) What was his last name? - That's not really – I mean, does it matter? - (Seth) What was his last name? - O'Hara. But – - (Ian) I know this is a bad moment, but I'll get in trouble if I don't get Seth out of here. - (Seth) . . . Right. We should go. - I love you, Seth. - (Seth) I know. I know, Abe. Don't worry, it's all right. But it wasn't. He looked absolutely shattered. When I said the name `O'Hara', his jaw tightened, before he tried to cover up his reaction. The man I had slept with couldn't possibly be Seth's Sean, could it? AN UNDERGROUND HALLWAY – SETH I was, as the Brits say, gobsmacked. Abe and SEAN? This couldn't be a coincidence. There were too many coincidences. Like Ian being here. He'd disappeared a year ago, headed to Martinique, or so I – and he – thought. Turns out he had his own `Flight 12' experience, but his was Flight 8. That in itself would be enough to make my head spin, but I had higher priorities – like Hamish's threat to castrate Abe. - Ian, I can't let them do that to Abe. Do you think they'll do it today? - No. Friday is what I heard. - I've got to find a way out of here. - . . . Seth. - Yeah? - . . . I can help. - What? Really? - I want out of here, too. There's a room they call the Egress Room – that's how they go up to the surface. There's a keypad – and I know the code. I watched Percy use it and memorized it. - Can we go today? - No, it'll have to be tomorrow. There's one code for even numbered days and one for odd – I only have the even. Tomorrow's the fourteenth. Today might not be advisable, anyway. They'll be on high alert, lots of activity. They're expecting another Twelve – Niemann Senior. - Oh, shit, Ed. I forgot about Ed. THE WOODS – ED They lied to me. Those bloody fudge-packers, Jasper and Tim. Jasper I never did trust, but I thought Tim was okay – he was in the service and all. But they deliberately lied to me. They said there was no dodecagon on the way to the papaya grove. Not only is there a dodecagon fifty feet ahead, but it's bloody purple. Yeah, I'm swearing a lot lately, but it's fucking annoying to have a conspiracy of homos against you. Well, purple dodecagon, you aren't going to get me. I stood there, staring at it. And suddenly, everything changed. I realized how wrong everyone had been about these things. They weren't dangerous – they were beautiful. And it wanted me. To my astonishment, I wanted it back. Leo, here I come. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT – THE SECOND ESCAPE ATTEMPT]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-7	Date: Thu, 8 Feb 2024 12:50:01 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel <[email protected]> Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 7 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 – a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER SEVEN: SOMEONE CAPTURED, SOMEONE REVEALED Previously: * With the appearance of Leo, Ed's nineteen-year-old son, all twelve passengers from the right side of Flight 12 have now been reunited at the Phallic Tower. One of them, Cody, has exhibited an alternate personality, the randy Ray, whose appearance seemed to have been triggered by a yellow dodecagon in the forest. Harry, however, recognizing that Cody suffers from dissociative identity disorder, thinks a third personality, Gary, might be the original one. * Nine of the twelve left-siders have been surreptitiously stripped naked to make them vulnerable to `penis portals'. Stan and Al, encountering one, are surrounded by dildos that spring out of the ground like flowers. One shoots up into Al's ass, thrusts him high in the air, then collapses, sending him through the earth into a void. Stan soon finds himself similarly impaled. * The remaining three left-siders (including Seth's boyfriend Abe) have been left clothed so that Percy, Hamish's husband, can have the fun of tracking them down and seducing them before delivering them to Hamish. * * * * * * * * SATURDAY, DECEMBER 1 * * * * * * * * LOCATION UNKNOWN – STAN I remembered being surprised when Percy, the flight attendant, insisted on my switching seats with the argumentative guy across the aisle. It was so pointless – why did he care? I look back now and think: I was surprised by THAT? That was like the littlest thing. The plane being split down the middle – was that even possible from an engineering/structural perspective? That was crazy. Seeming to float down from the sky was crazy. Surviving was crazy. Landing just offshore of an island was crazy. And then things went from crazy to so surreal that I knew I was either losing my mind or I'd died and gone to hell. I went to sleep fully clothed on a beach with twelve other guys. I woke up on a different beach, alone, and naked. And later finding Al, equally naked. And then the terrifying `penis garden', with dildos poking out of the ground like weeds to fence us in and spear Al up the ass. The earth swallowed him whole, burying him alive. A horrible way to die. When a dildo penetrated me, I knew I was in for the same fate. High up into the air I went, followed by an incredible burning sensation that made me literally scream. Then, just as the pole cooled, I came crashing down to earth. As it had for Al, the earth opened and ushered me inside. I was to be buried alive as well. Only I wasn't. THE PHALLIC TOWER – SETH The rain had passed. Leo, whose clothes were thoroughly drenched, stripped off to dry his clothes in the emerging sun and changed into clothing others had volunteered in the interim: a shirt from his father Ed, trousers from Tim, shoes from Lucas. Leo put his clothes under rocks to prevent them from blowing away. He reported having seen banana trees not far from the Phallic Tower that bore ripe fruit. Ripe, in December? Well, why not, everything else on this island was peculiar. And if true, this was indeed good news, as we hadn't eaten all day. He agreed to lead a group to gather enough for a `meal', and they returned a half-hour later with bananas stuffed down their shirts (as we had no other means of carrying them), which we devoured with relish. It was time to discuss the next course of action. While we had found what was possibly the only man-built structure on the island, what we needed was the men who built it – or anyone who could get us off the island. Staying here might shelter us from storms and give us a sleeping space, but it wouldn't further our efforts to get home. We needed a plan. After lengthy discussion, we decided to split into groups of three, each of which would take a different path. It was two o'clock; at this latitude, there were maybe four hours of daylight left. So we resolved to walk for an hour and a half and then turn back, meeting back at the tower to compare notes – hopefully, somebody would find something worth reporting. Like a source of drinking water. Ed and Jasper had watches, and Dai and Lucas had phones with some charge left, so we could monitor the time. We allocated one timepiece per group. I went with Ed and Leo; I wanted to check out their dynamic, which didn't seem all that healthy to me. Augie chose to go with Jasper, who was from New York, someplace he'd always wanted to go; Ray quickly attached himself to that group – I was fearful he might try to seduce the straight boy, but if Augie couldn't watch out for himself, Jasper looked capable of handling the situation. The other two groups were Harry, Vic & Lucas, and Tim, Paul & Dai. Our trio set off to the south-southeast, walking along the edge of the forest, as it seemed unlikely that there would be any structures in its midst. We saw no food sources, no water, no human beings, and no structures. We did, however, find another dodecagon. This one was a sort of reddish-orange; Ed called it vermillion. It was one of the colors on the phallic tower. Was that significant? Hard to say. When we returned to the tower, Tim Fallon was waiting for me. - Can I talk to you, Seth? It seems like you're the leader, I don't want to talk about this in front of the whole group. - Uh, yeah, sure. What's up? Did you find something? - Yes, but I'm not sure what. And then something freaky happened. - Sounds like par for the course. Talk to me. - We were having this normal reconnaissance mission – sorry, I was in the Army, I just think in those terms – and we ran across this strange tiled figure on the ground. - A dodecagon? - Yes. The same shape as on the tower floor. Twelve-sided figure. Looked like granite, but painted or infused somehow with color. Only this one was all blue. - I've seen two of them so far. One yellow, one orangy-red. (pointing to the tower) That color. - Ah. Vermillion. Yeah, well this shade of blue matched the tower as well. - There may be several of these scattered across the island. Twelve, if Harry's hypothesis was correct. - Okay, that was weird. But the freaky thing was Paul. - What about Paul? - He took off all his clothes and fell on top of the slab like he was hugging it. - What? - Yeah. We were like, `Paul, what are you doing?' and he got up and tried to kiss Dai. - WHAT? - I didn't know if Dai was gay or not – and I'm still not sure, because he was like totally shocked after we got Paul away from the dodecagon. And then Paul was like all normal and apologized thirty times for being naked. He didn't remember kissing Dai, which was weird. And then he got dressed and went the rest of the way with us. - Should I talk to him? - We tried. He said he didn't know what came over him, he couldn't help it. And please not to ask about it anymore, he didn't want to discuss it. So I'd say, no, not now, but maybe in the morning? Harry had said that this island was obsessed with the number twelve and with sex. And here were two instances where a twelve-sided figure had been accompanied by startling sexual behavior. But the Niemanns and I had found one of those dodecagons without incident. Inside, I discovered that while no one had found water or a source of help, two other groups had encountered dodecagons – one orange and one violet – but nothing peculiar had transpired. That made a total of five dodecagons, two that had resulted in someone going off the rails and exposing themselves. And three that had not. Twelve men. Twelve cities on the map. Twelve colors on the phallic tower and on the floor inside. Twelve sides in a dodecagon. Quite possibly twelve dodecagons. And we were here because of Flight 12. And sex. I'd found myself nude, Ray had pulled out his cock and demanded a blow job, Paul had stripped and tried to kiss Dai – not to mention we were staying overnight in a giant penis. This was too strange to be an afterlife. But it was also too strange to be real. All I knew for sure was that this was no ordinary island. It would be dark soon. As we had nothing in the way of a flashlight other than the lights on the two phones that hadn't run down completely – I suggested that trips to do one's business be done now, so we didn't have to find our way in the dark. So we traipsed out to the woods and relieved ourselves, using leaves where necessary, and headed back to the phallic tower. THE WHITE ROOM, UNDERGROUND – STAN The pole up my ass disintegrated during the descent and I went into free fall for perhaps thirty feet. I landed on a kind of soft surface, like foam rubber, that cushioned the blow. I was in some kind of a building, alone – no sign of Al. The room was entirely white. There was no hole in the ceiling – how could I have landed here? Crazy, crazy. I picked myself up and patted my body. All parts intact. There was a door, which seemed to be ajar. Well, no point in staying here, let's see what lies beyond. What lay beyond resembled an office building, or a hospital or a school. Clean, white walls, linoleum floors, corridors leading off in multiple directions. Normally, I would have wondered how such a large structure could exist underground. But in a world where clothes vanished, sleeping bodies moved and penis gardens sprang up out of nowhere to impale you, I found nothing impossible any more. There was only one explanation, one which I had rejected along with my Catholic upbringing: I was in hell. A person materialized, also naked. He approached me with a smile on his face, obviously intending to engage with me. I asked the first question: - Is this hell? He laughed. - Hell? No. Or should I say, `Hell, no!" He laughed again at his almost-joke. - There's another guy, his name's Al. Have you seen him? He's about twenty, short, blond hair. - The other new arrival. Don't worry about him. He's fine. - This isn't hell. - No. - Am I dead? - No. - Then where am I? - Hamish's place. - Hamish, who's that? - Well, I'd better say that he's my master. - Your master. Like your mentor? He teaches you, or – - I'm his boy. - I don't understand. You're not a boy, you're at least in your thirties. - I'm forty-one. Being a boy is a position not related to age, Stan. - You know my name. - I do. I know the others' names, too. - The others. - All the left-siders. You're number nine. Three left, Percy's hunting for them. - Percy? The flight attendant. Is – - Don't bother figuring it out. There's plenty of time for that. Let's just welcome you, okay? - Do YOU have a name? - I do. I'm Barry Russell. Does that name sound familiar? - Should it? - I flew your plane. Let me take you to your cell. - My cell. Am I in prison? - You could say that. A CLEARING – PERCY Took far longer than expected but I found one of the Bahamians – the gay one, Piers Thompson. I texted Hamish my location and called out to my target. - Hello! Thompson? - My word, you startled me. I've been wandering all over this island all afternoon. I haven't seen a soul. Of course you haven't. They've mostly been captured by now. - How did we all get separated? - We didn't. Just you. - What do you mean? - You wandered off in the night. - What are you talking about? I didn't wander off. - Has anyone ever told you that you sleepwalk? - No, that's ridiculous. - Piers, believe me, you got up in the middle of the night and walked away. If you didn't do that consciously, then you sleepwalked. - So where's everyone else? - Back at the beach. Having supper while I go out looking for you. - Supper? What – coconuts? - Coconuts – and fish. - Fish? How did you get fish? - Rod and reel. One of your fellow travelers is a fisherman and packed a couple of rods and reels. And lures. - . . . I thought all the luggage went on the other flight. Shit, hadn't thought of that. - It was a portable rod, folded up, fit in his backpack. The wreckage washed up just offshore, remember? He could swim out and get it. Still under his seat. - Cool. Let's go. - Piers. Before we go back . . . to all the others . . . in front of all the others. . . . - (suspicious) Yeah? - I'd like to kiss you. - . . . I'm sorry, what? - Funny, you don't look like someone with a hearing problem. - . . . I don't have a hearing problem, I have a believing problem. - Would you believe I want to do more than kiss you? - What makes you think I'm gay? - You're gay. There was a pause. - You're right, I'm gay. And I don't know what it is, but ever since I got here I've been horny as hell. I even wanted to have sex with Theo – and he's straight. It's like the air is an aphrodisiac. - Yes, I can see how horny you are. Why don't you undress so I can see more clearly? It was at that moment that he seized me, wrapped his arms around me, and pushed his mouth against mine. We exchanged breath, we locked tongues, we rubbed our hands over each other's backs and asses. And then we started ripping our clothes off. - Your name's Percy, right? I heard you tell somebody on the plane. - That's right. Percy. - I never met anyone named Percy before. - I never met anyone named Piers. They're almost the same name. Piers. Percy. - I always thought Percy was, you know, sorry, but rather effeminate. - You'll see how effeminate it is when my cock's inside you. - Oh, is that how it is? - Oh, yes, Piers. That's how it is. Now lean up against this tree and bend over. And I took him, didn't I. I think he was probably a top but he was so anxious for sex that he bent over willingly. I spit in his hole and into my hands and lathered up my cock and up his lovely mocha-colored ass it went. I rode him, and rode him hard – harder than he was expecting. But he loved every minute of it. I slipped on my kaftan as he reached to pick up his clothes. - Don't bother, Piers. You won't need them where you're going. - I won't need my – ? The tree suddenly disintegrated. Actually, not all of it did, just the upper branches, and the outer sections of the trunk, revealing that the core of the trunk was, in fact, a six-foot high black penis. - What the fuck? - Exactly. One penis isn't enough for you, is it? And a small black penis on a long pole shot up out of the ground directly underneath him and speared him in exactly the same spot where my own penis had been moments before, surging up into his anus and thrusting him high in the air. - Goodbye, Piers. And, screaming all the way, he shot down through the earth, out of sight. I got out my phone and texted Hamish. - DID YOU GET MY PRESENT? - RECEIVED. - HE STRIPPED ALL BY HIMSELF. TOLD YOU I'D GET HIM TO DO IT. - EXCELLENT. HOW WAS HE? - DELICIOUS. YOU MIGHT SAY I `PIERS'ED HIM GOOD. AND THEN THE PENIS PORTAL DID. - WHAT ABOUT DERISIAN AND SEBOLD? - I'LL GET THEM TOMORROW. DO YOU HAVE ALL THE OTHERS? - I DO. COMING DOWN? - I'M A HALF MILE FROM THE ENTRANCE. SEE YOU SOON. I walked north for about ten minutes to the place where I had emerged from underground to the surface. It was like a manhole disguised with grass. I entered the key code into my phone, and the lid lifted and a thin pole projected up six feet out of the ground. I grabbed hold of it and slid down to my beloved husband and his underground domain. Where Piers Thompson had become the latest resident. THE PHALLIC TOWER – HARRY After sundown, the two merged groups chatted for a while inside the tower, getting to know each other. I found myself liking Paul and Dai and disliking Lucas and Leo. Jasper and Tim I hadn't talked to enough to form a judgment. And then I heard something unexpected from our most unpredictable member: - (Ray) I need to pee. Ray had been quiet for quite a while, but I had noticed he had not taken advantage of the opportunity earlier, when Seth had encouraged everyone to go outside before it got dark. I was annoyed at him, and my irritation probably showed. - Why didn't you go before? - What before? - When everybody else went. - Oh, did they go? I didn't know. I just got here. - You just got here? Light bulb moment: This was not Ray. - Gary? - Yeah? - You're Gary. Gary Onslow. - You know my name. Do I know yours? You probably said it, but I wasn't here. - I'm Harry. - Hi, Harry. Could you tell me where I am? - You don't know? - This is no place I recognize. I mean, I'm kinda used to that. I often find myself in places I don't recognize. They take me there while I'm asleep. - Ray and Cody. - You know them? - We've met. Did Ray or Cody tell you anything? - They never tell me anything. They just . . . take advantage of me and let me fend for myself. It's – it's scary. I don't know why they hate me, Harry, they just do. - Well, I don't hate you. - Thank you. I don't hate you either. (Laughs) That was a joke, sorta. How could I hate you, I just met you. Where are we? - We're on an island in the middle of the Caribbean Sea. - No shit, really? - Really. - I like this floor. It's pretty. - It is, isn't it. You're sitting on the yellow wedge. - Oh. Yeah, I am. - Do you like yellow? - I guess. Who are all these people? - They're . . . they were on the plane with you, Gary. I was on the plane, too. - I was on a plane? - You . . . must have been asleep. Ray brought you. - Oh. And we're on an island in the Caribbean? - Yes. - So . . . why are we with the other people from the plane? This doesn't look like an airport. - No, Gary, it's not. Listen, this is kinda hard to explain. Maybe . . . maybe you'd better go out and pee and then we can talk, okay? - Okay. Shit. How could I explain something that was incomprehensible to myself to someone who had been submerged beneath two other personalities during the whole traumatic incident? I wanted to call Seth over to help strategize, but he was engaged with Dai in what looked like a serious discussion. Just then Augie saw me, noticed Gary heading for the door, and came over to have a word. - Saw you talking to Ray. - . . . Yeah. - How was he? - Why do you ask? - He's been quiet since we came back from the expedition, right? No bragging, no talking loud, you know what I mean? - I know what you mean. Yeah, he's been quiet. - Harry, it's like he's changed again. He was like this rancher guy and said his name was Cody and then he went nuts and tried to get me to suck his dick and said his name was Ray. But while we were out, it was like he suddenly was something different. It might have happened when we found that medallion. - Medallion? - Well, that's what I'm calling those big patterns on the ground. I know they aren't medallions, but I've got to call them something. - Okay, what happened at the medallion? - Ray had been his usual self, bragging about his conquests – he's definitely a homo – but then when we got to the medallion, he sort of got quiet and stayed quiet the whole way back. - What color was the `medallion'? - (pointing to the wall) That color. Like bluish-purple. - Violet. I saw him get up quickly and move away, like he didn't want to be seen talking. I looked up and saw the reason: Gary/Ray/Cody was heading back to me. - Change your mind? - No. I still have to pee. But I couldn't get out. - What do you mean, you couldn't get out? - There's no handle on the door. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER EIGHT – TRAPPED]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-41	Date: Thu, 30 May 2024 20:48:05 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 41 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER FORTY-ONE: PERIL ABOVE GROUND Previously, at the Phallic Tower: * Seth has been charged with removing three testicles from the topside Twelve, which attrition has now reduced to Jasper and Gary. * On Christmas Day, Jasper not-so-coincidentally discovers he has grown an extra testicle. * Sean tells Hamish that all the left-siders are dead (as required by `the physics'), but knows that Ian is hiding Stan somewhere. After Stan sets off a sensor on a dodecagon, Stimulever deduces that a left-sider must be alive and orders Sean to provide proof of his death. * Ian decides Stan is safer at the Phallic Tower, unaware that Sean now plans to kill him. * Jasper receives a hand-job from Gary and reciprocates with a blow-job, but Ray emerges during it and gets the orgasm. On the plane, way back in Chapter One: * Percy, the flight attendant, asks Stan and `Mr. Onslow' to change seats to the other side of the aisle. * * * * * * * * WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 26 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH I arose early, wishing, for far from the first time, that I had Harry around as a counsel. Stan's reappearance had a whirlwind of repercussions, and I didn't know how to sort them all out. Until last night, my understanding of events had been: * Vic had killed Al, for reasons that remained mysterious. * Theo had been captured by a penis garden. * According to Ian, Stan had also been captured by a penis garden. Sean claimed that Ian was lying. but Sean had reason to throw Ian under the bus, so that he (Sean) would be the one I would trust. My inclination was to believe Ian. Obviously I was wrong. Ian and Stan had related this version: * Ian had encouraged Vic to kill Al, but only because Sean was pressuring him to do so. * Theo had been pushed off a cliff by Sean. * Sean had ordered Ian to kill Stan. Ian told Stan to hide and invented the penis garden story to cover it up. Sean discovered the deception, but agreed to keep Stan's survival a secret from Hamish. After Stan wandered onto a dodecagon, Ian decided that Stan would be safer at the Tower, where Hamish was unlikely to look for him. It mostly kinda sorta made sense. But why had Sean agreed to lie to Hamish about Stan's survival? Ian's response: ask Sean. Sean said he'd talk to me in the morning. It was morning now: I'd ask him. But could I trust him to tell me the truth? No. Who COULD I trust? Ian, who had lied about Stan and manipulated Vic into strangling Al? Gary, who couldn't be relied on to stay Gary? The only trustworthy person left was Jasper. Jasper, on whom I would have to dump some very bad news. And when I did, would Jasper trust ME? THE PHALLIC TOWER � SEAN Stan's appearance was the Christmas gift I never expected. It had been logical from Ian's perspective: he trusted me to keep Stan's survival secret, and Hamish wouldn't send a search party to the Tower itself. Smart. Except for one thing. He didn't know about the ultimatum I'd been given, to provide proof of Stan's death. Seth was out fucking Jasper. But first, he confronted me about my role in the Stan thing: why had I agreed to help Ian cover it up? I could tell him the truth: I was actually trying to sabotage The Project, not advance it. But my credibility with Seth was already low. Eventually, I'd have to tell him this, but now was not the time � it would eviscerate any vestiges of trust that remained. Instead, I said it was because I knew Stan's death would devastate Ian, and I couldn't do that to a friend. I don't think Seth bought it. There was another reason I could have given Seth, which might have made him regard me more sympathetically. But it wasn't something I was comfortable sharing. I felt no guilt over Al's and Theo's deaths because I knew they lived on in Alphaworld, oblivious to their Beta-existence. But did Stan have an Alpha-life? . . . Probably. Sometime after Flight 12 left Santo Domingo, those on the right side of the plane were removed entirely from Alphaworld; no one in Alphaworld even remembered them now. The left-siders, however, dwelled in both worlds simultaneously, as if they had been cloned. Alpha-Al would be contently clerking at Costco in Syracuse; Alpha-Theo and Alpha-Piers might be rehearsing a play in Nassau. But Alpha-Stan? I couldn't guarantee that there was one. It depended on exactly when the right-siders were purged from Alphaworld. Stan had initially been seated on the right side of the plane, but Percy had made him switch with Gary (Ray, at the time). If the right siders were removed from Alphaworld after the switch, then Stan would have an Alpha-life along with the other left-siders. But if it was before the seat switch, then Gary/Ray/Cody had an Alpha-life and Stan existed only in Beta � in which case, if he died here, he was truly dead. I didn't want that on my conscience. But now I had no choice. Stimulever demanded proof. I'd just have to hope that Alpha-Stan still existed. Because Beta-Stan needed to die. THE WOODS � JASPER I thought that perhaps my third testicle was a Christmas present that wouldn't survive Christmas Day. But, no, it was still here. I guess that was okay, though it made me even hornier than usual. I gazed at Gary and ached to fuck him, but this morning Gary was Ray, who probably wanted to fuck ME. I got fucked all right, but by Seth, to fulfill his daily obligation. Afterwards, he hit me with the news. - Jasper, I have to tell you something. It's . . . Well, neither of us will like this. I have another obligation under `the physics', one you don't know about yet. - Oh, hell. What is it now? - I need to sever three testicles. - . . . Did you say three TESTICLES? - . . . Yeah, three. - How long have you known this? - Since Saturday. Tim was still here, but I didn't act on it then, because I didn't trust the messenger � - Sean. - And now there's just you and Gary. - And you noticed I suddenly have three testicles. - . . . Yeah. - And you think that's not a coincidence. - . . . No. - I see. - They said I couldn't take them from Gary. `Not from Onslow'. A direct quote. - A quote from whom? - Hamish. - Says Sean. - No, I spoke with him myself. - You SPOKE with him? With Hamish? How? - Sean has a phone. He's been keeping it secret, but he let me use it when I questioned the validity of this mandate. Jasper, they'll grow back. At least that's what Sean says. - And we all know how reliable his word is. - Shit, Jasper. I don't have a lot of options here. If I don't do this, they'll kill Abe. If Betaworld goes away in five days, you should get your balls back then. - Two of them or all three? - In Alphaworld, I'm guessing two's the limit. - I would have thought the limit was two anywhere. Anyway, . . . okay. - Okay? What do you mean, `okay'? - Do it. Only . . . is there a deadline? - I'm not sure. - Can you hold off today? I'm making some progress with Gary, I'd like to � - I'll hold off until I get a deadline. But Jasper � - It's okay. It might even be a relief. The whole raison-d'�tre of this vacation was to get me less focused on sex. The third testicle wasn't exactly helping with that. But going from three to zero � was I ready for that? FLASHBACK: JASPER (NEW YORK) � July, two years ago I was at my peak: sex five, six nights a week. I could go into any gay bar, any club, any situation and walk out with a guy I'd have sex with. I was versatile, but mostly I topped. I looked for young, sexy guys, and they looked for me. It helps when you're really good looking. That sounds conceited, and I suppose it is, but it's also just factual. I have been blessed, through no merit of my own, with super-good looks and a hot body. (Well, I do a bit to contribute to the latter � gym and all.) But I have to look good as part of my job � I'm a TV reporter. It was getting too easy to pick up guys. I needed a challenge. I started visiting leather bars. I wanted to take risks. The Eagle was too tame for me. I tried out a new club named Whiplash. I checked my clothes, other than a leather harness and codpiece. My hairy, muscular chest, bulging jock, and bubble butt got attention, all right. Men were buying me drinks like I was a twink and easy conquest. I guess I WAS easy conquest. Easy enough, anyway, for Alec. - Why are you letting all these wimps buy you drinks? - So I can walk out of here no poorer than when I came in? - You don't look like a cheapskate. - I'm not. It's just sport. - You like sport? - Of a certain kind. - So you like to play games? - What kind of games do you have in mind? - Dangerous ones, my friend. Dangerous ones. That should have warned me off right then and there. But I was so damn cocky, and so comfortable in my sexuality, that I thought I was ready for anything. The very phrase `dangerous ones' sent chills up my spine � thrilling ones. I was in search of adventure. I was in search of new experiences. I was in a bar named Whiplash. And damn, he was hot. I went home with Alec. His home. Mistake. - You into bondage, Jasper? - Try me. - Try you? Either you are or you aren't. Do you do bondage? - I think I'm about to. He studied me, realizing I'd just confessed I'd never been tied up before. He grinned. - Oh, yeah. You're about to. Put these on. He handed me a set of padded leather gloves with no thumbs, like miniature boxing gloves. Alec tied them tightly to secure them in place. No way could I take these babies off. I waited to see what other restraints he would add to my wardrobe. - I like to warm guys' butts with this fraternity paddle. Full force, no holding back. I tie them to a St. Andrew's cross and give them as many swats as they earn. As they earn? - You'll get one swat for every second you still have clothes on. Starting . . . now. - . . . What? - Better get going. The timer started already. - Whoa, whoa � I didn't agree to this. - I know you didn't. That's what makes it fun. By the way, you're up to eleven swats and you're still fully clothed. Thirteen, now. Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen. - How am I supposed to do this with these things on? - Nineteen, twenty. - Shit! - Twenty-two. I scrambled to undress. Why did I have to wear lace-up boots? Shit shit shit! Fortunately, I'm limber enough that I can bend over and touch my feet with my head, and I was able to pull out the laces with my teeth and slip out of my shoes. But not easily. - Fifty-three. Fifty-four. . . . Okay, the socks I could pull off with the opposite foot, that only took � - Fifty-eight. Fifty-nine. I looked at my belt. Belt. I couldn't reach that with my mouth. I tried pushing at it with my gloves � useless. I tried pushing my leather pants down with my belt still in place � damn them being so tight! (They made me look good, but at the moment that was not my highest priority.) I worked at it and worked at it � - One hundred ninety-two. One hundred ninety-three. Then I saw it � a hook on the wall, for attaching a rope or something more fearsome than that. But it was a hook. I wedged it between the prong and the frame, prying it from the punch hole. I was able to dislodge the strap from the buckle, and then used the hook to provide leverage so that I could inch my pants slowly down my abdomen to the point where they fell to the floor. Victory! - Two hundred sixty-nine. Two hundred seventy. Pyrrhic victory. I managed to push my codpiece down my legs by brute force without going over the three-hundred mark, but I still had my shirt on � with buttons. And underneath was the damn harness. How could I get that off without going into the thousands? I'd consider that dilemma after I'd gotten the shirt off. I tried fumbling at the buttons with the gloves, but there was no way I could force the damn buttons through the button hole. I decided my only strategy was to try to take it off from the back. I stood against a chair and scrunched down, wedging the chair between my shirt and my skin. Eventually, I managed to push it over my head, and with some skillful maneuvering, pass it completely over my head where I was able to beat it down to the floor. But it took me almost three minutes, and by then I had earned � - Three hundred eighty-five. Three hundred eighty-six. Gosh, and you still have that harness on, don't you? Good thing I have a mercy rule. A mercy rule! Thank god. - I'll take that harness off you. But then you'll take seven hundred fifty from my fraternity paddle. Seven hundred fifty swats? Full force? No way could I take that! He was powerfully built, and if there was `no holding back', I could take twenty, or fifty, maybe even a hundred, but � No. I was naked except for the harness, but I didn't care. My only hope was to make a mad dash for the door. He was on me in nothing flat. And I felt something jab into my thigh. - Not cooperating, Jasper? That's why I keep a sedative handy. Most of my boys try to run, but they don't get away, and neither will you. I'm mounting you on my St. Andrew's cross, my friend. Your ass is getting seven-hundred fifty of the hardest blows it will ever feel. And that's just your ass. We're just getting started. Are you thinking you'll bleed internally? You will. Externally as well. Are you thinking `this'll land me in the hospital'? . . . Sorry, pal. Can't let that happen. You'd turn me into the police, wouldn't you? So you won't be going to any hospital. I'm afraid your next destination will be a dumpster. Or, to be precise, several dumpsters. Visions of Diane Keaton passed through my head: "Looking for Mr. Goodbar". She hadn't escaped. I had to. But how? That was my final thought before I lost consciousness. * * * * * * * * THURSDAY, DECEMBER 27 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH I took Jasper out for my daily fuck and asked him how it had gone with Gary. He said Cody had been the dominant persona yesterday; when Stan had told Cody of Jasper's impending castration, Cody conducted a mini-lesson, sans equipment, on how to use a burdizzo. It was nearly enough, Stan had said, to convince him that Cody actually did have a herd of cattle. So he had not made progress with Gary yesterday, but would try today, aware that time was running short. After Jasper left, Sean approached me. - When are you going to neuter Mister Three Balls? - Not today, if I can help it. - It must be done before he arrives underground Saturday. I have to take pictures � they want proof. - If he arrives without balls, I'd think that would be proof enough. - So would I, but they're anxious about it. That's not all they're anxious about. . . . I have to kill Stan. - Sean! - He'll be fine, just like Al and Theo are fine in Alphaworld. Not really dead. Well, okay, he'll be dead, but not dead dead. So I need you to distract Ian. - You want me to do your dirty work for you. - Seth, I'm the one doing the dirty work. You think I want to do this? It's eating me up inside. But I have no choice. - You want me to `distract' Ian. - If he knows, he'll stand in my way and then we'll both be in deep shit. - Why would IAN be in deep shit? - Because he lied about killing Stan in the first place. I have to protect Ian, Seth. And I'd think you'd want to as well. You dated him for a while. - He told you about that. Or rather, he told `Jude'. - You're the Trigger Man, Seth. Without you, The Project doesn't launch. I knew all about your love life. Not just Ian � Caleb and Ysidro and those twinks you dated after we broke up. And especially about you and Abe. Ian set you up for that, doing our bidding without even realizing it. - You manipulated us into a relationship. - Does it matter? Do you love Abe any less? You were both unaware of it, you fell in love naturally, we were doing you a favor. - Until you started sleeping with Abe. - Yeah, well, that was part of the plan, too. Nothing personal. FLASHBACK: SEAN (CUYAHOGA FALLS, OHIO / CLEVELAND) � July, current year - So did you like the Shostakovich? - I LOVED the Shostakovich. Second piano concerto � pi�ce de resistance. - I am totally with you. I wish more people would come to these concerts. I have trouble finding a friend to go with. - Oh, god, me, too. Sometimes I can drag my boyfriend to the Cleveland Orchestra, but only if they're playing something familiar like Beethoven's Fifth. - Not a music lover. - Let's just say his tastes and mine diverge. For him to come all the way down to Cuyahoga Falls � for Shostakovich? No way, Jos�. But me, I love these summer concerts at Blossom. - Me, too. Listen, you want to, like, have a coffee afterwards? - Well, like I said, I have a boyfriend. - I'm not asking you to sleep with me. (Yet.) Just a coffee. - Well . . . - No harm in a cup of coffee that he'll never know about. - I guess. . . . Okay. I'm Abe, by the way. - Sean. I'll say this, Abe. Looking at you � your boyfriend is one lucky man. `Sean'. It just slipped out. I should have given him a fake name (not Jude, he might know of `Jude' from Ian), but no matter; there was no reason for him to associate me with Seth's Sean. Fortunately, there are thousands of Seans in the world. We had coffee. We drove back to Cleveland in separate cars. We arrived in Cleveland at the same location � his apartment. - I really shouldn't be doing this. - Are you married? - No, but we've been dating for seven months. - You're not living together. - No. - So you're still free to explore other avenues, you know. Even married guys � straight and gay alike � have perfectly healthy relationships that aren't exclusive. - I know, and I've always been, well, the opposite of exclusive. Seth's the only guy I've dated for longer than three weeks. - Seth? That his name? The Neanderthal who doesn't like classical music? - He's not a Neanderthal. - Homo Ignoramus, then. - Are you trying to break us up? - Absolutely not. I'm just trying to add a little spice to your life. And a little spike. - Well, you have a very nice spike, I must admit. - And you have a very nice place to put my spike. I put my spike into his very nice place. He didn't mind at all. No, Abe, I'm not trying to break you up. I'm just trying to complicate your relationship. That's my job � the Trigger Man needs issues. You have a pretty face and a pretty ass and a pretty everything else, but my mission is to drive a wedge � just a little one � between you two. And, considering how much you liked my spike, I think I can sustain this for a while. It's your lover I'm after, Abe, not you. And I aim to get him. By any means necessary. THE PHALLIC TOWER � IAN - Ian, we're nearly out of water. Want to come with? - Stan and I can go, Seth. - Stan's with Gary at the moment. Right now, the only person who can talk to Gary about sex is Jasper � anyone else and he morphs into Ray or Cody. But I heard Stan telling Gary he was bisexual, and Gary stayed Gary. That's a good sign � I don't want to disrupt that. - Okay, that makes sense. Sure, I'll go with you. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH Well, that was a lie. Gary was Ray at the moment. I self-justified the lie by saying that if Sean could extract Stan from Ray's presence, maybe Jasper could get Gary to come out. I didn't convince myself. I knew I was just betraying Ian. But what choice did I have? I had to save The Project, so I could save Abe. Sorry, Ian. THE WOODS � SEAN I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Ian leave with Seth. That would make this a little easier. Not a lot easier. On a ten-point difficulty scale, it would reduce it from 10 to 9. Theo's death haunted me, necessary as it was � his scream still resounded in my brain. And Theo had an Alpha-life, and no lover to devastate. Stan, on the other hand, . . . Did I have the courage to do this? Better get on with it, Sean � Ian won't be out of the way forever. I called Stan away from Gary, who seemed to be in Ray mode. - Hey, Sean, what gives? - I want to clear the air, if I can. - Sure. Ian said you were covering up his hiding me. - Indeed I am. I want you to feel safe, that you can trust me. You know they wanted us to kill you. Ian said he'd do it because you'd take it better from him, but then changed his mind. You know that? - Yeah. He said my Alpha-life was safe, but that wasn't that reassuring, frankly. I'm a Beta-life. - What did Ian tell you about the others? This was critical. I had to find out how much he knew. Did he know about Theo? Did he know about Al? - They're dead. Vic strangled Al, and Theo � Ian said you pushed him off a cliff. Okay, I can't take him to the cliff, he knows about it. But I had a back-up plan. - Do you want to see Al's grave? - His grave? - Vic buried him. Seth found it and put up a makeshift headstone and some flowers. I could show you. - Would you, Sean? I didn't know Al for long, but aside from Ian he was my best friend on this island. I'd like to pay last respects and, who knows, maybe when I get back to Alpha I can look him up. - Let me show you. I'll bring my phone and take a picture. - You have a phone? - Shhh. It's a secret. I wasn't about to take him to Al's actual grave. Instead, I took him down the meadow for a few hundred yards, then into the eastern woods. We were alone, isolated, in a place no one would see us. In other words, the perfect spot. A knife being available at the Tower, my original thought was to bring it with me and plunge it into Stan's heart. But I was wearing only socks and briefs, and couldn't conceal a knife in either without risking serious injury. Besides, Seth might need the knife today to use on Jasper. No, I'd have to rely on my hands, just as Vic did with Al. - I'm really sorry, Stan. - What, you can't find it? - Al's grave is nowhere near here. I put my hands around his startled neck and squeezed. - You won't know you're dead. Your consciousness will go straight to Alphaworld. You won't remember any of this, but I'll make sure Ian gets to Portland and finds you. I thought about how often we envisioned loved ones being reunited `in the next world' after their deaths. This was one situation where it might be true. I pledged to myself to make sure Ian and Stan connected in Alphaworld. That is, if the Project failed. And if Stan had an Alpha-life. Because his Beta-life had just ended. I snapped a picture of his corpse. Knowing that would be insufficient, I dug a grave, and dumped him in it, covering him up partly in dirt, then took another shot. Then I buried all but a single hand and took a video of the hand protruding from the dirt for long enough to convince them he wasn't holding his breath, before burying the hand with the rest of his body. Afterwards, I fell to the ground and cried for a long, long time. THE PHALLIC TOWER - IAN Seth and I returned with our three bottles of water. I found only Gary and Jasper present; the absence of Stan and Sean concerned me. It concerned me more when Sean appeared, alone. His eyes were red. I could tell he didn't want to face me. I didn't want to speak. Seth took over for me. - (Seth) What happened, Sean? Why so upset? - (Sean) I tried to stop him, Ian. I couldn't. - (Seth) Stop him from what? - (Sean) The penis garden. - WHAT?!! I couldn't believe my ears. Sean had allowed Stan to wander into a penis garden? No way. - You're fucking lying, Sean. - No � I � - What were you even doing leaving the Tower? - He . . . He wanted to see Al's grave. - (Seth) There's no penis garden near Al's grave. - (Sean) We didn't go to the actual grave. I thought it would upset him too much, so I took him in the opposite direction. I forgot about the penis garden on the way, and � - You forgot? You FORGOT?! The location of known penis gardens is not something you forget. And � what's that in your hand? Is that a phone? You have a fucking phone? - . . . - Give me the phone, Sean. - The hell I will. - Why do you have a phone? Who are you calling with your phone? Hamish? - . . . - Why is it out now? Why are you coming back from being with Stan with your phone out? - I'm not answering these questions. And he walked away. I started to follow, but Seth stopped me. - Ian, don't. There's no point. - If Stan's underground, Hamish will castrate him. And then . . . - I think the `and then' part has already happened. - . . . What? What do you mean? - I think Stan's dead. I think Sean killed him. He took his phone to take pictures. - Why does he need pictures? - Hamish told him they needed proof that Stan was dead. - You knew this? You knew this, Seth, and didn't tell me? - He's still alive, Ian, in Alphaworld. - . . . You were in on this! You took me off to get water so that Sean could kill my Stan! He didn't deny it. - Fuck you, Seth! I hope you fucking die and Abe fucking dies and this whole fucking Project dies so you can live in misery forever! I didn't mean that, of course, but it had to be said. I just hoped to God that Sean was telling the truth about Stan still being alive in Alphaworld. And that I could somehow find him there. THE PHALLIC TOWER � JASPER - So he's going to cut them off, Gary. All three of them. - When? - I don't know. Probably tomorrow. - Can I . . . touch them again? - Yes, but I have another suggestion. - What? - Stand up. He did. - Let's just hug each other. Man to man, skin to skin. And explore each other's bodies. - Including your three balls? - (grinning) Sure, including my three balls. But all of me. Face, neck, chest, back, abs, butt, legs, even my feet. And let me explore all of you. - Just touch. - Touch, fondle, caress, rub, kiss. No sex, just intimacy. - That sounds nice, Jasper. - You're nice, Gary. You have a very nice body. One that you should be proud of. One that you should be happy to share. One that you need to be Gary for. - What do you mean? - Ray and Cody aren't worthy of you, Gary. A nice body deserves a nice person. Like you. - Aw, that's sweet, Jasper. You have a nice body, too. I like the hair on your chest. - One of my specialties. Run your fingers through it if you like. - I like. We found a lot to like. Including our balls, all five of them. And he remained Gary the whole time. - Gary? - Yes? - Would you kiss me? I watched carefully for a reaction, for a change. I didn't want to kiss Cody or Ray. But he gave a little sheepish grin, took me in his arms, and planted one firmly on my lips. Okay, it wasn't a very good kiss, he had no idea what to do, but I still felt a tingle and so did he. And he stayed Gary the whole time. Progress. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH I had just aided and abetted a murder. I had just betrayed Ian, who had only lied to me in order to preserve his relationship with the man he loved. A relationship I had just helped end. And for what � to preserve MY relationship with the man I loved. Seth Herrick � the Trigger Man. Who had just pulled the trigger on Stan. What kind of man was I? FLASHBACK: SETH (CLEVELAND) � May, this year - Going out for lunch, Seth? - Surely. - Is that `surely', meaning `yes', or are you just saying my name? - I'm saying `surely, Shirley'. Wanna come with? - Yes, please. - Hudson's? But I'll have to stop at the bank first. - You're not using your card? - I need to get some fives. - Wow. Cash, I remember cash. Armed with four five-dollar bills, I emerged from the bank and headed toward our favorite diner for lunch. - What's with the cash? - It's Thursday. - That explains it. - It's my Random Acts of Kindness day. I make a good salary, I can afford twenty bucks a week. I get four fives and give them to street people. It means a lot more to them than giving them a quarter. Ah � there's Ram"n. He's one of my non-random acts. Kind of a regular for me. He's usually out here reading the Plain Dealer. . . . Hey, Ram"n. Where's the newspaper? - (Ram"n) No point. Lost my reading glasses. The print's too small for these old eyes. - What strength do you need? - Two point five. My eyes aren't so good anymore. - Got it. . . . Listen, Shirley, there's a CVS across the street. Let me run over there. I bought a pair of reading glasses for Ram"n, and gave them to him along with one of my five-dollar bills. - (Shirley) That was really sweet. It's a damn shame you're gay, `cause otherwise I'd be falling in love with you. - I'll let you know if Abe and I break up and I change my sexual orientation. - Random Acts of Kindness. - Every Thursday. - That's very special. That's what kind of man you are, Seth Herrick. Very special. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH It was a Thursday. And I had just committed a Random Act of Cruelty. And the man who had instigated it was now approaching me, his face full of gratitude. - Seth, thank you. I couldn't have done it with Ian around. - Sean, that's not something I can feel good about. - I don't feel good about it, either. I feel awful, to be honest. - Murder isn't easy. - It's not murder if he's still alive. And he's alive in Alphaworld. - You're sure of that. He paused too long for me to believe his answer. - Yes, I'm sure of that. - No, you're not. - You're right, I'm not. I'm pretty sure, but not a hundred percent. Dammit, Seth, this thing is so complicated. All I feel confident in is that if you want to save Abe, you have to cut Jasper. And you need to do it tomorrow. You can't wait until Saturday. - My turn to be a villain. - I don't think I'm done being one either. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER FORTY-TWO � PERIL BELOW GROUND]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-13	Date: Wed, 28 Feb 2024 20:19:52 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 13 Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER 13 � SOMETHING AMBER, SOMEONE BLUE Previously, at the Phallic Tower: * Seth, Harry, and Paul find a source of water. While Harry and Seth spot another piece of airplane wreckage, Paul seeks and finds the blue dodecagon. It seems to (invisibly) fuck him before collapsing under his feet, and he falls into the earth. Harry distantly witnesses the event. * This reduces the number of tower residents to eleven: Seth, Harry, Augie, Ed, Leo, Vic, Dai, Gary/Ray/Cody, and three men we don't know much about yet � Jasper, Tim, and Lucas. Elsewhere on the island: * The plane's left-siders have mostly been imprisoned underground. Three were left on the surface for Percy to pursue for sport. Percy finds and fucks the first, a gay Bahamian named Piers, and sends him underground, leaving two more targets: Piers's straight friend Theo � and Abe. In a flashback: * Seth and Abe have a no-sex date at an Armenian restaurant. Seth says that his `complicated history' may be a story for a fourth date, which Abe decides should be now � and takes him back to his apartment. [Author's Note: the events in this chapter overlap in time with those of the previous one.] * * * * * * * * SUNDAY, DECEMBER 2 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � JASPER It's like the gods are conspiring against me. I enjoy having sex; I LOVE having sex � which is great, but my entire self-image is dependent upon how often I have it. If I go more than two days in a row without sex, I get depressed and head for the clubs to pick up somebody. It's not hard � I have been blessed with good looks; the fact that they might recognize me from TV (I'm a local news reporter) doesn't hurt either. It makes for shallow arrangements and I have more sex partners than close friends, but I just can't help myself. I know that ultimately happiness will depend upon finding someone I can relate to on more than a put-my-dick-in-your-hole level; I need to think of men as complete human beings, not just bodies to conjoin with. But so far . . . A friend suggested I see a therapist who specializes in sex addiction. I did, and was so turned on by him I couldn't concentrate. The only solution was to switch to a woman, so I wouldn't be tempted. And she laid down the challenge: can you spend a week on a Caribbean island without having sex? So what happens? I get marooned with eleven other men, most of them young, hot, and � to ice a tempting cake � gay. Everywhere I turn there are sexy, gorgeous asses I long to plunder. And � I don't know how to explain it, but there's a weird kind of sexual energy in this place. It's like everyone is secretly longing to hump everybody else, aside from the straight guys � who might be limited to Augie and Ed. But I'd gladly hop into the sack with either of them if the opportunity arose. (Yeah, even Ed � I'm not a snob about age. He keeps himself in shape, I'd do him.) Harry is nice, but I've never been into chubs, figuratively or literally. Otherwise, every other body seems to exist just to torture me. When Paul woke up this morning wearing only that jock, it drove me wild. His ass is so goddamned perfect � if he's not gay, it's a waste of God's talents. Dai is similar � on the short side (about 5'7"), trim but rounded, his body a continuous contour of curves and the most gorgeously perfect round melons surrounding that sacred vessel I so longed to invade. Augie, Ray, and Tim were taller, with more rectangular asses, not the bubble-butts of Paul and Dai, but yeah, I like that type, too. Vic and Seth were the opposite of Paul and Dai: big guys, muscular, with toned butts that might as well have been made of solid steel. They could easily overpower me, but fucking those hard bodies would be a thrill. There are two men I've left out of this analysis: Lucas and Leo. Lucas was taller than me but similarly built - fit, strong, but not a muscle god like Vic or Seth. Although he kept it in his pants, he seemed to be packing a pretty generous piece of meat and might just be the top stud among us. Were he a different sort of person, I'd have happily coupled with him � even let him top me. But Lucas didn't press my buttons � mostly because he was a prick, and I rarely get turned on by someone whose personality disgusts me. I say rarely, because Leo also was a prick. And yet one look at him stiffened MY prick. It was Chemistry City, I just wanted him. I wanted his taste, his smell, his touch, I wanted to wash his entire body with my tongue and then take him for a ride. But I didn't like him. Interestingly enough, when I came back from completing my biological functions, these two were getting into it � and not in the good sense of that term. - (Lucas) Okay, kid, give me back my shoes. - (Leo) Hell, no. I'm not giving up these clothes. Mine were stolen, remember? - Yeah, which is why I gave you my shoes. - Exactly. You gave me your shoes. Gave them. - They're my shoes. - You know what they say, dude � possession is two-thirds of the law. - It's `nine-tenths', and it's a stupid saying anyway. - I need shoes. - And I don't? You deserve them more than me? - Yeah, I do. Anyway, you're not barefoot, you've got socks. - Christ, you're a piece of work. If I had you in Chicago, I'd . . . - You'd what? - You don't want to know. - Whoa, I'm so scared. I didn't want to know, either; there WAS something a bit scary about Lucas. Tim Fallon was standing nearby, witnessing this exchange. Tim was barelegged, wearing only a polo shirt, underwear, socks and shoes, having let Leo borrow his pants while Leo's clothes had dried. He looked at me sheepishly. - I was going to ask for my pants back, but I don't think now is the time. - I mean, all you really need is underwear, right? Leo needs something to cover his junk. - True, but the kid is hot, he shouldn't be ashamed to show his body off. So Tim is gay, too. Add him to the list of guys I'd fuck if only I could. Which would, sadly, be headed by Leo. But I couldn't fuck Leo. I didn't want to go near him, or Paul or Dai or anyone else. It was as if this voyage had been designed especially to test my resolve, my ability to resist. Dr. Faraday wouldn't know if I succumbed to temptation, but I'd know � and I don't lie to her. I felt like Odysseus sailing past the Siren, but there was nobody to tie me to the mast. I had to do that myself. I had promised. It was part of my therapy. Leo was off limits: No sex, please, he's British � or used to be. [Author's Note for the mystified: There was an English farce entitled "No Sex, Please, We're British."] It came time for us to set out on expeditionary hunts for food, water, and signs of other humans, in groups of threes. Seth and Harry were going off with Paul; Vic, Augie & Ray formed a trio; a third group had Dai, Lucas & Tim, leaving only the Niemanns without a third. Ed courteously (of course � he was English nobility) invited me to join him and his son. The son whom I disliked � and lusted after. We found no water or signs of other humans, but we did find some papaya trees. I took off my shirt so that we could carry more of the papayas back to the tower. Leo kept his on; he should have stuffed as many papayas as possible into his shirt front, but he didn't, letting me carry them all. Leo struck me as a spoiled brat. The son of a knight � although fully Americanized � he's probably had everything handed to him his whole life, and seems to treat the world as if they owe him, rather than vice-versa. However, I was glad he kept his shirt on; to see him bare-chested would have stiffened my rod. And then it happened. As we rose to the crest of a small hill, we found another of those dodecagons. Though I had seen a (violet) one yesterday without incident, guys had told me that a yellow one had freaked Ray out and he'd propositioned Augie (of all people). In addition, there were whispers that something had happened with Paul at a blue dodecagon yesterday, though those in the know were keeping it under wraps. This one was amber � halfway between orange and yellow � one of the twelve colors on the tower. Leo took off his (Ed's) shirt. And his (Lucas's) shoes. And his (Tim's) pants. These three items were all he'd been wearing. My cock twitched. Naked, Leo bounded down the hill toward the dodecagon. Ed chased him, displaying remarkable speed for a fifty-year-old. I dropped the papayas, picked up Leo's discarded attire, and followed. When Leo reached the dodecagon, he began dancing on it, while his father was screaming at him. Leo beckoned to me. - Come on, Jasper, fuck my ass! - (Ed) Leo! - Dad, don't be such a wet blanket. You know I'm gay. - What I know is that you've gone absolutely bonkers! - Not bonkers. Naked, I've gone absolutely naked! That's the best way to have sex! Come on, Jasper, fuck me! I know you want to. You've been staring at me since the airport. He was right about that. I looked at that voluptuous ass, that sinuous body, and I craved it. Bizarre as it seems, I had the sense that the island wanted me to fuck Leo. Leo certainly wanted me to fuck Leo. And every cubic inch of my body wanted me to fuck Leo. But I had to resist. Ed charged after his son and tried to pull him off the dodecagon but, fit as he was, his efforts weren't enough. - (Ed) Jasper! Help me! Oh, shit. You want me to actually touch him without spilling my seed in my pants? I took a deep breath, and stepped onto the dodecagon. Ed had hold of him from behind, so I grabbed him from the front. This gave Leo the opportunity to push his mouth against mine and instantly I was hard as a rock. One of Leo's arms was free and he managed to lower it to my crotch and pull down my zipper. Ed and I were making progress pulling him off the dodecagon, but by the time we achieved it, Leo had pulled my erect cock through the vent in my boxers. Having finally extracted him from the granite slab, we dragged him halfway up the hill, Leo struggling all the way, me struggling to keep from creaming. Fortunately, with Leo in between us, Ed was unaware of the tumescence � and exposure � of my penis. When we were sufficiently far from the amber dodecagon, Leo stopped struggling. I broke free, spun around before Ed could see my erect cock, tucked myself back in, and stood there ready to intervene if Leo's libido kicked in again. However, he just looked embarrassed, as if he had snapped back to reality. I hadn't wanted to look at his groin, but he was fully engorged � and god, did my mouth long to close around that dick. - (Ed) Get your bloody clothes on, son. And then he turned to me. - Thanks for your help, Jasper. Couldn't have done it without you. He was so focused on his naked son that he didn't notice the bulge in my pants. He looked back at Leo and scowled. - Bloody poofter. THE WOODS � SETH - Where's Paul? - (Harry) You didn't see that? The blue dodecagon? - You found it? He found it? You can't see it from here. - Oh. True, you can't. Come with me. We scurried down the hill where there was a gap in the trees. Harry was about to point through them into a valley below when he stopped. - It's gone. - What's gone? - The blue dodecagon. It was here a minute ago, I swear. Paul was bent over, yelling `Fuck me' � with his arms stretched out like he was hugging someone and rocking back and forth like he was having sex, even though he was completely alone. And then . . . - And then? - It . . . swallowed him. It collapsed like a big sinkhole and Paul fell into the earth. And then I went to get you but . . . now it's all gone � Paul, the dodecagon, the hole, like none of this happened. - What do you want to do, Harry? - Go down there. I swear there was a dodecagon, Seth. Blue, just like he was looking for. - I should never have let him come this way. - You couldn't have prevented it. He was determined to find it no matter what, he thought it would free him from that jockstrap. We trotted down to where Harry said the dodecagon had been. We found no trace of it, or any indication that the ground had been disturbed, nothing that gave credence to Harry's story � except that it was HARRY'S story, not that of some fabulist. - Do you want to dig? We could find some sharp rocks or tree branches and � - Seth. If there was a blue dodecagon here two minutes ago and now it's disappeared along with Paul, then it's powerful enough to not let us dig him up with a tree branch. - Shit. Fuck. Shit fuck shit. - That about sums it up. - We have to warn everyone to stay the hell away from these dodecagons. But how can we, Harry? It's a ridiculous story, who'd believe it? - They'll believe you, Seth. Everyone knows this place is strange. It � - They'll think we're dead. Especially now that Paul . . . looks like he's been buried alive. It will convince them that we're dead. - If we were already dead, why would Paul get killed a second time? And your note said specifically that you were not dead. - But Paul is, now. - Looks like it. But this place is so strange, Seth � anything's possible. - Anything's possible. I have to hold on to that. Maybe Paul's alive. Maybe � maybe Abe's still alive. MIDDLE OF THE ISLAND � PERCY Both of them! My sensor was going nuts. Both Derisian and Sebold were within range. The louder ping belonged to Sebold. Derisian was nearby, but further. I'd target Sebold, taking into account that he was straight, unlikely to bend over willingly. I'd have to use force. MIDDLE OF THE ISLAND � ABE I had to accept it: Seth was dead. Miraculously, our half of the plane had landed softly just off the coast of this island � that still didn't make sense � but there was no way that Seth's half could also have survived the plunge from the sky. Happy birthday, Abe � your lover is dead. This trip had been so full of promise. It was both my birthday and close to the first anniversary of our first date. There had been recent tension between us � ninety percent my fault. Seth thought the trip could supply the jumper cables that would re-energize the motor. After some thought, I realized I wanted exactly that � so yes, let's go. I realized some other things, too. Like some bad choices I had made. But then the plane broke apart. I'd gone to sleep on a beach with a dozen others � and awakened alone. Stan and Al had seemed like nice guys; we used each other's bodies for pillows. How could they have just up and left me? What kind of person would do that? I had to find a way out of this situation � and out of my despair. I wandered all day yesterday and found no one. No one at all � everyone who had washed up on the beach � vanished. What the fuck had happened to them? I found some fruit to stave my hunger, I found a stream for hydration, then curled up alone for a second night on the beach. I felt like Robinson Crusoe with no Friday. He eventually surmounted his difficulties � would I? Today was more of the same, exploring new areas of the island, passing through a hilly wooded section which eased its way down to a place where the woods opened up into a giant meadow. And I heard noise. Human noise. I was thrilled � initially. Even from a distance, I recognized them: One was the flight attendant, Percy, now inexplicably dressed in a sort of caftan. The other was a Black Bahamian named Theo. Of all the guys on the beach, he was the handsomest � someone whom a year ago I would have happily taken home for a night's escapades. He had a gorgeous body and a David Oyelowo kind of face. Sexy as all-get-out. But then Percy picked up a stone and hit Theo on the back of the head. Theo fell to the ground, and Percy began stripping off Theo's clothes and dropping his own. It looked for all the world like Percy was going to rape an unconscious Theo. I was frozen. I should run across and help, but � Percy had that stone. What if he knocked me out as well? He was a danger, I needed to stay out of sight. My fears were actualized: Percy started to fuck Theo. I couldn't believe my eyes. We were on an isolated island in the middle of nowhere, with no sign of rescue, and the flight attendant was raping one of the passengers? Theo regained consciousness but was obviously not clear-headed enough to put up much resistance; he lay there while Percy thrust himself deeply into the Black man. I was paralyzed � in a video, this would have been hot; in reality, not so much. When he had bred the Bahamian, Percy dressed and the two engaged in conversation. I saw with alarm that Percy was pointing a knife at Theo's chest, like a clich�d scene from a TV crime show. They headed into some woods, leaving Theo's clothes behind. Percy pulled out his phone from a pocket in the caftan (caftans had pockets?) and talked into it. He was making a phone call! Was this some kind of hot spot where you could get a signal? I dug my own phone out of my pocket and tried it. Nothing. Now what? I had to make sure I avoided Percy. I backtracked, heading toward the beach � I was getting hungry again and I knew there were coconuts there that had fallen to the ground. After eating, I gathered some stones and shells and wrote `HELP' in large letters, just in case a plane passed overhead. I walked further along the coast. It was approaching the end of the day, judging from the position of the sun. I sat down, took stock of my situation, and cried. I was alone, I was afraid, and Seth was dead. Seth was dead! I'd arrived on this island on my fucking birthday and Seth was dead! And we were going on this trip � why? Because things were tense. I loved Seth � I really did. Especially after what he had done on our trip to Indiana. But I had cheated on him. It had been going on for months. Most recently just a week ago, when Seth had tickets for a concert for a now-geriatric rock band. I declined the invitation. And accepted one I shouldn't have. I think he knew. I don't know how he would have found out about the other guy, but there was something in the way he proposed the trip to Aruba that made me suspect that he was really worried about my fidelity. Justifiably. I sat there alone as the light slowly faded. Then I got up and started arranging stones from the beach. Not a big arrangement like the `HELP' sign I wanted to be seen from the sky. A little arrangement, in letters about a foot high, made up of little stones. I was just compelled, I needed something to remind myself of him, a piece of him here. Now that he was dead. FLASHBACK � ABE (CLEVELAND) � December 6, a year ago - Not exactly the luxury pad you live in. My windows came with a view of the building next door. - Do the neighbors walk around in the nude? - I saw one once. - Ah. - A woman. - Oh. Too bad. - I keep the shades drawn most of the time. In case you want to walk around in the nude. Sorry, I meant, in case I want to walk around in the nude. I mean, when I'm alone. - Freudian slip? - Possibly. - A friend of mine says that all slips are Freudian. - Is that friend part of your complicated history? - Is that really why you asked me back here? To find out about my complicated history? No, it wasn't. Lust was burning through me. I wanted him to take me and take me hard. But, yeah, if he had a complicated history, I wanted to know about it. How complicated? Would it signal trouble ahead? - Maybe I have a complicated history of my own. - Do you? - That's a fifth date story. - Touch�. - Should I make you a gin-and-tipsy? - That's your drink. If you have any whiskey, I take it straight. - I take it gay, but I do have some Jack-off Daniels. - That'll do. No ice. - While I'm fixing the drinks, would you like to slip out of something comfortable? - You have a fascinating way of confusing a guy. First you tell me you want a no-sex date and now you can't wait five minutes for me to get naked. - You have a point. Five minutes is unfair. You can have ten. - No. - What? - No. We're not going to have sex tonight. This is not the fourth date, it's still the third. You can show me all the etchings you want, but I'm not going to get out of these clothes or ask you to get out of yours. - . . . Wow. Okay. . . .Was it something I said? - Yes. - About my complicated history? - No. - What, then? - You said it was time for you to get serious, that it was easy for you to find someone to pick up to go to bed with, and then you said "and then what? Another hot body for temporary pleasure? That's been my life." - Ouch. - No `ouch'. That's when you won me over, Abe. That's when I respected you for being more than just a sexy body. That's when I thought, this could be . . . real. - . . . - . . . - Can it? - Up to you. Up to us. - . . . Keep your clothes on. I'm still going to make a gin-and-tipsy. Let's talk. A half hour later Seth told me about PART of his complicated history. Yes, Ian was a part of it but he didn't go into detail, just said that Ian was a rebound from a previous boyfriend named Ysidro. And of course he had a bunch of past lovers � well, who doesn't? There was a Dieter and a Caleb and some others and then he got all moody when he mentioned someone named Sean. There was something important about this Sean. I followed up � gently � but it was clear that there was a painful memory there and I didn't want to push it. I wanted to know more, but knew that I couldn't � not until he was ready. I realized there was more depth to Seth than I had thought. He had suffered, in some significant way. Part of me said "Warning sign", and part of me said "He needs somebody. He really needs somebody." Could I be that somebody? Or would I be another in a chain of rebounds? When I saw that expression on his face, I pulled him toward me and held him. He pushed his head against my chest as if to bury himself in me. I started to get turned on, but this was not the time. That was not what he needed. He needed comfort. I kissed him. But we did not have sex. I switched on the TV and we watched an episode of White Lotus that I had stored. He didn't like it. I should have known. I offered to run House of Dragons, more his style, but he said no, it was time he got home. As he went out the door I wanted to kiss him again. Instead I said: - Some hot date, huh? - . . . It was just what I needed. Let's do this again. No sex. Just human beings. I liked that. I liked it, too. We didn't have sex again until the seventh date. But, oh, when we did, it was fireworks. A veritable Fourth of July. By then we were in love. THE BEACH � ABE I finished rearranging the stones. If I couldn't have him, at least I'd have a memory. Seth, this one's for you. The stones read: GIN AND TIPSY. Somehow they comforted me as I settled down on the western shore of the island and watched the sun sink slowly into the sea. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER FOURTEEN � DEPARTS AND LETTERS]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-19	Date: Wed, 13 Mar 2024 23:31:44 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 19 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER 19: CROSSING JORDAN Previously, on the surface: * After three Tower residents have been swallowed up by dodecagons on their birthdays (and presumed dead), Seth vows to protect Dai, whose birthday is next. Away from the island: * Stimulever sends Sean to Aruba to `neutralize' Jordan and Miles. Sean decides to shield them by transferring them to the temporary universe Betaworld. Stimulever board member Ari has been sent to America to neutralize the hacker Nick, and, if necessary, Jordan's sister Jen. Underground: * Lucas, captured by a dodecagon, is reunited underground with his former partner in cannibalism, Stefan, now one of Hamish's lieutenants. * Barry learns that as right-siders (`the Twelve') arrive underground, left-siders are being gelded; Stan (whom Ian has fallen in love with) is scheduled for castration on December 11th. In flashbacks: * Barry loses his job with Progresa Airlines after pictures of a bdsm session reach his boss (courtesy of Hamish). Hamish then pressures him to work for ZTA, but Barry makes plans to work for a foreign airline. * Stan and his wife agree to take separate vacations (he to Aruba, she to Peru) then meet up in Cartagena. * A week before the trip, Seth asked Abe to go with him to a Pearl Jam concert. Abe declined, without explanation. * * * * * * * * THURSDAY, DECEMBER 6 * * * * * * * * ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND � JES�S - Have we heard from Ari or Sean? - (Germ�n) Everything's under control. Sean reports that Murdock and King `are no more' � his words. Admittedly ambiguous, but a phone call to their hotel confirmed that no one of either name had been registered there in the past week. Sounds like he took them to Betaworld. - Smart move. He can dispose of them there, and no one will be any the wiser. The word from Ari? - The hacker is also no more, by more conventional means. Seems there was an intruder during the night. Ari had to take out the wife as well. Double-homicide, a major story in Louisville today. - The sister? - Jennifer Murdock insists she has no sibling named Jordan and has never heard of Zen Tropical Airways. More proof that Sean took his charges to Betaworld. - Perfect. As long as Sean disposes of them there. - And how would we know that he has? If he's still in Betaworld, we can't communicate with him. Everyone who can bridge between the two worlds is here. - Good point. We need someone on the spot. Germ�n, fly to Aruba and bridge to Betaworld. See if Jordan and Miles are still alive there. - Got it, chief. ORANJESTAD, ARUBA (BETAWORLD) � JORDAN Miles and I met at ten for a late breakfast. He arrived with a copy of The New York Times. - Did you see this? - I'm in Bizarro-world, and I'm supposed to take my time reading newspapers? - Yes, because in Betaworld � the proper name for it, you know � news coverage of the crash exists. Not like the runaround we got the other day. - And? - They've done some investigating. There's an expos� of the pilot. There was, indeed, a story about the pilot, front page, below the fold. He read me the first couple of paragraphs, under the headline ZTA PILOT HAD TROUBLED BACKGROUND. - A Times investigation into the background of Barry Russell, pilot of Zen Tropical Airways Flight 12, which vanished mysteriously over the Caribbean on November 30th, revealed that he had been fired several months earlier from his job as a pilot from Progresa Airlines, a regional carrier based in Santo Domingo. A spokeswoman for Progresa would not disclose details, but said his dismissal was for conduct inconsistent with company standards. - The Times has learned that Russell had a side-business engaging in sexual activities generally considered `kink'. Russell's ex-wife, Paloma Echevarr�a, told the Times that she was unaware of his proclivities when she married him, and was shocked to discover that most of his clients were men. Sources familiar with the situation confirmed that one of his clients was Andr�s Fernandez, who often co-piloted with Russell. Both men were fired by Progresa. Mr. Fernandez did not return calls from The Times. I stopped him, not wanting Miles to read further. I had a weird reaction to reading about Russell's kinky activities � I wanted to learn more. That prospect both scared me and turned me on a little, and I didn't understand that. I switched off that part of my brain and listened to Miles considering the implications of the article, which he thought gave us another line of argument for the lawsuit � why did ZTA hire this guy? I said we should bring that up with Sean, whom we were meeting at eleven. When I mentioned Sean, Miles seemed uncomfortable � I got the odd feeling that he was holding something back. FLASHBACK � MILES (MINNEAPOLIS) � January, this year - Omigod, omigod, omigod, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me! - I'm fucking you, baby. I'm fucking you, my beautiful Black bitch. - Harder! Harder! Harder! Yes, yes, yes! - I'm going to cum! - Me, too! - (Thrust! Thrust! Thrust! Thruuuuusssst!) AAAAAAHH! He pulled himself off me, ripped the condom off and dumped it in the wastebasket. I turned on my side to face him, and cupped his face in my hands. And kissed him for about thirty seconds. - Oh, god, Sean, that was wonderful. - You are my number one bitch, you know. - Is there a number two bitch? - . . . (grinning mischievously) Would I tell you if there was? - . . . Sean? Isn't it time you told me about your mysterious job? The reason you're always flying off somewhere? Like Switzerland. - That's corporate headquarters. - And Cleveland. - I have an important client there. - Yeah? Are you sure he's not your number two bitch? - I'm sure. - Your number one bitch? - Ah, you jealous fool. You, my dear, are my number one bitch. And always will be. FLASHBACK � SEAN (MINNEAPOLIS) � January, this year That was a lie. Miles was not my number one bitch. Making love to him was essential, but it was not an act of love. Fooling him into thinking it was � that was an art form. An art form I was exceedingly good at. Now came the tricky bit. If he didn't play along, it would be dangerous for Miles. I thought I had gotten to the point where he trusted me implicitly, but his questions about Cleveland made me wonder. - Miles, my job is very hush-hush. - Obviously. Your hushes are very loud. - They have to be. It's so complex that � I don't even know how to describe it. - Listen, I don't have to know. As long as you're not some kind of hit man for the CIA or something. You don't kill people, right? - (grinning widely) Well, I do stab people, but only with what's between my legs. No, Miles, my job is nothing unethical. And, to be honest, the time has come to bring you into it. - ME? Why? - You have a role to play. But you're going to have to trust me, and trust me absolutely. - Trust you absolutely? I do, but . . . you're being very mysterious. - First of all, Miles, I need you to know this: I love you. I am head-over-heels, rip-roaringly in love with you. (No, I'm not.) - Oh, god, Sean, I've been waiting for weeks to hear you say that. Because I love you so much, I can't stand it. - I need you to know that whatever I ask you to do it's because I love you. It has to do with my job � a secret project � in fact, we call it The Project, it's that big. I can't explain it to you, but you need to be part of it. - Sean, you're terrifying me. - Babe, I love you. You and me � we're good. Trust me, this is all for us. - Enough of the convincing, tell me what you're convincing me to do. - I need you to start seeing someone else. - WHAT?! - Calm down. I told you, I can't explain it, but . . . it's what they call a long con. We have to fool someone into thinking you love him. (Like I'm fooling you . . .) - So that you can manipulate him into doing something that advances your project. - Exactly. Or, so that you can. - Why can't YOU romance him? - I'm not his type � you are. He's all top, and he likes small, fit Black guys. He's Black, too � big strong guy, he's a physical trainer. - Well, he does sound intriguing. - See? It won't be that hard for you to hook him. Just remember you belong to me. - So how do I meet this guy? - You're going to join his health club. And you're going to work out in your skimpiest pair of shorts and no shirt. When you sign up, ask for him to be your personal trainer. . . . His name is Vic. He bought it. God, I'm a good actor. THE THRONE ROOM � BARRY It was a little tough to breathe. There was a lot of weight on top of my body � two bodies worth. I was lying flat on my back. Above me was Percy's toy Abe. Above Abe was Percy. Percy was fucking the shit out of Abe. And Abe's cock and balls were stuffing my mouth. With every thrust of Percy's cock up Abe's ass, Abe's cock got pushed deep into me. His abdomen was pushed hard against my face. I couldn't breathe through my mouth, which had to stretch to absorb the fullness of his genitalia, including the entire scrotum. My nose had pubic hair against it, and barely room to take in any air at all. The combined weight of the two bodies was pressing against my chest, making it difficult for me to push my diaphragm up and down. As I have commented before, something about this atmosphere gave all the tops here incredible stamina. For as soon as Percy came inside Abe's ass, our positions were switched. I got to be in the middle, pushing my cock into Abe's mouth, while Percy took his talented cock and rammed it up my vulnerable asshole. Abe, being considerably smaller than me, was having an even more difficult time breathing, as the combined weight of Percy and myself was substantial. But he had no choice in the matter; as Percy assaulted my hind quarters, I actively assaulted Abe's mouth. I was going to get my rocks off, and Abe was going to drink every drop. When Percy had shot his load, I hadn't yet shot mine, but I rose up and fucked Percy's little cumdump until I unleashed a gusher into his belly. It felt wonderful, more than making up for the discomfort in my rectum, and it pleased me more than a little that he coughed from having to swallow my joyjuice so rapidly. If I was Hamish's pet dog, Abe had become Percy's pussycat � or just his pussy. He was special somehow, seemingly even more important to Percy and Hamish than the right-siders, the so-called Twelve, the supposed VIPs of this sick mission of theirs, whatever it was. I knew the mission revolved around someone named Herrick � they kept mentioning that name. Eventually, I figured out that Abe was connected to this Herrick. They never discussed Herrick directly with Abe, however. I only caught wind of the relationship from remarks Hamish made when he was not around Abe. Abe, like me, was not supposed to initiate conversation. Unlike me, he obeyed that directive. So it surprised me when, post-coitus, Abe got bold: - Sir, may I ask you something? Whoa, it speaks. Not the way I speak, of course. Abe is so damn polite and deferential, the little ass-kisser. `Sir', he calls Percy. Percy, not me. I wanted to puke. THE THRONE ROOM � ABE I don't know what prompted me to say that. I was supposed to be silent and not speak unless ordered to. But, Percy was not Hamish. Hamish was strict but Percy � well, I felt like he liked me, maybe he wouldn't mind having a real conversation. There was so much I didn't understand � maybe he'd tell me. And my heart was aching. I had to let him know that. - Sir, did you see my message on the beach? - (Percy) What � the HELP sign? That won't do any good. No plane will see it, I guarantee that. - No, the other one. It said GIN AND TIPSY. It was a lot smaller than the big HELP sign. - GIN AND TIPSY. What is that, some kind of private joke? - More of a remembrance. I wrote it for someone who will never read it. - Herrick? - . . . You know about Seth? - Of course we know about Seth. He's the entire reason you're here. I saw him, you know. - You saw Seth? He's alive? - He's alive. - Was he all right? Where? Where did you see him? - On the beach. Not far from where I found you. I think he was searching for you. - Oh, wow, Percy � I mean, Sir � you don't know how that makes me � he's really okay? You're sure it was him? - I'm sure. - If you go back up . . . could you give him a message? - He knows you're alive, Abe. We told him that. - Oh, thank god. Are the others � is everyone from the plane here? - Yes. Abe, I've answered enough of your questions. But I have one for you � you who seem so concerned about him � does he know you cheated on him? - What are you talking about? I never cheated on him. - Don't lie, Abe. It's beneath you. FLASHBACK: ABE (CLEVELAND) � Friday, November 27, this year (nine days ago) - What am I doing here? What AM I doing here? I decided, after my recent trip home, that I wouldn't cheat on Seth anymore. - You hate Pearl Jam. - I do. But I should have gone with him. - And yet you're here with me. - So I am. I was going to break up with him tonight. That's why I'm here. And � oh, jeez, he just put his arms around me. And he's taking off my shirt. - We shouldn't be doing this. - No one expects perfect fidelity, Abe. You aren't even living together, you're free to play around. - And you, Sean? You play around? You got a guy in Minneapolis and a guy in Switzerland? - I sow the occasional wild oat. But when I'm in Cleveland, it's you and no one else. I got you, Abe. Hey � Sonny and Cher, right? (singing) I Got You, Abe. - Great. You could go with Seth to their reunion tour. - That'd be a bit tough. Sonny died years ago. - Oh. And now my pants are off and he's sticking his hand down the back of my briefs � and now they're on the floor. His hand's on my bare butt and his finger is . . . - Besides, do you think Seth doesn't play around? You're not exactly his first, you know. - I know. He's had a bunch of boyfriends � one was even named Sean. I'm not sure what happened between them, but something serious, because I don't think Seth's ever really gotten over him. - Oh, yeah, that was me. - Ha ha, very funny. No, this guy was into bdsm, used to put him in handcuffs � he even left his handcuffs behind and Seth actually used them on me once. - Did you like it? - No. I mean . . . I might have, but he didn't ask me. - What if I asked you? - . . . I'd have to think about it. - Don't worry, I'm not that kinky. Now come with me so I can jam your pearl with my cock. Okay, so tonight wasn't the night. I'm still breaking up with him, though. Next week for sure. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH A quiet day, for a change. No one had encountered any dodecagons, new or old. That was a relief. The group was adjusting to a reduced wardrobe � one pair of underwear in the entire ensemble, and its wearer (Tim) had no trousers; Ed, Dai, and Augie were bare-chested as well. Six pairs of shoes that could be shared, for food or water runs. Except by me � if I borrowed shoes, they might vanish as the island asserted its authority over me, insisting on perpetual nudity. By now, I was used to walking in the woods barefoot; the soles of my feet were like leather. Today was December 6th, the anniversary of the date at the Armenian restaurant which Ian, anxious to set me up with Abe, had intruded upon. Days later, Ian flew off to Martinique and had never returned. He never called, never sent a text or email, not even a post card. He just disappeared from my life. Ian had been a fling, a more serious fling than some, but I was still on the rebound from the rebound from the rebound from Sean, who had destroyed my life while setting me on a path toward rebuilding it. Thinking about Ian led me to thinking about Sean. Where was he, had he found someone else to be happy with? He seemed pretty resilient; when the tragedy happened and we broke up, I felt like he was going to land on his feet. I wasn't sure I was, but he seemed capable of moving on. I wonder if he did � I never saw him again after I said good-bye. He flew off to Switzerland like he so often did, and, I don't know, maybe he stayed there. And Ian � had Ian found happiness in Martinique? Ironic if he had stayed on there and we were both in the Caribbean now. But, as much as I resented his failure to contact me in the past year, I will always be grateful to him for allowing me to repair my nascent relationship with Abe. Mind you, it's been rocky at times, but the moment we sat down on that plane at Hopkins and headed for Miami I felt such joy and such confidence that this trip would be the one that cemented our partnership for years on end. Now? Who knows if I would ever see Abe again. At least he was alive. I was convinced that whoever had him was using him to get at me. It was clearer and clearer to me that I � for some inexplicable reason � was at the center of all this. And so, in my way, I was responsible for his capture. Three others were gone now � perhaps they were alive, too, despite the visual evidence. Maybe they were wherever Abe was. If I had some kind of assurance that even one of them � Paul or Leo or Lucas � was still alive, it would give me such hope. Wherever they are, alive or dead, I had to make sure Dai didn't join them tomorrow. NEAR THE PHALLIC TOWER � DAI Seth had decreed that either he or Harry was to be with me at all times, even though it was a day before my birthday. Most of the guys were on missions � finding food, doing laundry or getting water, and I was alone at the tower with Harry and Ed, both of whom had surrendered their pants to be washed. This rendered Ed nude (his shirt had disappeared with Leo), but, unselfconscious about his body, he lay in the sun seeking a full-body tan. Harry had a shirt to partially cover himself, but, being shy, chose to stay inside the tower. I took the opportunity to sneak away for a wank, knowing that Harry would never follow me � and Ed probably didn't care. I told Harry what I was doing � well, not the wanking part, but a call of nature, and told him exactly where I was going � within fifty yards of the tower, and nowhere near a dodecagon. Confident of being unobserved, I dropped my jeans to the ground and initiated the familiar ritual of hand on dick. What did I think about while I was masturbating? Almost always the same thing. Almost always the moment when I really indulged in my sexuality fully for the first time. FLASHBACK � DAI (PALO ALTO, CALIFORNIA) � fourteen years ago It was my second year at Stanford. I had joined a fraternity consisting mostly of Asian men. There were a lot of Asian students at Stanford, which was both comforting and uncomfortable � there was that stereotype, there was resentment, and enough racism to make us want to seek out the company of others like ourselves. In my case, `others like ourselves' would have included gay men, but my fraternity was mostly straight. Unlike most of my brothers, I had no money. My parents were struggling to pay their bills, and I had gotten into Stanford on a full scholarship. Any spending money I had came from part-time jobs. One of the fraternity's traditions was that everyone got a tattoo, displayed prominently on his chest. The Asian students traditionally got one in the language of their culture, which gave them identity, knowing that only a select group could read it. But I couldn't afford to waste my money on a tattoo. My roommate Yuto had a `solution' for my problem. I roomed with him because he was Japanese and because he was gay. Yuto was experienced, and sexually secure. I was inexperienced, and sexually insecure. Yuto was more than willing to take my virginity, but I was a bit of a perfectionist, and I wanted the moment to be exactly right � the right guy at the right time, with me on top. I also had the issue of my prodigious seminal output to deal with � when I unleashed my load into a mouth or ass, would it get me labeled as a freak? `Don't let the perfect become the enemy of the good', they always say, and I was doing just that. And so I remained a virgin, which annoyed Yuto to no end. Nevertheless, he was a good friend, and when I had no money for a tattoo, he told me not to worry. - Listen, Dai, the place I got mine � they have flexible payments. - You mean like an installment plan? - I mean like they might let you work it off. These guys are great with the needle and not so great in the brains department. They need help with the business end � paperwork and tax filings and such. They've hired Stanford students to do that for them, and I'll bet you could negotiate an agreement with them to do some work for them in exchange for a tattoo. I'll call them and find out. Yuto reported back that they had agreed to make `a special arrangement' with me, and I walked into `4 Bros Body Art' with optimism and confidence. There were, indeed, four brothers, surnamed `Mayer', and they led me into a back room away from the storefront. I told them what I wanted � a kana on my chest that read `Champion Engineer', which was what I was studying to be � and asked about the special arrangement. They said that for a single tattoo like this, they wouldn't require much work from me, an hour a week for four weeks. I'd come in at closing time so I could use their office space without customers being present. I agreed instantly. I removed my shirt and they put me in a chair that looked like it belonged in a dentist's office. Then came the first surprise. They strapped my arms down and ran another strap across my midriff. When I questioned that, they said that they wanted to keep me still during the process so that they didn't accidentally make a mistake. They got out their needles and one of them bent over my chest. The second surprise was hands at my belt buckle. - Whoa, what are you doing? - Hey, you got a nice body, we'd like to see it while we're working on you. Don't worry, no one will come in. We closed the shop. Before I knew it, I was naked. More straps held my legs in place. I felt the buzz of the needle on my chest � and I felt something else below the waist. Lips. - Hey! - Relax, Daisuke Omi. It's a little anesthetic, take your mind off the pain. - The pain isn't that bad. I don't � hey! - Don't fight it. You're cute and this is something we like to do. So just lie back and enjoy it. Strapped in place like I did, I had no choice but to do just that. The man sucking my cock was named Patrick, and his rough tongue got my cock stiff in no time. - Oh yeah, Dai boy, you need this, and you need it bad. My first blow job, done under absolutely opposite conditions than my schemed scenario � rather than me being totally in control, I was totally being controlled. Patrick went down on me with skill, stimulating every square inch of my cock with his moistness, teasing my frenulum, and then plunging down deep and taking my cockhead down to his throat. His lips coursing up and down my shaft filled me with ecstasy, and it wasn't long before I yelled that I was about to come, and his brother Dane, who was wielding the needle, paused to let me shoot. And I shot. And shot. And shot. Patrick drank every ounce of it, and it seemed to last forever. - (Patrick) Holy shit, this guy pumped like thirteen times! - (A brother, one of the twins) Do you supposed there's more in there? - (Patrick) I don't see how. Another mouth, belonging to a twin named Lander, encompassed my cock, which immediately stiffened. - No, I have no more left! Seriously! - (Lander) Let's see about that. Meanwhile, Dane, the tattooist, had finished with my chest, and called out "My turn!" The back of the chair suddenly tipped back so that my head was below the horizontal � and at waist height. Before I knew it, Dane had shed his pants and, standing behind the chair and facing his cocksucking brother, was stuffing his thick organ into my mouth. - (Dane) This is how you're paying for your tattoo, pal. - (Patrick) We don't need any business help. - (Lander) Your friend Yuto said you needed this. - (the other twin, Xander) You're really hot. We'd try out your ass but Yuto said you're a top and we don't want to mess with that. But we figure oral goes both ways. Oral was, indeed, going both ways, simultaneously. Dane's cock, by no means a small one, was raping my throat. While I was gagging left right and sideways, I adjusted to the feel of it and once I caught the rhythm of how to breathe, began to revel in the sensation. Meanwhile, Lander was working on my cock, which, despite having spilled an enormous load into his brother, managed to produce additional output � a mere five spurts, but not nothing. - (Lander) I think that's about it on this end, guys. - (Xander) Fortunately, he can take more in his mouth. All four of them stuffed my mouth with their organs before I was released. They took me in front of the mirror to see the tattoo, which read `Champion'. - Hey, where's the rest of it? I wanted it to say `Champion Engineer'. - (Patrick) You get the rest of it after you've met your obligation. Four weeks. This one doesn't count. You suck all our cocks, and we get to blow you until you have nothing more to give. Yuto was unapologetic. - Someone had to light a fire under you, Dai. You're nineteen years old � your sexual peak. The way you were going, it would take years for you to lose your virginity. It had to be done. Now go out there and find someone to stick your dick into � and drill his ass like I know you want to. I returned to 4 Bros Body Art for each of the next four weeks. After sucking sixteen additional cocks, I had fulfilled my obligation; they put me back in the chair, and � while still fully nude � completed the tattoo. When I looked in the mirror, though, I was furious. Instead of the kana reading `Champion Engineer', it read `Champion Cocksucker'. Yuto laughed so hard I thought he was going to have a heart attack. But he made me a deal. If he brought a guy to the room and I fucked him in Yuto's presence, he would pay to have the tattoo removed. And that's how my sex life was launched. And why I no longer have a tattoo on my chest. Since then, I've had lots of great sex � and no meaningful relationships. AN UNDERGROUND HALLWAY � BARRY Hamish was either off fucking somebody or scheming some evil deed. So I was free to wander about, until His Royal Hatefulness summoned me. On my wanders, I ran into Ian. - Hey, Barry, they let you go early today? - Until they want me again, yeah. They had me in a three-way where I was on the bottom of the pile and getting crushed. Percy has a pet, like Hamish has me � but this guy never gets out, just spends all his time in the Throne Room. You probably don't even know who I'm talking about � his name's Abe. Ever hear of him? Percy always calls him by his last name � Delusian, something like that. Personally, I think we're all under a delusian. - Derisian? Abe Derisian? - Yeah, that's it. - Abe Derisian is down here? I heard he was on the surface. - What, you know him? Short guy, dark hair, narrow face, well-cut beard? - That's him. - Class A ass! But don't get your hopes up. He's off limits to anyone but the Clothed Ones. Listen, Ian, I've been wanting to tell you. You work for the Boss, you hear some shit, you know? - What have you heard? - You like this guy Stan, right? - Yeah. So? - He's on a schedule. - . . . What kind of schedule? - I'm sorry, but . . . look, they brought a dozen guys down here, the `left-siders'. - Sure, Stan's one of them. - But other guys are arriving, right? The ones they call `The Twelve'? When they do, a left-sider loses his balls. They cut my co-pilot Phil, then made me fuck him. Hey, he was a good fuck, I enjoyed it, may he rest in peace, but they shouldn't have castrated him first. - Whoa, what do you mean `may he rest in peace', and what does this have to do with Stan? - Yesterday, another Twelve came down from upstairs. And Hamish and Percy, they're saying they have too many balls, they gotta cut a left-sider. So they cut some guy named Curtis. Anyway, Curtis ain't here today. Which is like a pattern: The day after they chop your balls . . . you go bye-bye. - Yeah, they release them when they don't need them anymore. - Ian, Ian, are you na�ve? I've been here less than a week, I know what's what more than you do. Believe me, if they release these guys, they're releasing them to the great brothel in the sky, if you know what I mean. They don't send them home to mommy. - You're saying they kill them? - They killed Phil. They made me do it, I shot him in the head while he was asleep. They said if I didn't, they'd kill him in some awful manner, and I couldn't let that happen. Listen, there's supposed to be a guy coming tomorrow and another on the 11th. And your pal Stan � he sings soprano that day � the 11th. He's on the schedule. And I think that means that on the 12th it's Fertilizer City. - No. No, Barry, no. - Look, sorry, I know you like the guy, but � - This can't happen. - Yeah, I wanted to let you know, I thought maybe you could talk to Percy, he likes you. I don't think anyone can persuade Hamish, but Percy, now, he might listen to you, and then maybe Percy could talk to Hamish, you know? - Right. . . Thanks, Barry. . . . I guess. - Good luck, pal. - I don't . . . I don't know if I can stop them. Hamish � he seems . . . unstoppable. - You said a mouthful there, my friend. FLASHBACK � BARRY (SANTO DOMINGO) � May, this year I was making my plans. I'd accepted the job from Ethiopian Airlines. All I had to do was sneak out of the country without Hamish noticing. He'd gotten me fired, and now was pressuring me into working for him. He didn't say for HIM � it was this Zen Tropical outfit � but I had the feeling he had more of a stake in it than just owning stock. He had pictures of me and Andr�s that he could blackmail me with, and if he knew where I was going he could get me fired again. But he couldn't possibly send them to every airline in the world on the off-chance that I would go to work for them. If I booked a flight in my own name, he'd be able to find me, I was certain of that. But there was one thing I had up my sleeve. When I married Paloma, she wanted to hyphenate our names. I actually had a passport made up under the name Barry Russell-Echevarr�a. I'd make my plane reservations under the name B. Echevarr�a. And I wouldn't fly directly to Addis Ababa. I would take a circuitous route � Santo Domingo to Madrid to Lome to Addis Ababa. All on different airlines. I'd have to get someone to take care of Lash, my cocker spaniel. Lash was the best male companion I never fucked, but Luis from downstairs could take care of him. I'd leave Lash on his doorstep, with a note. Luis loved Lash, if not his name; he'd take him in. But leaving Santo Domingo brought heaviness to my heart. Not because of Paloma, I was happy to leave her. But my little boy. Rafa, my son, the result of my indiscretion with Paloma and the cause of my misguided marriage to her. I would never see him again. If I had enough courage, I'd swoop in, grab him, and take him with me, but that was fantasy: Paloma would be even more determined than Hamish to track me down, and what would I do with him in Addis Ababa when I was flying? My flight was tomorrow night. On my way out, I'd tie Lash to Luis's doorknob. I'd take back streets, abandon my car halfway to the airport, and take a taxi from there. I'd make myself damn untraceable. And then I walked up the steps to my apartment; when I opened the door there was Lash. Not waiting for me. Lying lifeless on the floor. Burnt to a crisp. A note was pinned to his charred fur: NOT THINKING OF LEAVING, ARE YOU? THINK AGAIN OR THIS WILL BE YOUR SON. The next week I started to work for Zen Tropical Airways. THE DORMITORY � LUCAS I knew instinctively that where I had landed � and so felicitously reunited with Stefan � was the answer to the question "What happened to Leo and Paul?" Unless I was kept isolated, I figured I would run into them sooner or later. But I didn't expect to be rooming with them. After my joyous sex with Stefan, they sent a dude named Barry � who looked a few years older than me � to escort me to my chambers, which turned out to be a sort of dormitory, with a dozen beds. Two of which were occupied by a pair of the most delicious bodies that Flight 12 had carried here. I didn't know which to address first. I started with Paul, the easier target. - So, Paul, what's with the jockstrap? Don't want us to see your junk? Looks like you got a decent package there, why don't you take that thing off and let me check it out? - Oh, shit, Lucas. Of all the guys to show up down here, it had to be you? You want me to lose the jockstrap? Go ahead, be my guest. Take it off me. Just try. You'll be doing me a favor. - Still superglued on, eh? Well, never mind, that's the nice thing about jocks, there's still plenty of access to your most attractive feature. You have quite a spectacular rump there, Paul. - . . . - Maybe it's already been taken for a test drive? - Wait till you're here a couple of days, Lucas. You won't be making so many jokes about asses when yours is the center of attention. - Paul, I never joke about asses. Yours is top notch. Now Leo here, he's got a decent ass, but it pales in comparison to yours. - (Leo) Fuck you, Lucas. - Likewise, I'm sure. So you going to give me back my shoes, now? - (Leo). . . . Yeah, right. You see me wearing them? - I think you should pay a little penalty for stealing my shoes and then losing them. A penalty called, I don't know � sodomy? - (Leo) Get lost, Lucas. - Hmmm, switched from `fuck you' to `get lost'. Maybe you don't want to think about the word `fuck' when it comes to old Lucas, huh? I started to move on him and he scrambled across one of the beds to another one. - (Paul) Lucas, leave him alone. - What, you his buddy now? . . . Yeah, I can see you're real fond of Leo, we all are. We all know he's a flaming asshole. Paul, if I were you, I'd stay out of this. And let me deal with Leo. - (a new voice) Sure, Luke, you deal with Leo. I'll take care of Paul. I haven't fucked him yet. - Hey, Stefan, I didn't see you come in. You up for a little tag-team action? - You bet, bud. - (Leo) No way! Absolutely no way! - (Stefan) You have to obey me, I'm a lieutenant. When I want sex, you have to comply � or you'll spend a couple of hours with the Unholy Trio. I understand you've already met us. - (Leo, grudgingly) Yeah, what of it? - (Stefan) Fun, wasn't it? Alec, Mac, and me � we're the ones Hamish sends bad boys to when he wants them to learn a lesson. My lessons are worse than Alec's, Leo. So if I tell you to bend over, you bend over. - (Leo) I have to bend over for you. I don't have to bend over for him. - (Stefan) You have to obey me. And I say you're going to get fucked by my buddy Lucas. - (Leo) Your buddy? - He and I knew each other on the other side. You're lucky you didn't run into us in Chicago, that's all I can say. - (Leo) Why? You said the same thing to me a couple of days ago. - Trust me, kid, you don't want to know. Now bend over � Stefan, you want to do Paul first? Yeah, first. Leo took some convincing � like pushing him up against the wall and pounding him in the kidneys � but he said `uncle' and bent over like a good puppy. His insides were as silky as one could have hoped. He squealed a lot, still not used to taking it up the ass, but driving my power tool into his backside was one of the all-time great pleasures. I rode Paul, too, after Stefan had opened him up good. Paul was an even more satisfactory fuck than Leo. Mainly because he liked it. Leo was gay, but it was clear that back in Atlanta he was pitching plenty but not used to catching. Well, that would change here. But Paul � Paul was pure catcher. He had a sexy little butt, and it felt great around cock. Maybe he didn't like having no choice, but he did like feeling my ten-incher reaming his ass. Stefan was equal in length to me, and ten percent thicker, so he gave our little Virginian � Virginian, not virgin � a heavy workout. Even though it was Leo I wanted to punish, Paul was the one who wound up bleeding. Fortunately, Stefan had informed me, down here repair to a damaged rectum was near-instantaneous, and he'd be good for multiple rounds tomorrow. As I was pulling out of Paul, I heard a voice, as if on a P.A. system. . - Lucas, Stefan, report to the Throne Room. I turned to Stefan. - Throne Room? - Hamish's suite. Hamish . . . can be a scary fellow � not to me, but to some. Be respectful. To my surprise, Hamish had summoned us to lavish us with praise. Hamish loved that I had raped my fellow captives, and liked my doubling up with Stefan. He, of course, was aware of our past history. He told me that, while I would be fucked daily, he would restrict the privilege to Stefan. And he would give me free rein to force any of my fellow captives to accept my cock in either orifice. If I kept it up, other privileges might follow. So much for Hamish being a scary fellow. ORANJESTAD, ARUBA � JORDAN I spent the day, my first in Betaworld, with Miles and Sean. The newness of this double-world reality was getting to be overwhelming, and Sean suggested we just chill out at the beach � partly so I could see that I could be comfortable in Betaworld, that it was nothing to be afraid of. I agreed, but first I needed to buy some swimming trunks � I'd only brought a woman's swimsuit, complete with padding. I'm not so sure how comfortable I was when I saw Sean in his swimming trunks. His chest was perfection � smooth, well-formed pecs, not too big, but well-molded, above abs a woman in a third-world country could wash her clothes on. Not a body-builder, and yet chiseled. Like a gymnast. I was in lust. The feeling seemed to be mutual, and Miles didn't like it. I never thought of Miles as any kind of a prude, but when Sean rubbed suntan lotion on my back � and let his hand slip under my trunks to caress the top of my butt, a disapproving look crossed Miles's face. I would have thought he was jealous if he wasn't so attached to Vic. That evening Sean took us to El Paradiso, one of the best restaurants on the island � on his expense account, he said, the sky's the limit. We were sitting there nursing our pre-prandial Mai-Tais when a blonde woman in her early twenties with an angular face approached our table and spoke to Miles. - (woman) Excuse me, are you Miles King? - (Miles) I am. - (woman) Magda Kowalczyk. I've been looking for you and Jordan Murdock. The concierge said you were here. - I'm Jordan Murdock. - (Magda) They told me Jordan Murdock was a woman. - (Sean, pitching in to spare me awkwardness) Amazing how people can give you false information. - (Magda) Well, anyway, I heard you were suing ZTA over the plane crash. I want in. - Yes? - (Magda) My husband was on that plane. We were actually taking separate vacations because we had different interests, but we were supposed to meet in Cartagena on Saturday. And now he's gone, but ZTA won't even comment on the fact that he's dead. They just say the plane disappeared and they're investigating. - (Miles) We know. - (Magda) He didn't make out a will, but as his widow, I should inherit. But unless we can prove he's dead � well, doesn't it take seven years before they declare a missing person dead? Nice woman, this. - (Miles) Actually, we're not sure we're going through with the lawsuit. We've made some contacts with their parent company, and I think they'll settle with us privately. This is news to me, Miles. - (Magda) Oh. Oh, I see. You don't care about all the rest of us who lost our loved ones in the crash, you're just going to make a private deal for yourselves. - (Miles) That's not � - (Magda) I know your type. Sorry, I got some misinformation about what kind of people you were. (to me) And even what gender you are. I see I'm wasting my time with the likes of you. And she stalked off. Miles turned to me and smiled. - (Sean) Well, that got rid of her. Good job, Miles. - (Miles, to me) You didn't think I meant it, did you? About giving up the lawsuit? - I didn't think you'd say that in front of Sean. Unless you and he have something going. Okay, maybe that was me being jealous. I WAS attracted to Sean, which racked me with guilt, especially since I knew Augie was still alive � in Betaworld. But something about Miles wasn't quite right, and it had to do with Sean. - (Sean) She's just after his money. In Alphaworld, Magda Kowalczyk is in Peru sleeping with a different guy each night. And I have it on good authority that Stan Kowalczyk may be rethinking his heterosexuality. He's still alive, too, of course. - In Betaworld. And in Alpha world? - Not sure. - But I'm only in Betaworld. Am I trapped here forever? - Not such a bad fate. Betaworld in Aruba is just like Alphaworld. I hope you saw that today � not such a bad place to be, temporarily. In Betaworld, you can call Jen and talk to her. - And in Alphaworld? - Jen doesn't have a brother. - And she doesn't know Augie. - Augie's family doesn't know Augie. He exists only here in Betaworld. If you talk to Jen about him in Betaworld, remember that he's supposedly dead. - Where is he? - On an island � a very special island � that doesn't exist in Alphaworld. - Can he come here? Augie � I need to see him again, I need to know that he's all right, and that you aren't just lying through your teeth about him being alive. - You will see him again. And Miles, you'll see Vic again. But neither one of them is coming here. Tomorrow I'm taking you both to the island. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER TWENTY � NEW ARRIVALS]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-22	Date: Sat, 23 Mar 2024 18:09:28 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 22 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER 22: ALTERING THE PLAN Previously, on the island's surface: * Jordan and Miles, brought to the island by Sean, are progressing northward; they set a course for a multi-colored object they've spotted in the distance. * Seth, aware that Augie's birthday is upcoming, is trying to protect him from exposure to the green dodecagon, his `danger color'. In Switzerland: * Aware of intruders on the island, Jes�s orders up a rainstorm, drawing the Twelve inside the tower and locking it to keep the intruders out. Underground: * Leo, having discovered that Percy's route to the surface requires entry of a code, develops plans to abduct him and force him to surrender it; he recruits Stan, Al, Theo, and Piers to join him in his escape attempt, and targets Paul and Dai as well. * Ian learns that Stan, like all left-siders, is slated for castration and probable execution. In not-exactly-a-flashback: * Augie once showed up unannounced at Jordan's apartment, catching him out of drag. Jordan passed himself off as `her' fictional brother, Jeremy. FLASHBACK: JES�S (ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND) - June 12, 2018 (five and a half years ago) [Author's Note: the above date aligns with the story taking place in 2023; however, the days of the week don't match with the 2023 calendar. This is either deliberate or a mistake � I can't decide which. � T.C.] I'd assembled the Board for a status report on The Project: - Most of Betaworld has been constructed, after cloning Alphaworld. All that remains are the island and ZTA, which need to be built from scratch. They should be finished by the end of next year. We will install Hamish on the island in December 2020 and begin populating his underground domain with lieutenants and bottoms, one lieutenant and eleven bottoms every three months, culminating in Flight 12, which will arrive on the island on December 1, 2023. - Our biggest task is identifying the 27 occupants of Flight 12 � both crew and passengers. - Crew, totaling three: According to the physics, the pilot must be born on December 1 and be the same age as the Trigger Man or separated from him by twelve years. The database has turned up the ideal candidate � one Barry Russell, age 35 � who, as a bonus, engages in male-on-male bdsm. We will ensure he is hired by ZTA. The flight attendant will be Percy. The co-pilot is irrelevant; he won't be around long. - Passengers will total twenty-four: twelve on the left, twelve on the right. The Trigger is to be seated on the right, along with the remaining members of the Twelve, who must meet the following criteria: o they must be gay or bisexual, with some complication or unresolved issue, which may include denial of being gay; they should not be romantically involved, though this may not be an absolute requirement. o they must have a December birthday on a date that is a prime number; o they must be geographically separate in a way that divides the country into twelve regions. The metric that best satisfies this criterion is the twelve Federal Reserve Districts, with the best simulations resulting if the Twelve reside close to a bank. o in a rather surprising requirement, each must be born in a different year under the Chinese calendar, although not necessarily twelve consecutive years; o each must have a previous encounter with one of Hamish's lieutenants or one of us. This encounter must have a sexual context, though not necessarily sexual relations. - This last requirement means we must identify The Twelve before sending any lieutenants to Betaworld. Fortunately, we've got two and a half years to do that, and have extensive data on every adult male on the planet. The left-siders, aside from the Trigger's boyfriend, don't matter much, as long as they're male, under thirty-six, and have no gay partner. They will be used sexually and meet the same fate as the bottoms sent to the island on the previous ZTA flights. - (Fred) And that fate is � ? - Castration and subsequent execution. - (Ari) Excellent! - I knew you'd approve, Ari. As for the rest of you, please, no hand-wringing over ethics: this will only befall the Beta versions of these men. Their Alpha-lives will continue uninterrupted and oblivious to what is going on in Betaworld. Remember that Betaworld is only temporary and will disintegrate the moment The Project is activated. There is no real harm done to these men, but the physics requires their Beta-lives to be terminated. - (Dion) I thought that once you were on the island, you disappeared from Alphaworld and no one remembered you. - In general, that's correct, Dion, but it's a bit complicated. The Twelve will indeed cease to exist in Alphaworld, including in the memories of others. Bottoms, however, will co-exist in both worlds, at least until their Beta-lives are terminated. The lieutenants are a bit of a hybrid: they will be purged from Alphaworld, but because they are linked to a Twelve, that Twelve will remember him, as will anyone he mentions the lieutenant to � temporarily. - (Arturo) Temporarily? - Say a Twelve mentions a lieutenant to a friend, in conversation. The friend will know who he is talking about during the conversation, but won't remember it afterwards. - (Sean) Tell us about the Trigger - he seems to be the critical component. - He is, Sean. His criteria, according to the extensive computer modeling Thibaut and Dolph have done, are, sad to say, exacting: o he must be born on the cusp of a new year, within one minute of midnight; o like The Twelve, he must be gay but with an unresolved issue about it; o he must be under thirty-six, attractive, and have leadership qualities; o he MUST be involved in a relationship, but one undergoing some kind of stress; his lover is to be among the left-siders; and o there must be a tragedy in his life related to his homosexuality. - Despite our extensive database, no one meets all five criteria. Only six men in the entire world even meet the first three conditions; we have targeted the lone American among them to be our Trigger. His name is Lee Seth Herrick, known as Seth. He was born so close to midnight on New Year's Eve that the doctors weren't sure which date to put on his birth certificate. He is gay, but married to a woman, with triplet sons � satisfying the second requirement. He is handsome, well-built, a natural leader, and twelve years younger than our pilot. Thus, ideal. However, he lacks the last two criteria. We'll wait on the romantic relationship � something may develop organically; if not, we'll take steps about a year before Flight 12 � that will allow time for the relationship to both mature and develop complications. The more difficult need is the tragedy. Sean, I'm assigning this to you. Insinuate yourself into his life, confuse him, discover his vulnerabilities � then set things in motion that will emotionally devastate him. - (Sean) Roger, chief. * * * * * * * * FRIDAY, DECEMBER 8 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER - JORDAN When the storm hit, we retreated to the woods. It wasn't exactly shelter, but it was better than being out in the open. The trees deflected a lot of the rain, but we got drenched anyway. It lasted for maybe an hour, and then we pressed on toward the brightly-colored object we had spotted. If it was a building, it could be where Augie was. Or it could be where Stimulever was. Or it could be just another piece of art like the twelve-sided piece of teal granite we'd found, or that incredible sculpture of a penis. So we proceeded north in wet clothes until, at dusk, we finally saw what the brightly colored object was. - (Miles) Holy shit, it's another penis. - What is it with this island and penises? First the black one in the field and now one that's forty feet high. - And painted in a rainbow of colors. - It's not a pride symbol. Too many colors. What do you think it is? Just a giant piece of sculpture? Is this place some kind of haven for conceptual artists? - Mind what Sean told us. Stimulever is here somewhere. - Yes, and I remember Jen's joke. `Stimulever' is an anagram for `multiverse', but maybe it also has to do with stimulating your lever. An obsession with cocks? - It might be a building, not a sculpture. It looks like there's a door there at the base. - Should we approach it? What if it's Stimulever's headquarters? - Wait here. I'm going to take a closer look. - Miles, be careful. If you get caught, we're dead. We were at the edge of the woods, opening out into a clearing where the sculpture or tower or whatever- it-was was. I retreated into the woods, staying out of sight should someone emerge and hold Miles at gunpoint. I didn't see any windows, so I didn't think Miles was being observed; on the other hand, Sean had dug up some kind of motion sensor; maybe they could detect our presence. I saw now what Miles thought looked like a door. He went up to it, felt around it cautiously, circumnavigated the entire structure, then turned around and headed back to me. - It seems to be a door, but there's no way in. Nothing like a doorknob or keypad. - Maybe it only opens from the inside? - How would they get back in? There's no other point of entry. - Knock on the door and someone admits them. That would be good security, I suppose. - Which sounds like Stimulever, protecting themselves from outsiders like us. - I'm getting hungry. Let's go back to where we saw those breadfruit trees and eat. Then we can camp out overnight and come back in the morning and see if anyone emerges. - And if they don't? - I don't know. Sean says Augie and Vic are on this island. We didn't come all this way to give up. But I'm scared, Miles. I don't trust Sean. - I do. He'll be back, Jordan. He won't abandon us. * * * * * * * * SUNDAY, DECEMBER 9 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � JORDAN Our clothes were still wet in the morning. Oh, well. We emptied our bowels, filled our stomachs, and headed back to the giant multi-colored phallus. And were greeted by a shock: the door was open. We stayed under cover of the woods, peering out between the trees at the activity around the phallic building. There were two men outside. One was exercising, the other was heading off north of the structure. I didn't recognize either of them. And then a third body appeared � an older man, shirtless. - Miles! That's the British knight I saw in the airport with his son. - So you think � - I think we've found them! THE PHALLIC TOWER � AUGIE Another morning and I was still here. Everyone was still here. But today was not my danger day � that was Tuesday, two days from now. The recon mission Seth had organized yesterday had confirmed the location of the green medallion � the one I needed to avoid. I still like calling them `medallions' even though everyone else calls them something else. Jasper had gone to the latrine; Cody said he was going to exercise, then go search for his cattle, something Gary's Cody personality did often. Ed exited the tower a couple of minutes later. All of a sudden I heard him shout "Stop! Don't come any closer!" Dang, what was that about? A stranger? Had they come for me two days early? I looked to Seth; his posture grew stiff and he went immediately into command mode. - (Seth) Don't move, Augie. Harry, stay with him. Vic, Tim, come with me. - (Tim) On it. - (Harry) Don't worry, Augie. It's probably nothing. He wanted to reassure me, but his body language screamed, "I'm worried." Someone or something had taken four of us in the last week, and now a stranger had shown up in person. But then: - (a new voice) Vic! Omigod, Vic. You're all right! - (Vic) Miles, is that you? Is that really you? Who's that with you? - ("Miles") Someone looking for Augie. Harry held my hand. Looking for me was bad. But Vic had seemed happy to recognize the other person. - (Vic) I'll go get him. Seth? - (Seth) Yeah, I think it's okay. Bring Harry, too. Both of us a bit nervous, we got up and headed to the door. And I couldn't believe my eyes. - JEREMY???? What on earth was Jordan's brother doing here? STAN'S CELL � STAN - Ian? - Yeah? - Can you be twenty-two years old and gay and not realize it? - I've never tried it, so I can't really say. I've known I was gay since I was twelve. Is there any particular reason you are asking this question? Asking for a friend? - Don't be coy, Ian. I'm totally confused. - . . . Talk to me. - Magda's from my home town in Poland. We came to America to attend university, we got married two years ago, maybe that was too young; I don't think either of us was ready. We aren't that happy, she claims I'm not really attracted to her. We make love, but my heart is never in it. I'm not sure why, but I never for a moment thought it was because she was the wrong gender. - And now? - . . . Now I think she's the wrong gender. Or at least that I'm bisexual. - You like it when we make love. - I love it when we make love. I love the feeling of your cock inside me. And even when the lieutenants � when they have their way with me, I'm like, okay, let `er rip. I feel . . . liberated. I've discovered an aspect of myself I never knew existed. I'm pretty damn sure I like sex with men, Ian, and I'm pretty damn sure that when I get out of here, I want to be with you and not Magda. - . . . - What? - . . . Getting out of here. That might . . . not be so easy. - And it might be. At least it might be possible to get to the surface. - What are you talking about, Stan? - There's a way out. There's a group of us that are going to try to escape tomorrow. I was wondering if . . . hoping . . . you'd want to join. I mean � do you really like it here? Being Hamish's puppet? - Stan � - If you went with us, you and I could start over someplace, we could � - Who's behind this? Who is this group you're talking about? - This guy Leo, he came around and - - Leo? Leo's an idiot. Don't pay attention to him. - He's found a way out. - Oh yeah? What's that? - There's a secret exit and Percy has a code. We could kidnap him and force him to give us the code. He's got a bunch of us who � - Stan. Listen to me. Leo is a hothead having a hard time adjusting to getting fucked. His plan is doomed to fail. You just told me you wanted to be with me. I'm not going. Do you want to escape without me? - No, I want you to come with me. I'll be honest, Ian. I could go on like this for a while. For a WHILE. But I don't see any end to this `for a while'. I want off this island, I want to go back to Portland and live with you. - I don't live in Portland. - Then wherever you live, I'll live there. I'll switch jobs. I'm in love with you, Ian, but I'd like to do it back in America. - . . . I'm in love with you too, Stan. But . . . - But what? - . . . Nothing. - Ian, I can tell from your face that it's not nothing. What is it? - I . . . I don't . . . It's not something I can talk about. Listen, I � dammit, Stan, I'm . . . sorry, I just can't talk about this right now. And he left. What the hell was going on? THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH What the hell was going on? It wasn't enough that we magically appeared on this island, that clothes vanished, that dodecagons swallowed guys into the earth, that I received messages telling me to stay naked and that they `had' Abe, that � well, I could continue indefinitely. Now this. Two strangers suddenly appear in our midst � who were, in fact, not strangers, but knew Vic and Augie. What the fuck were they doing here? They had not even been on the plane. I had heard Vic talk often about his lover Miles � and this seemed to be that Miles. But I had never heard Augie describe anyone named Jeremy. And while Vic seemed unabashedly thrilled at the reunion, Augie seemed perplexed. Something was off. I drifted over to where the white newcomer was standing, while Augie nervously approached him. - (Augie) Jeremy, what are you doing here? Is Jordan okay? Does she know I'm alive? - (Jeremy) Jordan knows, Augie. Listen, we've got to talk. - Augie, you know this guy? - (Augie) Yeah. This is Jordan's brother Jeremy. They're not twins, but god, they could be. How did you get here? This is � - (Jeremy) Look, Augie, this is difficult to explain. Let's go somewhere where we can talk privately. - Absolutely not. Maybe this was Jordan's brother and maybe it wasn't, but there was no way I was going to let anybody go off alone with Augie, even if his birthday wasn't until Tuesday. - (Jeremy, to Augie) Who is this guy? And, jeez, get some clothes on, dude � what is this, some kind of nudist colony? - (Augie) That's Seth. He's kinda our leader. He can't wear clothes, it's � - (Jeremy) What do you mean, he can't wear clothes � he's allergic? Augie, let's take a walk and � - You're not going anywhere. I'd explain about my clothes but I have higher things on my priority list right now, like protecting Augie. You have no idea how much danger he's in. - (Jeremy, suddenly concerned) Danger? What kind of danger? - Augie, how well do you know this guy? - (Augie) He's � well, I actually only met him once. - (Jeremy) Listen, Seth, I really need to talk to Augie. It's important. And I can't do it in front of all these people. There was true pleading in his voice, something approaching desperation. I looked at him, and at Augie, and decided Jeremy was probably not a threat. But he was also unaware of our situation, and I wasn't about to let him go off alone with Augie. I spotted Harry and motioned him over. - Okay, here's the deal, Jeremy. Augie IS in danger, and needs to be accompanied by at least two people. I � - (Jeremy) Is he in danger from Stimulever? - Stim-what? . . . Never mind, here's what's going to happen. You can say what you need to say, away from the others, but Harry and I are going with you. This is Harry. - (Jeremy) Oh, yes, I remember you from the . . . - (Augie) What? When did you meet Harry? - (Jeremy) Oh, hell. Let's go into the woods. This is going to be a disaster but I need to get it over with. AN UNDERGROUND HALLWAY � IAN Well, that didn't go well. I couldn't force myself to tell Stan that Hamish planned to have him castrated and then killed. (A fate I might face myself if Hamish's threat was not an idle one.) Escaping to the surface was a fool's errand, and Leo was a fool. But there is a concept, sometimes attributed (falsely) to Lenin, called a `useful idiot'. Maybe Leo could serve as a useful idiot. He was not hard to track down. He saw me coming and sighed. My being a lieutenant, he saw me only as someone who wanted to fuck him, which he clearly wanted to avoid. - Leo! - (grudgingly) Please, not again today. Can you wait until tomorrow? - No worries. I'm not after your ass. - You're not? - Come to my room. - Do I have a choice? - Not really. Stan was in the room; I ordered him to make himself scarce. He looked at me as if I was rejecting him in favor of a newer model, but he complied. Alone with Leo, I set things in motion: - Leo, I've heard a rumor. - So? I imagine you hear lots of rumors in your job. - It's a rumor about escape. (Yes, well, that worried him.) - . . . You can't believe everything you hear. - What I hear is that you're going to abduct Percy and force him to give you a code so that you can slide up a pole to the surface. Does that sound like something I shouldn't believe? - (after a long pause) Who told you that? - A little bird. - Stan? - (time to lie) No, not Stan. - Al? Theo? Piers? Dai or Paul? Which of them was it? - Leo, you are even stupider than I thought. Do you realize you just named your co-conspirators to one of Hamish's lieutenants? - (rapidly trying to cover up, and failing miserably) Do you think I'm so stupid I'd name my actual co-conspirators? Those aren't the guys I talked to. - Actually, I DO think you're that stupid, and that those ARE your actual co-conspirators. But you needn't worry, Leo. I'm here to help. - Help? How? - You're taking a huge risk, trying to kidnap Percy. - That's why there's a bunch of us. We'll be able to � - You'll be able to immediately get every lieutenant in the place to respond to the fracas you've caused. Including me � and, to be honest, I want in on this. It's no fun being one of Hamish's thugs. I want out, and I have the means to get you out of here without kidnapping Percy. - Go on. - I've got the code. - How did you get the code? - I heard him recite it before I saw him use it. I was hiding nearby. - I don't believe you. - Come with me. I took him over to what I now knew was the Egress Room. . - Here it is. 1-3-8-5-7-0-9-1-2-3-5-4. I spoke as I pressed the buttons on the code. There was a click and the door unlocked. I pushed it open to reveal the pole Percy had used to reach the surface. - See, Leo? He just grabbed hold of that and pressed that little button on the wall and it zipped him right up to the surface. - Wow. I quickly shut the door before Leo could seize the opportunity to escape right then and there. - (Leo) What do you want in exchange for the code? - I want to go with you. And you have to keep Stan out of it. - Stan? Why Stan? - (time for another lie) He's important to Hamish. If Stan escapes, they'll go nuts and hunt you down. Here. I'll teach you the code. - I'm not good with numbers. Teach it to Dai. He's Asian, they're good at math. - (ignoring the racial stereotyping and moving on...) It's easy. There's a trick to it. There WAS a trick to it. The trick was that it was the code for odd-numbered days. Today was the 9th � it worked today. But Leo was going to try to escape tomorrow. THE PHALLIC TOWER � MILES - (Vic) But how did you get here? I mean, I can't believe we're together, it's too freakin' weird! - Helicopter. - That was you? We thought maybe we were being rescued and � why didn't you rescue us? - There's this guy Sean. He told us you were alive. And we were like, prove it. So he brought us here. But then he left us here. He said it was safer if he wasn't seen. But this place � it's really weird. I mean � you're living in a giant penis? - We call it the phallic tower. Miles, I can't describe to you how weird this place is. It has . . . magical powers, Miles. And it's dangerous. - I don't know about dangerous, but it is strange � and kinda sexy. We saw another phallus on our way here � a black one six feet tall. And a round disk several feet across that � - A decawhatzit. - Sorry? - It wasn't perfectly round. It had twelve sides, right? - Maybe. It did have sides, I didn't count them. It was sort of turquoise but more bluish. What's that color? Teal. - Shit. That's my color. - What do you mean, your color? - Whatever you do, don't let me go near it. And stay away from it yourself. - I thought it was wonderful, actually, It lifted my spirits, made me feel sexy, I wanted to hug Jordan for hours. - You mean Jeremy? You said `Jordan'. - No, Vic, I meant Jordan. That actually is Jordan. - . . . ? - Yeah. - . . . Augie's Jordan is a GUY? He's been lying to us this whole time about his girlfriend? - Not exactly. I think he's just finding out now. ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND - JES�S - We just heard from Sean. He left Murdock and King on the island, figuring that Hamish would dispose of them. He said he hadn't considered that their presence would throw off the physics, he apologized for that, admitted it was foolish. - (Ari) It certainly was. So, Hamish will terminate them? - Ari, that's your solution to everything. We need to consider carefully before we act. That's why I invited our consultant Dolph to join us at our Board meeting. I asked him and Thibaut to run simulations now that intruders have come to the island. Dolph? - (Dolph) This has, indeed, affected the parameters established at the outset for actualizing The Project. While eliminating the outside element directly may ultimately be necessary, none of the projections work well with an immediate termination. - (Fred) So leave them alone, to interact with those still on the surface? - (Thibaut) Yes � and no. - (Dolph) That is to say, yes, for now. But they should be sent to Hamish within a few days. - That won't create an imbalance? - (Dolph) It will, but, surprisingly, disposing of them beforehand is not the best route. Their arrival has totally changed the parameters. Strangely enough, it now seems we must sacrifice one of the Twelve. - One of the Twelve? The Twelve were all to be present at the launch. - (Dolph) `Were' being the operative word. - After all of our careful planning, this is rather disturbing. THE DORMITORY � PAUL - Dai, are you okay? You look exhausted. - I am exhausted. - They milked you again? - They did. Paul, it's scary. The four guys who make me blow them while I'm being milked � I knew them. It was years ago, but it's stuck with me. It was � you'll pardon the expression � a seminal event in my life. - Like I knew Anthony from before. - Can't be a coincidence. Hamish and Percy � they know so much about us. Look, I haven't told this to anyone but I've always had a prodigious output when I come. I think that's why they milk me instead of fucking me. And Anthony made you wear a jockstrap when he took your virginity. - And now I have a jockstrap I can't remove. - Exactly. How did they get all this information about us � and how is it that people we knew from the past are here now as lieutenants? - Cody would say it's a government plot. - Ha, Cody. I've been here two days and I've almost forgotten him and the others on the surface. - I haven't. Though I've been consumed with those down here. One guy in particular. - As have I. - I want so badly to have sex with you, Dai. And here I am, unable to get my cock out of my jock, and here you are, milked dry and then some. Neither of us can manage to do the other. - Well, Lucas is happy to do both of us. Especially you. - I seem to be his first choice. But thank you for saving me yesterday. I really was so sore I don't think I could have taken another cock up my ass. - But you could now? - If it was yours. I'd have taken yours then, just not Lucas's. - Because my cock is so much smaller than his? - No! Dai, no! Because it would be YOUR cock, and I want it so badly I'd take it no matter how sore I was. - I was just kidding. But I know what you mean. Right now my mouth is rather tired � but I think it would welcome being connected to yours. - You mean - ? - Come here and kiss me. - . . . - . . . - That was nice. Let's do it some more. - . . . - . . . - . . . - That was nice again. Prior to Dai's arrival in the room, I'd been really depressed. Anthony was brutal in his fucking � then he passed me on to others who ridiculed me as they used me. I felt so alone, so unloved, so miserable. And I was becoming Lucas's personal toy at night. The thought of Lucas entering the dormitory at that moment filled me with dread. But it was Dai instead, and my spirits soared. The feel of his bare skin against mine when we kissed � the tautness of his chest, his nipples rubbing against mine, the smoothness of his back as my arms coursed its length, the perfection of his buttocks � and that glorious face of his. I've always been attracted to Asian men, and Dai was among the handsomest I'd ever met. In that moment, while we were kissing, I was as happy as I had ever been in my life. ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND � JES�S (continued) - Which one needs to be sacrificed? - (Thibaut) It seems not to matter, which is curious. In fact, the simulations run best when the choice is made not by Hamish but by the Twelve themselves. - You expect them to nominate one of their own for execution? - (Thibaut) I'm just repeating what the models indicate. Allowing Hamish to choose is not ruled out � it can still work. But the probability of a successful launch is slightly lower. - (Dolph) One thing the simulations are clear on � the termination must take place soon. It cannot wait until after both Murdock and King are underground. - So . . . one of the four there now. Niemann, Heidekker, Eton, or Omi. - (Ari) Not Heidekker. Hamish raves about him, he's practically a lieutenant himself. - (Paolo) Maybe Heidekker should be the one making the choice. - I'll suggest that to Hamish. THE DORMITORY � PAUL - Dai, do you think we should do it? - I'd love to, Paul, but I don't have the juice. - Not that. Leo's plan. Do you think we should join him? - Hell, yeah. - It seems risky. - If we can get to the surface and connect with the others � maybe by banding together we could protect ourselves � and them. Keep them away from the dodecagons. - You knew to avoid the dodecagons. And they got you anyway. It might not be possible to save whoever's next on the birthday list. - Augie. But there's strength in numbers, Paul. If we can get up to the surface � - IF we can get up to the surface. I don't know about this crazy scheme of Leo's. Can we really overpower Percy without the lieutenants getting in the way? What if we get caught? - Paul, we're already caught. What are they going to do to us? Torture us? They already do. - Kill us. - If they wanted to kill us, we'd already be dead. This whole thing with the birthdays � they want to bring all of us down here, one by one. They want us alive. One thing I'm certain of, Paul. At least until we're all here � they won't kill any of us. Lucas might, just for fun � but THEY won't. - A good thing, then, that Lucas isn't the one making the decisions. NEAR THE PHALLIC TOWER � AUGIE I thought nothing else that happened on this island could shock me. And then this happens. Jordan is not Jordan. That is, she is � or rather, HE is. The Jordan I fell in love with is a dude. I am definitely going to hell. - Augie, can you ever forgive me? - The question is, will God ever forgive me. - Forgive you for what? For being gay? Augie, God loves everyone. - Pastor Markson says � - Pastor Markson is wrong. Gay people don't go to hell just because they're gay. Personally, I don't believe there is a hell. And even if there is � being who you are is not a sin. - What if I was a murderer? Then being who I was would be a sin. - Being a murderer is a choice. Being gay is not. I was born gay, and I think you were, too. I've known all my life, Augie, that I liked boys and not girls. I wished I was a girl so that I could be with a boy without people staring at me or condemning me like your pastor � - Or my parents. - Then one day, I met a boy I liked so much that I was willing to actually be a girl for him. He was a very special boy; he IS a very special boy. I should say `man' because you're not a boy anymore, Augie. You're a lovely, lovely man � and I love you. - When I was fifteen � something happened with another boy. His name was Alfonso. We got caught, but he covered up for me. He got expelled from the church; I didn't. Pastor Markson never knew, my father never knew. And it's been torturing me ever since, because I was attracted to Alfonso and I'd never met a girl I was really attracted to. And then I met you � and you sent me into ecstasy. The moment I got a hard-on being around you, I thought I'd been redeemed. I was in love with a girl � I got a hard-on from a girl! I couldn't be gay. I'm NOT gay. . . . Only now I AM gay. . . . I'm not sure I can accept this, Jordan. - Augie. Dear kind, sweet Augie. I came all this way here to be with you. Because I love you. You're not the only gay man on the planet. You probably weren't the only gay man on that plane. - (bitter laugh) That's funny. I'm not sure ANY of the others here are straight, except Ed � that's the older guy over there. But his son, Leo, is gay. Seth's gay. Harry's gay. Gary � Gary's sometimes gay, sometimes not, I'll tell you about him later. Jasper � dunno. Tim's straight, I think. But you can't be sure, can you? I mean Vic � man, I was sure Vic was straight. - From the way he's kissing Miles, I'm pretty sure he's not. - So is the helicopter coming to take you back? To take us all back? - I hope so. - When? - I don't know. It might be safer to stay here for a while. - Safer? Are you in trouble, too? - Kinda, yeah. . . It sounds like we both have stories to tell. What I have to tell you � well, you won't believe it. - Ha. I'm sure I can top that. You won't believe the things that have been happening here. - Maybe. Maybe I would. But, Augie, one thing I do believe: I believe you're a good person. I believe you're not going to hell. And I believe that if you just accept that you're gay, you can live a happy life. I'd like that life to be with me, but if it isn't, you can live the life that's right for you. Not for Pastor Markson. For you, Augie. You deserve that. - If I ever get off this island. - If we ever get out of this world. - Huh? - I'll explain later. . . . Kiss me? - . . . I don't think I'm ready for that. - You kissed me plenty of times before. - Yes, but that was when you . . . - . . . It's okay, Augie. Take your time. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE � REUNION BLUES]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-11	Date: Mon, 19 Feb 2024 16:23:42 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 11 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER ELEVEN: BIRTHDAYS Previously, at the Phallic Tower: * Leo, the son of the British knight Ed, having arrived during a thunderstorm, leaves his clothes under a rock overnight to let them dry, and borrows clothes from others to cover himself. * Paul awakens dressed only in a jockstrap, and confesses to Harry that he was unable to remove it and was forced to piss through it. * Harry and Seth discover that the dodecagon is now augmented by numbers near the outer edges. They seem to be the first eleven prime numbers, plus the number 1. Underground: * Barry, under Hamish's control, is put into a sling on the night of his arrival and fucked by seven of Hamish's `lieutenants'. In a flashback: * Seth attended Abe's birthday party a year ago, on Friday, December 1. * * * * * * * * SUNDAY, DECEMBER 2 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � HARRY After this startling revelation from Paul, I needed to talk to Seth. Not seeing him outside, I guessed he was still inside the Phallic Tower, and headed inside. He was talking to Dai, one of only two people who weren't out enjoying the sunshine. The other was Augie, sitting by himself. - Seth, can I talk to you? Something just happened. - About? I looked nervously over at Dai. True, last night I had encouraged Seth to be upfront with everyone about everything. And yet I wanted to talk to him privately. Dai noticed. - (Dai) Do you want me to leave? - (Seth) No. Harry, I trust Dai. You can share your information with him. - (Dai, grinning) Unless it's about me, of course. - It's not. It's about Paul. - (Dai) If it's about Paul, I want to know about it. Yesterday Paul had, under the influence of a dodecagon, stripped and tried to kiss Dai. This morning Dai had admired Paul's comely ass. Was there mutual attraction there? Before I could divulge the news about Paul, Leo rushed in, still dressed in the hand-me-downs that others had donated yesterday while his own clothing dried. - (Leo) My clothes. They're gone. - Didn't you put rocks on them so they wouldn't blow away? - (Leo) The rocks are still there. My clothes aren't. But I found this instead. He handed Seth a piece of paper. Seth whistled. I'm not sure I'd ever heard someone actually whistle in reaction to surprising news, but Seth did exactly that. - (Seth) Where did you find this? - (Leo) Under one of the rocks. Like someone had picked it up, stole my clothes, and put this there instead. - (Dai) Well, it wasn't any of us � we were locked in here all night. - (Leo) Sure about that? We got out this morning. Maybe somebody managed to get out last night. - Why would they do that? - (Leo) Because they're assholes. I don't know, maybe my father's been spreading lies about me, somebody thought they'd punish me. - (Seth) No, the door handle was missing until this morning. I can swear to that. - (Augie, apparently eavesdropping) It had to be someone from outside. Which means someone else is on this island. Someone who could rescue us. - Someone else IS on this island, Augie. But I'm getting the feeling they don't want to rescue us. Quite the opposite, in fact. Would a good Samaritan take Leo's clothes? - (Leo) No. It was one of you. - (Augie) Maybe somebody from outside needed clothes and thought the tower was unoccupied, so they just took them. - (Dai) Oh, to be that young and innocent. - So what's on the paper? You had quite a reaction, Seth. - (Seth) Take a look at this, Harry. He handed me the sheet of paper. I whistled. - (Leo) What? - It's the flight manifest. List of passengers. - (Leo) Oh. Big deal. - (Seth) I think it is a big deal, actually. - I'm with you on that one, Seth. - (Dai) Why? What made you guys whistle when you saw it? I showed him: MANIFEST � FLIGHT 12 � BARRY RUSSELL, PILOT Adena, Jasper New York, NY December 29, 1989 Eton, Paul Richmond, VA December 2, 1999 Fallon, Timothy St. Louis, MO December 23, 1997 Heidekker, L. Ernest Chicago, IL December 5, 1988 Mancini, Harry Philadelphia, PA December 17, 1995 Niemann, Edward Boston, MA December 13, 1974 Niemann, Leo Atlanta, GA December 3, 2004 Omi, Daisuke San Francisco, CA December 7, 1990 Onslow, Gary Kansas City, MO December 31, 1996 Stapleton, August Dallas, TX December 11, 2003 Torrance, Victor Minneapolis, MN December 19, 1997 [Author's Note: to correspond to the ages of the respective characters, this story must be set in December 2023, even though the days of the week are incorrect for the 2023 calendar.] - (Dai) Wow. We were all born in December. What kind of coincidence is that? - It's not a coincidence. It's design. Twelve of us, on Flight 12, all born in the 12th month. - (Seth) And we all have birthdays coming up. - Look, Paul's is today. - (Dai) And he got a jockstrap for a present? - Seth, could I talk to you outside for a moment? THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH I went out the door with Harry. He held the manifest in his hand. - Did you take a good look at this? - (Seth) Yeah, sure. All December, all birthdays coming up. - You didn't notice anything else unusual? - It's just our half of the plane. - Correction. It's ALMOST our half of the plane. - Are you referring to my notable omission? - I am. Is your birthday in December? - Well now, that's an interesting question. - It's a rather straight-forward question. Either you were born in December or you weren't. Unless you don't know when you were born, is that what you mean? - No, I know. My birth certificate says January 1, but the doctors say I was born exactly at midnight, so kinda halfway between December 31 and January 1. My mom and I were on TV news � local stations always run those `first baby of the new year' stories. They claimed I was the first baby in the entire country, though they couldn't prove it. - Okay, so just our half of the plane, you're not listed, all of us born in December, what else? - They list the pilot but no other crew members. - Good, what else? - Lucas is listed as L. Ernest. And he doesn't go by Ernest, like I don't go by Seth. Why use his middle name when he doesn't use it? - You'll pardon me for saying so, but what is the importance of being Ernest? And yet, that's not the most significant thing. Look at the dates. - The 17th, the 2nd, the 29th, the 7th. OMG. They're . . . - All prime numbers. - The same numbers that are on the tower floor. - Exactly. That's the reason there's no number 37 there � there are only 31 days in the month. Obviously, no one was born on the 37th. But. . . - But what? - The number 1. It's on the wheel. But if you weren't born in December, then nobody was born on December 1. I knew someone born on December 1. But he was sitting on the left side of the plane, across from me. THE THRONE ROOM � BARRY - So did you enjoy your birthday present? - I didn't tell you it was my birthday. - December 1, 1982. I know a lot about you, boy. I thought I arranged a rather nice birthday present for you. Which fucker did you enjoy the most? - . . . - Boy, answer me. - . . . None of them. - Oh, dear. I do so want to please you. I guess I'll just have to try others until we find one you like. - No! - Excuse me? Did you say `no' to your master? - No. I mean `yes, I said `no'. If you want to please me, don't let anyone fuck me. - You're telling me what to do. - No, no, I'm � well, if it's my birthday present, I should have gotten what I want. And that's not to get fucked. - Dear me. It looks like you need a lesson in respect. Perhaps I should send you over to Mac for some humility training. Do you like having teeth? - No! I mean, please, sir, please don't do that. - Oh, he won't knock them all out, Barry. Not unless you truly deserve it, which you don't, at least not yet. He'll just bring you in touch with your feelings. A couple of hours with Mac and I think you'll be plenty humble. - I'll be humble. I promise, I'll be humble. - I'll be humble, what? - I'll be humble, sir. - Try again. - I'll be humble, Master. - That's the one. - I'll be humble, I'll be obedient, I'll be cooperative, I'll be respectful, I'll � - Oh, do shut up, Barry. Your words are very nice, but right now that's not what I want from your mouth. Now open up. - Yes, Master. - Open wide. We magicians have very large cocks. - Gmmmk! - Yes, it is big, isn't it. But don't worry, I know you're not experienced at this, you're allowed to gag. - Gmmmk! - Just don't bite. If you bite, well, I might have to send you to Mac. He could make sure you don't bite next time. - Nmm! Mm wmmm bmmm! - Of course you won't. But if you do, and we have to have Mac work on you, it's not the end of the world. You can still chew food without your front teeth. FLASHBACK: BARRY (SANTO DOMINGO) � May, this year - So do you do fire play? - Never learned it. - Want me to teach you? - Yeah, sure. It will add to my repertoire, increase my client base. I took both men and women as clients. More women than I would have wanted, but my services didn't include sex unless they paid extra. I was technically bisexual, though I much preferred playing with balls over playing with twats. But, since I'm not exclusively gay, I wound up getting married and having a kid. Biggest mistake of my life, except for the kid. Paloma began as a client, and she paid extra, so you know what that meant. I got spontaneous, which meant � stupid me � no condom. So naturally she got pregnant. Her Catholic family demanded that she not only carry the baby to term � with which I had no quarrel � but that the child not be born out of wedlock � with which I did. And demanded that I relocate from Miami to her home in the Dominican Republic. I kinda liked the idea of having a kid, and Paloma said I would never see it unless I married her. I finally consented, under two conditions: (1) we never again had sex, and (2) I was free to carry on with my clientele in the basement � recognizing that most of my clients were men and that I liked fucking them. She was horrified. Somehow it had never occurred to her that any of my subs were male, much less the vast majority. But she also couldn't afford not to be married if she wanted to stay connected to her family, and so Rafa was born five months into our marriage. A little boy. The light of my life, a reason to come upstairs and focus on something other than Paloma. Who had turned out to be a first-class bitch. After the inevitable divorce � she waited a full year for the sake of optics � I realized I could no longer afford to go back to Miami, so I set up business in Santo Domingo. My income wasn't as robust as it had been in Miami, but the cost of living was lower. Nevertheless, more income was preferable to less income, and I was anxious to learn new tricks that would appeal to sexy young Dominican lads. Fire play was just the ticket. I'd met this guy in a bar, and we hit it off. At first, I thought he was hitting on me, but he spotted me as a fellow dom and we just struck up a friendship. I thought, maybe I can learn from this guy, maybe we could play together sometimes. Before I could utter that thought, he suggested it himself: - Have a client Friday night? - Yeah. - Boy or girl? - Boy. - Good. Bring him to my place. I'll have a boy, we can have fun with them together and I'll show you how to do fire play. - Do you fuck your clients afterwards? - Only if they ask me not to. He grinned at that in a way that made me unsure of whether or not he was kidding. There was something slightly sinister about Hamish DiSalvo that made me uncomfortable. But I guess some doms were genuine sadists � they were the dangerous ones, the ones you should arrange a safe call for. But they also made a lot of money, and if he could show me ways of increasing revenue I was all for it. My client's name was Mart�n and he was nineteen years old, medium brown skin with black braided hair. Into bdsm since he was sixteen, he'd been arrested twice for paying for sex � and being underage, to boot. He'd been arrested for other things, too � robbery, selling drugs � and had spent time behind bars. Behind bars, he was very popular, if you know what I mean, and he loved every minute of it. He tried to get the guards to beat him up, provoking them but they were wise to his act and refused to take the bait. I'd happily beat him up, but he'd have to pay for it. I took him to Hamish's place. Hamish had a Dominican named Felix. Lovely boy with a lovely ass. Coal-black skin, muscular, buzz cut and no hair on his body anywhere else. Absolutely my type. I wanted to plunder his butt the moment I saw it. My cock was pressing against my leather codpiece when I realized I wanted to trade partners with Hamish. We played jointly. We tied the two boys together, mouths touching, cocks touching, feet touching, and hung them from the ceiling while we blistered their asses with canes. I love the swish of a good cane, it so terrifies them when they hear it NOT hitting their ass. And then when it does � if you do it right � you get this sharp intake of breath like a reverse hiss that is oh so pleasing to the ear. Later on, you get the panting, which, in this case was amusing, because they had to pant into each other's mouths. We plugged their asses and then swung a leg backwards, pulling the foot up close to their head like a figure skater doing a Biellmann spin. They didn't like that. So we gagged them to shut up their complaints, especially Mart�n's. While they were in this vulnerable position, we put clothespins on their balls and then flicked them off with whips. It was a fun time. Finally, we lowered them from the ceiling and put them face down on the table. It was time for the fire play demonstration. Hamish liked to do it with the boy tied down, though you had to be careful not to get the flame too close to the rope or it might catch fire. He secured both boys with ropes around their necks, wrists and ankles, then turned his attention to Felix. He rubbed a liquid over Felix's back and passed a flame over the boy, immediately smoothing it with his free hand. Felix wriggled with joy. Hamish let me feel the sensation on my arm � first painting a swath of alcohol, then passing the flame over it and immediately smoothing it. I felt warmth and a slight momentary tingle that was actually very pleasing. It wasn't sadism at all � it was actually quite nice. It gave me a thought. - This would be a good way to transition into aftercare. - Aftercare. You do aftercare? - Of course. It's essential. Don't you? - Hell no, Barry. I just fuck them. - Are you going to fuck Felix? - No. Felix won't be fucked. And he won't need aftercare. That remark remained mysterious as he told me to sit in a chair in the far corner of the room. - Now for this next effect I don't want you too close. That statement was somewhat worrisome, but I did what he asked. I watched him pour a generous amount of fluid over Felix's body as the young man moaned with pleasure. - (Felix) Eso se siente bien. - (Hamish) Seguro. Pero no por mucho tiempo. He stood back and tossed a match onto Felix's ass. Flames immediately leaped into the air and quickly spread across his entire body. Felix started to scream. I leaped up. - Hamish, what are you doing? - Relax, Barry, he'll be fine. - Fine? You're burning him. - Not quite enough. And he poured more alcohol onto the hapless youth's body. - Hamish, you're going to kill him! - Yes, I know. I listened to Felix's screams and cries for help until I could stand it no longer. I looked around for something to throw on top of him � water, or sand � or some large cloth I could use to beat the flames down. Nothing. - Don't bother, Barry. There's nothing you can do to put the flames out. I want it to stop too, I know it's annoying to listen to. - Annoying? You're burning this boy to death. - That is exactly what I've been paid to do. - He wanted to commit suicide? - Oh, no. HE's not paying me. There are certain criminal enterprises in this city, and certain street gangs who have cause to want one of their competitors removed from the scene. They're who's paying me � well he is, too, posthumously, whatever's in his wallet � but it's what I do to improve life in this city. Remove some of its scum. And have fun at the same time. - You call burning a young man to death fun? - Yes, aren't you hard? - No! - A shame. I could listen to him scream all day. But for your sake, I'll put an end to this. Hamish picked up a revolver and shot Felix in the back of the head. - (Hamish) And now, Mart�n. - What? Oh, no, Hamish, this is my boy, he's not your client, nobody paid you to get rid of him. - That's a valid point. You want to fuck him? - I do, but � Mart�n, do you want me to fuck you? Mart�n shook his head violently. He couldn't speak � Hamish, knowing what he was about to do to Felix, had gagged Mart�n in advance, so he wouldn't be protesting as the body next to him was burning. - (Hamish) Oh, very well. Let's just give him a good oil massage and then we'll let him go, eh? - Thank you. - (Hamish) You want to do the honors? I approached the quivering body and freed him from the gag. - Relax, Mart�n. Hamish � he was paid to do that to Felix. Nobody paid to do that to you. - I'm a witness! - So am I. I'm not going to say anything. And you're not going to say anything, are you, Mart�n? - (Hamish) Sir Barry has your credit card. We can find your address. - (Mart�n) No, no of course I won't say anything. I mean � I know the gang he's part of. I know what they are. They're terrible people. I'm not sorry he's dead. Only - that was pretty brutal. - (Hamish) Life is brutal, Mart�n. All while this was going on, I was pressing my hands into Mart�n's meaty flesh, spending a lot of time kneading the two gorgeous orbs that constituted his ass. - You've got a pretty body, Mart�n. - (Hamish) Here, make him smell nice. Rub this into his skin. He handed me some fragrant oil, which I then rubbed into every crack and crevice of the sexy young man's skin, lingering as I probed his asshole, which made him gasp. This was aftercare as it should be done. But I admit that I longed to follow it up by fucking the daylights out of him. - (Hamish) Come here for a minute. I want to show you something. Hamish was about twenty feet away, near a metal box that was standing open. I presumed that what he wanted to show me was inside, perhaps a collection of dildos I could insert into Mart�n's shapely rump. But when I reached him, I heard screams. I turned around. Mart�n was in flames. I started toward him but Hamish grabbed me and held me back. - He's scum, too, Barry, good riddance. Besides, I wanted to give him a nice birthday present. You should always die on your birthday, don't you think? - How did you know it was his birthday? - You didn't look through his wallet? - But how did � you were over here � there was no match � he just burst into � - I'm a magician, Barry. Don't forget that. I'm a magician. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER TWELVE � APPAULING DEVELOPMENTS]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-38	Date: Sat, 18 May 2024 14:58:42 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 38 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: THE THING WITH FEATHERS Previously, at the Phallic Tower: * Sean has Stimulever activate a penis garden, then lures Augie onto it, sending him back to Hamish. * `The physics' require the (Beta-) deaths of all left-siders. Vic strangles Al, and Sean pushes Theo off a cliff, but Ian is hiding Stan, and lies to Sean about it. Sean catches Ian in the lie, but decides to play along, hoping that Stan's survival will be enough to disrupt `the physics' and cause The Project's failure. * As a result of the attrition conveyed in the above two bullets, only Seth, Jasper, Tim, and the inhabitants of Gary's body still reside at the Phallic Tower (along with Ian and Sean). * We don't know much about Tim, do we. Underground: * Paul and Dai, captured early, have developed a relationship. * Harry bares his soul to Jordan after learning that even underground he is not to lose his virginity. * Jordan discovers he likes being Barry's sub. * * * * * * * * THURSDAY, DECEMBER 20 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH Jasper and I had seen a figure wildly waving his arms and legs from atop what we knew to be a giant dildo spearing his ass. It was too far away to identify the flailing figure, but only two people were unaccounted for: Augie and Theo. Jasper had seen Sean leave with Augie. And here was Sean, returning alone. As Ricky Ricardo would say, Sean `had some splaining to do'. - You said the penis gardens were turned off. - (Sean) They were. - But they're on now. - Temporarily. I'll make a phone call and get them switched off. I can't risk you getting captured. - A phone call. . . . You can contact them. - I can contact them. - And yesterday, when Stan disappeared, the penis gardens were switched on? - It was necessary. - And Theo? I don't see him around. - It was necessary. God, why was I still turned on by this man? He was a goddamned liar. - That wasn't Theo, though, was it? That was Augie. - . . . You saw that. - I saw that. He looked at me. I could see the wheels turning in his head. He took a deep breath, then returned my gaze with one that was either sincere or a first-class imitation. I wish I knew which. - Yeah, that was Augie. . . . I had to do it, Seth. You don't understand the pressure I'm under. It's like the time five years ago, with � you know. - Are you going to try to justify kidnapping my boys again? And driving my wife to suicide? - No. I can't justify that. No one could justify that. Explaining is not the same as justifying. I'm just telling you, the pressure on me right now is unbearable. I have to make choices, Seth. I have to give them enough to satisfy them. - Even if it means lying to me. - . . . I'd prefer to think of it as protecting you from the truth. - I'm not Tom Cruise and you're no Jack Nicholson. I can handle the truth. He paused again, looked down at the ground, then looked up and sighed. - Okay. You're right, Seth. I owe you the truth. Stan, Theo, Augie � they're all underground. I got Ian to lead Stan there; Theo and Augie I did myself. They had to go back, Seth. If they stayed up here, I'd have to kill them. - Like you killed Al. - Vic killed Al. But yes. There are things about The Project that you don't understand. - (I'd say just about all of it.) I'm all ears. - The thing is . . . I love you, Seth. I always have. I love you so much that I'm willing to give you up. I know you'll only be happy with Abe, and so I have to do what I can to make you happy. And that means making this Project succeed. Because if this Project doesn't succeed . . . I don't want to tell you what that means. For Abe. - He'll wind up with you. - No, actually he stays with you. But . . . - Go on. - He'll be dead by the end of the year. That stopped me in my tracks. - . . . How? - You don't want to know. . . . Seth, I love you, but I'm smart enough to read the tea leaves and know you don't love me back. If I can't have you, at least I can make you happy, give you your Abe. If The Project succeeds, you'll be happy with Abe and I'll smell like a rose to Stimulever. It's not win/win, but it's as close as I can come. So, I must do what I can to make sure the Project succeeds, even if it means unethical things like tricking Augie into a penis garden. - So everyone I rescued is back underground. - Other than Ian and Al, yes. - Is there ANYTHING ethical about what you've done? - Whoever said ethics were straightforward? THE PHALLIC TOWER � SEAN Whoever said that, indeed? I told a multitude of lies just then. But when I said I wanted him to be happy, I was speaking from my heart. I do want him to be happy � with me. And, for reasons of my own, I need The Project to fail. I've told everyone that if The Project fails, they're in for a year of misery. And so I have to perpetuate that lie to Seth. I have to tell him I want the Project to succeed, when I am working to accomplish the very opposite. I have to tell him Theo is underground when, in fact, he's dead. And then there's Stan. I have to tell Seth he's underground. I have to tell Hamish he's dead. When he's actually being hidden somewhere by Ian. Imagine, lying twice about a man I don't even know or care about, who's married to a woman! I have mixed feelings about all this � genuine mixed feelings. Ethics AREN'T straightforward. I just lied about the facts, that's all. Facts don't matter. Emotions do. One thing I told him IS true � if the Project fails, Abe WILL be dead within a year. I'm not a cold-blooded murderer, but I'll make an exception in the name of love. It will look like an accident � I'll make sure of that. Sean O'Hara will morph into Consoler-in-Chief. Seth will turn to me for comfort. Eventually he'll realize that I'm where he belongs � and that his true calling in life is to be my naked slave. UNDERGROUND � AUGIE I was expecting my punishment for escaping to include a shower stall filled with shit. But, to my surprise, they didn't seem intent on harsh retribution: I could sleep in the dormitory with the other guys, who were happy-sad to see me � other than Ed, who merely looked annoyed. I learned that every day he loses several teeth � which at least are restored the next morning. I'm sorry for Ed, but we're all subjected to some form of abuse. I have my painful enemas. Paul can't remove his jockstrap; when he urinates, it dribbles out onto the floor � which he has to clean with his tongue. Dai is milked past the point of exhaustion. Vic is forced to carry heavy objects while blocks of concrete are suspended from his balls; I'm amazed they haven't been torn off. All of us are beaten and all of us are fucked � or so I presume. Whenever the subject turns to sex, Harry goes silent. I guess he's even more embarrassed about it than I am. I'd dreaded seeing Jordan again. Last night, I happened to pass by his cell. Barry, Hamish's dog-slave, was lashing Jordan's butt with a bouquet of twigs � I think you call it a birch? In any case, he was drawing blood, and I wanted to intervene, but then I heard Jordan call out, "More! More! Harder!" "I'll do you harder, bitch," was Barry's reply as he threw his switch aside and started to manipulate his cock. "Right up your ass." Jordan seemed to find this prospect not at all disagreeable; I was so disgusted I hurried back to the dormitory. * * * * * * * * FRIDAY, DECEMBER 21 * * * * * * * * THE DORMITORY � PAUL Augie's return reminded me of the movies in the Final Destination series, in which a group of teenagers (why was it always teenagers?) survive an event which should have killed them, so death tracks them down one by one, in a series of grim `accidents'. Message: you can't escape death. Augie had escaped, only to be recaptured. Message: you can't escape Hamish. Of those I'd met at the Phallic Tower, only those whose birthdays had yet to come were still on the surface. I didn't know who was next, but the birthdays were all prime numbers � which meant the next arrival would be on the 23rd. Sunday. Today was Friday. This filled me with despair. There was no escape. But Dai had a different perspective on it. - Look, Paul, this could all be good. - Explain how being raped and beaten every day is good. - Our capture is necessary to bring about this Project thing Harry and Vic told us about. Supposedly, if it works, we'll be spared from a year of misery. At least that's what this guy Sean told Augie. - The key word in what you just said is `supposedly'. Who is this guy Sean, anyway? Is he the head honcho? Is he Hamish's boss? How can we trust what he says? We've never even met him. - He has to know what's what, Paul. I don't know if he's in charge of Stimulever or just a cog in the machine, but he's powerful enough to have brought Miles and Jordan to the island. - Speaking of which � why DID he bring them here? They weren't even on Flight 12. - Paul, Paul, eyes on the prize. The Project is supposed to launch at the end of the month. We just have to put up with this nonsense until then. - And then what, Dai? We go back to Alphaworld? I'm in Virginia, you're in California. Do we get together? Do we even know each other exists over there? - I've been thinking about this. I don't know if this is possible, but we could ask. - Ask what? - I'm relying on their ability to conjure up whatever they need when they need it. Like food, for example. - What do you want them to conjure up? - Tattoo equipment. - . . . ?? - The Mayer brothers are tattoo artists. They wrote some kana on my chest when I was at Stanford. - Yes, you never told me what it said. - It said `champion cocksucker'. As soon as I realized that, I had it removed. Anyway, what if we asked them to tattoo each other's names onto our arms. If we found ourselves back in Alphaworld we could read them and know about each other. - If I saw the name `Dai' on my skin, would I know what it meant? - What if it said "find Daisuke Omi, San Francisco". You'd do it, wouldn't you? Just to find out why it was there? - This reminds me of that movie Memento. That didn't have a happy ending. Anyway, even if they had the equipment, they'd never let us do that. - What do we have to lose, asking? You have to have hope. - Dai, the only thing that gives me hope is your presence with me now. I have you for ten more days. After that . . . I'm scared. I don't want to lose you. - We just have to hope we can stay together after that. - Hope. - Emily Dickinson called hope `the thing with feathers'. It can fly, Paul. Maybe we can fly, too. - Dai, you say the sweetest things. You � and Emily Dickinson � give me hope. The thing with feathers. And I hope . . . - . . . - I hope . . . - . . . Yes? - . . . God, I'm tearing up. - It's okay. Go ahead. - I hope you know that I love you, Dai. Because I do. - I love you too, Paul. - So then kiss me, you fool. That occupied us for the next forty-five seconds. - . . . Dai? - Yeah? - If we do fly . . . - Yes? - Let's make sure it's not on Zen Tropical Airways. - Roger that. THE PHALLIC TOWER � IAN So far, things had gone according to plan � Sean's plan. Harry and Vic had surrendered to dodecagons, Augie had been recaptured, Al and Theo were dead. And Sean had miraculously agreed to allow me to keep Stan alive, and even lied to Hamish about it. The bulk of my obligations were done for a while � the only big one left in the next week was to send Tim down. That was to occur on Sunday. Since the dodecagons (which I had yet to see) could reportedly move, I was relatively confident that Tim would find one � if he ventured away from the tower. Why anyone would venture away from the tower on his birthday was beyond me. Yet, one after the other, they had. They'd known early on about the danger the dodecagons presented, and still had succumbed. Harry and Vic had even gone willingly, despondent over their respective failures of leadership and morality. What would motivate Tim to leave the nest? I wondered what made him tick. He was an artist, I'd learned. He'd done two tours of duty in Afghanistan, then had come home to St. Louis to become a sculptor specializing in birds. Recently, he'd been commissioned by the Audubon Society to do a series of sculptures of a variety of woodpeckers � he was that good. Even so, he was barely scraping by financially, three-dimensional art not being a high priority in the Midwest in the post-COVID era. I knew Tim was gay, but he never mentioned any past relationships. I wondered about that. FLASHBACK: TIM (AFGHANISTAN) � eight years ago His name was Shahbaz. He lived in a small village in the north. We had driven the Taliban out of the town, which we now occupied. I guess we thought of ourselves as liberators, but we were the foreigners, weren't we. The Taliban were at least their own countrymen. Those who wanted to protect the freedoms of women and girls welcomed us, but there were plenty of fundamentalist men who didn't see Taliban rule as such a horrible thing. So there was tension in the village. In an effort to reduce that, the captain had assigned us each a family to `adopt', to get to know personally in hopes of warming our way into their hearts. I was fortunate: `my' family was actually grateful for the arrival of the Americans, having suffered grievously under the Taliban. Shahbaz was eighteen. He lived with his mother and two younger brothers in a shack that passed for middle-class here. His older brother had been hanged for having publicly expressed heretical ideas. His father was in hiding � in Uzbekistan, it was hoped. His mother had hidden her education from the Taliban - she knew English and had taught it to her sons. His father had taught Shahbaz the art of falconry, a tradition in his family for generations. His name, Shahbaz proudly informed me, meant `Royal Falcon'. I was immediately charmed by the eight hunting falcons the family owned, Shahbaz's pride and joy. Falcons were expensive on the open market, but his family had raised them for generations � generations of birds. He had two prize Saker falcons, a breed valuable enough to be smuggled out of the country and sold in the Emirates or Saudi. In addition, he had three Northern goshawks, a pair of merlins, and a single Peregrine he was hoping to find a mate for. As he displayed them, his face beamed with light. I was supposed to be focused on the majestic bird perched on his arm guard, but all I could see was his handsome face. I noticed him gazing back at my not-quite-handsome face. The expression on his face didn't change. It was then that I knew. When I asked him about the village girls � at eighteen he was prime marriage material � his face clouded over, a source of embarrassment. Ah. The village girls don't interest you, do they. He looked at me and instantly knew that I understood � and we instantly knew we had something in common. The love that dare not say its name, they once called it. It wasn't love, it was just attraction, but it still dared not say its name. `Don't ask, don't tell' had been reversed, but it was still not acceptable in my unit to be openly gay. The prospects for Shahbaz were non-existent. What the Taliban would do to a homosexual was not something I wanted to contemplate. He let me don one of his arm guards and a merlin hopped onto it and perched, to my astonishment. Shahbaz was delighted, saying that she didn't normally respond to strangers. Afterwards, as he removed the guard from my arm, our arms touched, and then our torsos. A chill went up my spine � the good kind of chill. We turned and looked at each other. He put his hand on my hip. I put my hand on his ass. He stiffened, possibly in more than one way, looked around quickly, and ushered me into a barn where the family kept some goats and a pair of cows. - If we catched . . . He didn't need to complete the sentence. Even with the Taliban gone, there was religious fervor in the village. It would be more than disgrace and dishonor � it could mean flogging, banishment, prison � or worse, depending on the severity of the `offense'. We kept well out of sight of anyone entering the barn. I ran my hand over his face, a charge running through my body as I felt his stubbly chin. He sighed with pleasure, and before I knew it he had wrapped his arms around my chest and pressed his lips against mine. We did not have sex. The risk was too great. For both of us, but especially for Shahbaz. That being said, we did strip off our shirts. The feel of his skin was just too stimulating to avoid. I nibbled his nipples, he licked my armpits. We inhaled each other's manly aromas, and did everything we could, short of dropping our pants and inserting our privates into each other. - Well, well, well, what have we here? I froze. I knew that voice: my sergeant. I could be drummed out of the service. It didn't matter that "don't ask, don't tell" had been reversed, he could invent a charge and make it stick. Two months ago, he became convinced that a Pfc named Rob Littleton had stolen money from him. Unable to substantiate his suspicions, he fabricated a story about Rob assaulting him; Rob was soon stateside and given a dishonorable discharge. He could do the same to me. - Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend, Fallon? If I was nervous, Shahbaz was apoplectic. His very life was at stake if news of this got to the wrong people. I knew that Sergeant Penn Ayers could see the fear in both our faces. - I � uh � Sarge, this is Shahbaz. - (Penn) You're half-dressed, Shahbaz. Let's correct that. - (Shahbaz) I sorry, sir. Shahbaz managed to mumble that, as he looked around for his shirt. But Penn stopped him. - (Penn) No, boy. That's not what I meant. You're half-dressed. Let's see you un-dressed. Shahbaz's eyes widened to the size of quarters. - (Shahbaz) Un . . . dress? - (Penn) Get out of those jeans, boy. Fallon can't keep his little love nest all to himself. Get the rest of your damn clothes off or I'm going to shoot one of your birds and roast it for dinner. If there was anything more humiliating than being naked in front of a lusty American stranger, it was losing one of his falcons and having to explain it to his family. Shahbaz fumbled at his zipper and, shivering, slipped his jeans down to his ankles and stepped out of them. - (Penn) Very nice. Keep going, boy. I can't fuck you through your panties. - (Shahbaz) Sir, please, I � - (Penn) Don't play innocent, Shahbaz. You were going to do it with Fallon, weren't you? - Sarge, we weren't. We were just . . . you know, touching, that's all we were going to do. - (Penn) Well, Fallon, you're a man, aren't you? Men do more than just touch a boy's tits and sniff his pits. They fuck. And this boy wants to get fucked, don't you, Shahbaz. - (Shahbaz) No, sir, if I � they kill me if � I never � - (Penn) Your ass or your birds. You decide. You give me your ass or I shoot every single one of your precious falcons. And maybe your little brother as well. Now bend over that railing, Sarge is taking you for a ride. After Sergeant Penn Ayers deprived poor Shahbaz of his virginity, he ordered me to follow. I couldn't imagine what Shahbaz was thinking � whether it was a horrifying, painful humiliation or a dream fulfilled � but my brain was as racked with guilt as my cock was thrilled with his velvety insides. I fucked him well; the carnal pleasures were unbelievably rewarding. And I hated myself for enjoying it so much. - Now, get this straight, Fallon. You and I are going to come back here as often as we want � as often as I want � to share this boy's lovely ass. As long as he keeps his mouth shut, we'll just keep this among ourselves. Oh, one other thing. You're going to be my special friend. I've been looking for a faggot to service me and you're it. You'll report to my quarters every evening and we'll find out how good a cocksucker you are. I'll bet you're an expert. I wasn't sure that was an accurate description, but I was not a complete novice in the art. - And if I choose, I'll do you up the ass like we did this boy. And you'll surrender willingly � if you want Shahbaz here to live. Understood? - Yes, sir. I understand, sir. - Twenty-two hundred hours, Fallon. Tonight. THE WOODS � IAN Tim and I had taken the opportunity to bathe while filling the water bottles for the diminishing group. Of course, walking back to the tower afterwards only dirtied your feet again. So it goes. On the way back, I noticed something float down and land on Tim's head. While many of the trees were deciduous, and there were leaves on the ground, I'd never seen one actually falling and landing anywhere. I was about to point out that he had a leaf in his hair when I looked more closely. Leaves weren't gray. It was a feather. - Tim, you have a feather in your hair. - (smiling) Yeah, right. That's like a fifth-grade trick. And not a very good one. - No, I'm serious. There's a feather in your hair. - Ian, there are no birds on this island. So how could there be a feather in my hair? - I don't know, but there is. I reached over to pluck it out of his hair, but when I grasped it and pulled, it slipped out of my fingers every time. - Ow! Stop pulling on my hair. - I'm not pulling on your hair. I'm pulling on the feather. - You have a weird sense of humor, Ian. I left it there until we returned to the tower. Gary � or rather, Ray � walked over to us. - (Ray) Interesting hairdo, Tim-o. I know you have the hots for birds, but where'd you get the feather? Tim stared at him, then turned to me. - Did you tell him to say that? - Tim, I've been telling you, there's a feather in your hair. Seth, overhearing, turned to the one person who might be able to explain. - Sean, get your ass over here and tell us where this feather came from. Sean seemed as surprised as the rest of us. - Probably a minor glitch in the programming somewhere. He didn't seem all that concerned. JORDAN'S CELL � JORDAN After meals, sex and discipline were done for the day, we could relax in our cells; we were even free to roam the facilities as long as we were back in our cells by Lights Out, around ten. Last night, Miles had unloaded to me, ambivalent about Vic; their reunion the previous day had unsettled him. He revealed that his relationship with Vic had been at the instigation of his true love � Sean. SEAN?! This blew my mind. Miles and Sean?? When we were together in Aruba, neither of them had given the slightest intimation of a private relationship. (I thought Sean had the hots for ME.) Miles confessed the whole thing, even that he had fed his friend Nick key information that enabled him to hack Stimulever's website. I couldn't discern his motivations, but Sean, charming as he was, was definitely an operator. Miles agreed and said it had made him realize that maybe his feelings for Vic were genuine. Miles didn't come over tonight. I hoped he was with Vic, exploring those feelings. Instead, I was with Harry, whose presence always buoyed me, though I think it was Harry whose spirits most needed buoying. He was so down on himself, disturbed that his particular torture was to remain a virgin, while everyone else was having regular sex. Granted, it was brutal, involuntary sex, but it was still something Harry fantasized about. As usual, he was bruised from the small of his back to the back of his knees, the lieutenants having thrashed his oversized buttocks and thighs into something resembling hamburger. I was trying to comfort him, our heads on each other's shoulders as we embraced, when Augie burst in. - So now you're making out with Harry? Screwing the pooch not good enough for you? I broke the embrace. - What are you talking about, Augie? I knew Augie was back � news spread quickly that one of the escapees had been recaptured. - (Augie) I'm talking about how I never realized what a slut you were. - (Harry) Augie! - (Augie) Stay out of this, Harry. This is between Jordan and me. Jordan, who masqueraded as a girl. Jordan, who pretended to be a virgin saving herself for our wedding day. Jordan, oh-so-pure Jordan, who begs Hamish's pet dog to hit her harder and fuck her ass. - I use masculine pronouns, Augie. - (Augie) You know what you use, Jordan? People. You use people. You used me and now you're using Fido and for all I know you're using Harry. - (Harry) That's enough, Augie! But it wasn't. - (Augie) I told Seth that maybe God's plan for you was to make me realize that I'm gay. Well, good job, mission accomplished! Now maybe part of His plan is to make me realize that I've been a sap. Maybe it's time I stood up for myself. Maybe it's time I told certain people just what miserable excuses for human beings they truly are. I didn't expect what came next. Harry got up and pushed his hands hard against Augie's chest. - Get out, Augie. Augie shoved back. - The heck I will. For a moment, I was afraid it would devolve into one of the world's most improbable fistfights, but Harry paused, stepped back, and decided to de-escalate the situation. - (Harry) Look, Augie, you've been hurt, I get that. So has Jordan. So have we all, in our own ways. You don't think I'm hurting? I'm hurting, Augie. Ask Jordan if you don't believe me. But this isn't about me. This is about humanity. This is about respecting another human being. I don't know whether God has a plan for you or even if God exists, but I do know that we shouldn't be judging people without trying to understand them. Being down here has helped Jordan understand some things about himself � maybe they're things you don't approve of, but they're not mean-spirited things. If he enjoys getting flogged, and getting drilled by Hamish's dog-slave � well, I'll confess, Barry's got a nice big cock, I wouldn't mind tasting it myself. Does that make me a slut? Does that make me a bad person? No, Augie. It makes me human. Like Jordan is human. Like you are human. Jordan wasn't trying to hurt you � now or before. All the lying � was to avoid hurting you. In retrospect, it wasn't the wisest thing to do, and Jordan knows that, but his heart was in the right place. He's a good person, Augie. You're a good person. You can both make peace with this. Augie stood there, shaken. And chastised. - (Augie) . . . You're right. I'm sorry. I'm � I'm still struggling with this, and I'm looking for someone to blame. And I guess that's you, Jordan. And I'm . . . so go ahead and fuck whoever you want. I guess I shouldn't be jealous anymore. I guess that's what it was about, jealousy. I . . . I'll leave now. - You don't have to, Augie. You can stay, we can talk about this. - (Harry) I'll get out of your way. - (Augie) No, no, I . . . I think I need to go somewhere and be alone for a bit. Jordan, maybe we should talk later, but I don't think I'm ready. And Harry, you're right � Jordan is a good person. Harry, you're a good person, too. Bless you. You've given me hope. I wish I could find a way to give you hope, too. But how? * * * * * * * * SATURDAY, DECEMBER 22 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � JASPER I woke at dawn. I could dimly see the sleeping forms of Seth, Ian, Sean and Gary/Cody/Ray. Tim's wedge was unoccupied, but I wasn't alarmed; his birthday wasn't until tomorrow, so he was probably just out for a call of nature. I surveyed the naked bodies sprawled out on the tower floor, and marveled at their beauty. My cock sprang to life, as it so often did; when Tim returned, I'd sneak out for a morning wank. There was Seth, his spectacular body laid out before me, his massive cock dangling between his legs. There was Ian, compact and fit, his cock tempting me to take it in my mouth. And there was Sean, brawny without being showy like Seth, his cock listing to one side, nearly as impressive as Seth's. The only cock I couldn't see belonged to Gary, who was sleeping on his stomach. Which was the proximate cause of my emerging erection. His sturdy torso, with the well-formed back of a swimmer, led down to a pair of hams that I craved. Gary was on the tall side and perfect bubble-butts were more common in shorter men; taller men's butts often tended toward a more oval or rectangular shape. But Gary's buns were iconic in their roundness, a pair of ripe cantaloupes welded to a human body. I'd now gone three weeks without sex. Hear that, Doctor Faraday? At least, three weeks without intercourse. I still wanked twice a day; otherwise I'd be sporting a 24-hour hardon. But some of the most tempting targets of my lust � Paul, Dai, Leo � had been early departures. Of those who remained, Gary's ass had assumed the role of the land of Israel to my Moses-on-Mt.-Sinai � a place I was allowed to see but not enter. My hand hovered near that irresistible ass as his back heaved slowly up and down. I got distracted for a moment, and my hand landed on his right buttock; before I knew it, I was stroking it. It felt so smooth, so warm, so erotic in my hand. Naturally, it woke him up. I quickly withdrew, wondering whether to cover up my transgression with a fib or an apology. It would depend upon which version of him I had awakened. No apology proved to be necessary. He didn't mention the hand on his ass. But I could see by the expression on his face that he was worried about something. Which meant he was Gary � neither Cody nor Ray would display that amount of anxiety. - Jasper. - Yeah, Gary? - . . . What day is it? How long have I been away? - It's Saturday, Gary. The 22nd. - Saturday? Last I remember, it was Wednesday. - Then I guess it's been three days. - Jasper. - Yeah? - Where is everybody? I deduced the source of his anxiety. Cody and Ray had dominated the last couple of days, during which our population had been diminished by five. - Wednesday was Vic's birthday. Did the dodecagon � ? - I'm afraid so. There . . . have been a lot of changes, Gary. Augie's been recaptured. Al, Stan, Theo � they're all gone, too. It's just you, me, Seth and Tim. Tim's here, he's just outside, probably taking a leak. And of course Sean and Ian are here, too, you can see them. - I don't trust them. - Those are probably good instincts, Gary. - . . . Jasper? - Yeah? - . . . Did you . . . did you touch my rear end? - (Oh, shit. He did notice.) Uh, yeah, Gary, I did. I'm sorry. - No, it's all right. It . . . it felt nice. I wish . . . There was a pause, long enough that I worried it was one of THOSE pauses. - Stay with me, Gary. Keep the others inside. - . . . I'm still here, Jasper. - Good. Take your time. Compose your thoughts. Whatever they are, it's okay, okay? You're safe here. - Am I? - You're safe with me, anyway. - . . . Suppose Sean and Ian are just pretending to be asleep. - You want to go outside? - No, I'll just . . . I think they're asleep anyway, from the way they're breathing. - So okay, go ahead. You wish what? - I wish . . . I wish I . . . could . . . - . . . you wish you could . . . - . . . have sex. Oh, jeez, Gary. So do I. Do you see how I'm trying to hide my erection? - Ray has sex, doesn't he? The wistfulness in his voice was painful. Oh, Gary. - He tried once with Augie, but he hasn't actually had sex that I know of. - Cody? - Cody's not interested in sex. He just wants to find his cattle. - Ray's probably had sex though, somewhere else. Before, I mean. - Are you wondering if you're a virgin, Gary? - No, I'm � what I mean is that I don't really know what the others are up to. - And you haven't had sex yourself, that you remember. - . . . Not . . . - It's okay. It's okay, Gary. Remember, you're here less than a third of the time. And it sees like whenever the topic of sex comes up, one of the others takes over. How could you NOT be a virgin? They won't let you. - I suppose. - Listen, Gary, you're doing really well. I think this might be the longest conversation you've had about sex without one of them pushing you out of the way. This is healthy, Gary. I want you to feel safe. I want you to feel like you can say anything you want to me, okay? I'll protect you. - (relaxing a bit) You sound like Doctor Lapidus. Ah. Doctor Lapidus. A psychiatrist, no doubt. The first time he's ever admitted that he's been treated by one. This was good. - I'm not a doctor, Gary. Just a friend. - Do you want to have sex, Jasper? Whoa. Wasn't expecting that. Uh . . . - I mean, you look like you do. You're . . . hard. Maybe it was just an observation, and not a proposition. - I . . . I'm hard a lot, Gary. I have an overactive sex drive. - So it's not me. It is you. And it's also just about anybody with an ass and a cock and balls. But at the moment � yeah, it's you. But what do I say? - . . . Do you want it to be you? There was another pause, another dubious pause. And then a sudden change in attitude. - For corn's sake, Jasper, are you goddamn horny all the damn time? That's disgusting. Shit. He'd morphed into Cody. Dammit, Gary, you came so close. You came so very close. But it was progress. It was a big step. I think Doctor Lapidus would be pleased. There's hope. THE PHALLIC TOWER � TIM (a half hour earlier) No one else was awake; it was still dark inside the tower, which meant the sun hadn't come up yet. My mouth felt like cotton. It was a weird sensation. It was always warm on the island, as well as humid, but the temperature seemed to stay in the eighties most of the time, and it didn't cool off that much at night. The tower, however, seemed to have its own temperature system, and, as we all slept (and lived) in the nude, we were perfectly comfortable � although pillows and mattresses would have been nice. So why did I wake up sweating? And why did I feel like I was inside a pair of scratchy, footless pajamas? I was hot. And itchy. It was pitch black and when I touched my chest I felt something weird. It was pitch black inside the tower, I couldn't see a thing. I knew what it seemed like, but that was absurd. I had to see for myself. Fortunately, there was a handle on the door tonight, and I slipped outside, where there was enough moonlight to see. I looked down at my body. This was impossible. I must be in the middle of a weird dream. But many weird things had happened on this island. Seth awakened unexpectedly nude. And another time with a knife in his hand. Our clothes vanished, bit by bit. Dodecagons appeared where they had not been before. Shit, the whole fucking tower had even moved across the island. So add this to the list of impossible things that were possible in Betaworld: My entire body was covered in feathers. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE � BALANCING ACT]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-50	Date: Sat, 13 Jul 2024 18:03:33 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel <[email protected]> Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 50 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 – a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER FIFTY: THE DECISION Previously: Seth's final task is to behead Abe – which, he is told, will result in Abe's survival in the new multiverse. Seth asks what happens if he refuses, and is presented with a nightmare scenario in which all the captives face grim futures. Many die – including Abe, who is blown apart by a terrorist bomb – some are incarcerated, others face loss of income, reputation, and romance. Seth rejects the video as a fabrication. When Jesús learns this, he threatens to behead all of Hamish's prisoners – and since they have no Alpha-lives, they would not continue onward if The Project is launched. Sean, who has been pretending (for Jesús's sake) to back The Project, reveals his true stripes and turns against it, telling Seth that Abe has no Alpha-life, and that if he launches The Project by executing Abe, Abe will not survive to see it. This chapter begins moments before the end of the previous chapter, at about seven minutes before midnight. THE WHITE ROOM – SEAN This was the moment. I had played the only card I had – that Abe had no Alpha-life. It was a lie, of course – Abe had an Alpha-life, and if Seth launched The Project, Abe would exist in the multiverse. I have lied often enough over the course of the last two weeks – and, indeed, over the last five years – for Seth to doubt me. But Seth clearly doubts Jesús as well; the question is which of us he will believe. My professions of love were not a lie. I hope he recognizes that. I really, truly have fallen in love with him. I really, truly want to spend eternity with him. That can happen only if The Project fails. Abe and Seth would go back to Cleveland and Abe would live – until Abe's `accident', after which I would swoop in as consoler-in-chief, and Seth would fall into my arms; if he didn't, I'd abduct him and force him to be my slave. Involuntary slavery is never a good beginning, but eventually it would evolve into a mutually loving relationship, I had no doubt of that. Seth and I would have a happy life, even if he spent it naked and confined in my isolated chalet in the Alps. But If he chose to launch The Project – if he believed that he could only save Abe by killing him – then I was condemned to govern Lesboworld – without Seth, without any men at all, except for that one day a month when one of the others would relieve me for a day so I could travel to another universe and fuck every sexy body I could find. ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND - JESÚS This was the moment. I had made my case. Sean had attempted to undercut it, something I had not foreseen. He had known about his assignment to Lesboworld for two months, he said. How had he found out? That secret had been locked in the vault for four years, and no one had the combination but me. Could Thibaut, with his sophisticated software, have determined the 144-digit code that unlocked the vault? Each digit was alpha-numeric, and transversed a multitude of alphabets. The number of permutations was not in the hundreds – it had hundreds of digits. Well, that was irrelevant now. Perhaps Sean had been responsible for all the glitches that required adjustments to the physics, starting with the appearance of Murdock and King on the island. And the attempt to keep Kowalczyk alive. And . . . But Sean had skillfully not shown his hand too early. Seth had dutifully performed his duties, right up to the moment. Sean was playing a dangerous game – playing me and Seth at the same time. If The Project launched, Sean would get his just desserts. Or considering the environment of Lesboworld, his just deserts. If it failed, I would have to take action. If I were allowed to. The Board might blame me for the failure – Ari in particular seemed anxious to replace me. But Ari was firmly behind The Project – he wanted his Warworld, I was sure of that. ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND – ARI This was the moment. It was fascinating to watch. I would come out a winner either way. If Herrick went ahead and chopped off his boyfriend's head (which I would indeed enjoy watching), then The Project would launch and I would reign over Warworld. If it failed, I would blame Jesús for its failure and I was confident the Board would install me as chairman. Under my leadership, Stimulever would reformulate Alphaworld in my own vision – we'd have war either way. Of course, I had promised Sean I would make him my second in command. Now that he had shown his true colors by publicly trying to persuade Herrick to spare his lover, I could no longer do that. I'd have to bounce him from the Board and replace him with Hamish – the only man ruthless enough for the job. THE WHITE ROOM – ABE This was the moment. My chin rested on the chopping block. There was a half-inch between my neck and the wood below. My knees were on the floor, arms tied behind my back. I could have lifted my head, but what would have been the point? They would have just pushed it back down again. Percy had told me that I had to die in order to live. Percy had told me this was the last day of my life `in this universe'. Sean was now saying these were the last moments of my life anywhere. Could I believe either of them? Sean had manipulated me into an affair with him that could have ruined my relationship with Seth, to advance his own purposes. Percy was genuinely fond of me, but his true loyalty was to his damn Project and to Hamish, whom one could not trust further than one could toss a battleship. Either way, I readied myself for the feel of a sharp blade at the back of my neck any moment now. Either from Seth or from one of Hamish's henchmen. The question was whether I would feel anything after that ever again. THE WHITE ROOM - HARRY For the second time in hours, I was kneeling in front of a chopping block. The first time, I had been seconds away from decapitation. And now, this guy Jesús was threatening to execute us all if Seth didn't kill Abe. My Sidney Carton moment had all been for nothing. I had reprieved Jordan – and Augie – for mere hours. Unless Seth, the man I admired most in the world, did the unthinkable, and murdered his true love. I didn't mind for me. I'd been prepared to die, and, even without the dire future they had projected for me in their fake video, life for me in Alphaworld wouldn't be no crystal stair, as Langston Hughes put it. There was nothing for me to return to. But if I was to die, I wanted it to have meaning. It meant something when I was saving Jordan and Augie. Now, what good was my death doing for anyone? Could I ask Seth to behead the one person he truly loved, for my sake? No. But for everyone's sake? I don't know. Damn ethics. THE WHITE ROOM – SETH Hamish faced me, awaiting my decision. Jesús, on the monitor, peered at me intensely. I took a deep breath, and spoke. - No. A murmur went through the room. - I don't believe you, Jesús. I don't know if Sean is telling the truth or not, but if he is, and Abe has no Alpha-life, I can't risk that. Sean has lied to me time and time again, but what if he's right? Like I'm supposed to believe YOU? If I don't let your fucking Project go through, Abe will still be alive and we can be together – and it won't be in that phony vision of hell you tried to sell me just now. Sean is still in love with me, that seems clear, but he knows that if I go back to Alphaworld with Abe, that I'll be with Abe and he has no chance. So if I can do Sean a favor and spare him from this Lesboworld you're threatening him with, I think that's a good thing to do. But I think Lesboworld is a bluff, too, Jesús. You're proving to me that Stimulever is a culture of lies, lies, and damn lies. I'm not falling for it. The answer is no. I said that with so much more calm than I was feeling. I looked around the room. Abe was facing away from me, so I couldn't read his reaction. But the only happy face I saw belonged to Sean. Hamish was furious, and the Twelve were worried. Would Jesús carry out his threats? I was counting on them to be a bluff. What would he have to gain from executing thirteen innocent men just out of spite? I focused on the monitor. Jesús's face was impassive. I couldn't read it. Was it disappointment? Anger? Fear? Resolution? Acceptance? I knew the next voice in the room would be his, and it would give me my answer. - (Jesús) Stefan. Behead O'Leahy. THE WHITE ROOM – IAN What? No, please god no! FLASHBACK: IAN (CLEVELAND) – March, last year I saw him, sitting alone at the bar, looking miserable. And drinking quite a bit. I decided to approach him. - Are you okay? - Huh? . . . Yeah, sure. Why do you ask? - To be honest, you look a little down. - I do? - You're sitting in a gay bar, alone, not talking to anyone, during a slow time of the day, and that's your third whiskey. - You've been watching me for a while. - I have. - Why? - I'm a people-watcher. - That sounds like fun. Glad I could entertain you. I don't see you with anyone, why are YOU here? - I came with a friend. He had to leave. - And you stayed around - ? - To watch people. - Looking for someone to pick up? Pickings are slim this time of day. - You're not slim. - You trying to pick me up? - You look like you need a friend. - Huh. Offering your services? - I'm offering to be someone to talk to. My name's Ian. - Seth. - What happened, Seth? - What makes you think something happened? - I've never seen you here before at this time of day. And you have that definite `drowning-your-sorrows' look. - Maybe I have sorrows to drown. - Romance gone awry? - What makes you say that? Maybe I got fired. Maybe I lost my rent money betting on the Cavs. Maybe my parakeet died. - I've watched people for a long time. You have that `I just broke up with my boyfriend' look. - Did Ysidro send you? - Who's Ysidro? - The boyfriend I just broke up with. You're not a spy he sent to check on me? - No, sorry, I'm just your neighborhood busybody. - Is your body busy? - What? - Sorry, old habits. That was flirt-talk. I've been through about six boyfriends in the last three years. - You took this one hard. - I did. - You want to talk it over at my place? - You ARE trying to pick me up. - Let's just say I don't think this bar is the healthiest place for you to get your mind off Ysidro. - And your place is? - Distractions can be useful. He took a moment and looked me over, then chugged down the last dregs of his whiskey. - I can use a distraction. And you look good enough to be one. But let's get one thing established. I only pitch. - Whoa, cowboy. We talk first. Let it evolve. - Listen, if we have sex – that's not negotiable. I pitch. You catch. - Looking at your body, I didn't take you for a catcher. I'm a pitcher myself, mostly. But I'll catch for the right guy. - Am I the right guy? - Let's find out. It wasn't altogether spontaneous. My friend Jason (now known to be Paolo of Stimulever fame) had spotted Seth and suggested I try to befriend him. Seth and I went back to my apartment and talked. And talked. He told me all about his break-up with Ysidro. I told him my last boyfriend had broken up with me after I took him to a slave auction, which hadn't gone well. That, of course, was Abe, but I don't think I mentioned the name. We lasted together for six months. By fall, I had grown tired of a relationship in which I was only bottoming. And I had met Jude – now known to be Sean of Stimulever fame. `Jude', supposedly a psychologist, convinced me I was wrong for Seth, and vice-versa. It seems I was just a pawn in their scheme. Seth took our break-up hard. But, as much as I resented Paolo and Sean for manipulating me like a marionette, it was the right thing to do. As it was the right thing to help repair his nascent relationship with Abe. The right thing at the time. Now it looked like I was responsible for Abe's death – and my own. THE WHITE ROOM – SETH In that moment, I realized how much Ian had been to me. He had been six months of solace after Ysidro, and, if not for him, I would never have had that third date with Abe that smoothed things over and set-up our relationship. But this threat against his life was just another bluff. I was convinced of it. THE WHITE ROOM – AUGIE Thirteen of us, kneeling, in two rows, in front of thirteen chopping blocks. In front of me was Seth, and in front of him was Abe, in front of the fourteenth chopping block in the room. And Stefan held an axe. Stefan who approached Ian, who was next to me in the front row. I thought about the times Ian had fucked me down here in Hamishland, and how he was one of the kindest and most considerate lieutenants. And how much he had loved Stan. And then Stefan raised his axe and chopped off Ian's head. THE WHITE ROOM – SETH He did it. He actually did it. I couldn't charge Jesús, who was a continent away. And I couldn't charge Stefan – he still held the axe. But I could charge Hamish. I barreled toward him headlong at full speed. He wasn't expecting that and fell to the ground the moment my body collided with his. I punched him hard in the face and started to tear off his robes – I'm not sure what I was thinking doing that, maybe that I wanted him naked so I could rape him, or maybe I just wanted to remove one of the symbols of his power over us. I got in a half dozen solid blows before they pulled me off him. It took four or five of them to do so, but in the end I was pulled several feet away, and held there. All I could do now was shout at the screen. - You BASTARD! You fucking asshole of a shit-eating bastard! He was my friend! You had no right to do that! Your quarrel is with me, not Ian! You – - (Jesús) Oh, stuff it, Herrick. Shut him up, boys. And I found my mouth suddenly stuffed with a penis gag, which was fastened around my head, and taped in place. As this was occurring, Jesús continued talking to me. - You're wasting valuable time. There are barely four minutes left in the launch window. We'll have to execute one of the others every few seconds, ending with your beloved Derisian. But if it consoles you at all, Ian has an Alpha-life. Could I believe that? Much as I wanted to question him about that, in my current state, nothing I tried to say would have been intelligible. I couldn't stop staring at Ian's severed head, lying on the floor feet away from me. - (Sean) He's lying, Seth. Ian is dead now, just as Abe will be if you – - SHMMM THMM FMMMM MMP, SHNNN. My feeble attempts at shouting `shut the fuck up, Sean'. Jesús was the only one who mattered now. - (Jesús) But aside from Derisian, none of the others here do. Their deaths will be forever. Uri, behead Mancini. THE WHITE ROOM – HARRY So here it was – the end of my miserable life, my comfort being that on its final day, a magnificent man with a magnificent cock had indeed fucked the proverbial shit out of me. I was not going to die a virgin, or even an almost-virgin. I had been mouth-raped and I had been ass-fucked, and it made up for all the barbecue sauce in the world. I watched Uri approach with the axe, its blade now tinged with Ian's blood. He stood next to me. - (Uri) Sorry, pal. I don't want to do this, but, you know – I have to. - It's okay. I'm ready. I closed my eyes. And for the second time in hours I heard a man lift the heavy axe that would put an end to it all. And for the second time in hours, I heard: - Wait! It was not Barry this time. Not a familiar voice at all. And it came from several feet in front of me. I opened my eyes and saw Abe Derisian standing and facing the monitor. FLASHBACK: ABE (CLEVELAND) – two months ago It was a Friday, and I was spending the night. Seth had prepared our gin-and-tipsies, but he swallowed his in nearly one big gulp. He was moody; something was up. - What is it? - What's what? - You're tense, or worried, or something. What happened? Is it me? Is it us? - No, not you. You're perfect. I waited. He looked at me and smiled the saddest smile I think I had ever seen in my life. - I got a raise. - (laughing) Goodness, what a crushing blow that must have been. He glared at me. - Seth, what gives? You got a raise, and you look depressed. - I am depressed. - I realize I'm just an ignorant doctoral student, unaccustomed to the ways of the corporate world, but it's been my impression that when executives get a raise, it generally makes them happy. - Do I deserve a raise? - . . . I don't really know, I'm not in a position to evaluate the quality of your work. - The quality of my work is irrelevant. The nature of my work is. Why do people like me get paid like this? What does Dawson & Pace do for the world? They help rich people get richer. And I get rewarded for helping the rich get richer. And screwing the little guy. - Screwing the little guy? - By omission. If the rich get richer, somebody gets poorer, and that's the little guy. And I'm doing absolutely nothing to help those who really need the help. I couldn't argue with that, so I stayed quiet, waiting. - I feel hollow, Abe. Trying to lighten the mood, I punched him lightly in the stomach and pressed my head against it. - Nope. Not hollow. Solid. At least he smiled at that. - I think back to our very first date – the good one, before the handcuff disaster – and you came in here and I was trying to seduce you and you asked me about my job. Do you remember what I said? - I think you asked me what I wanted to drink. - Exactly. I was embarrassed to tell you what I did for a living. I'm not doing anything productive for society, Abe. I have no value. My life isn't meaningful. - . . . Oh. Thanks. - I don't mean us. That's – that's one of the things that helps. But here I am, closing in on thirty, and I'm just making money and contributing absolutely nothing to benefit mankind. I'm thinking I should quit my job and join the Peace Corps or something. - . . . You want to go off to Africa? - I don't mean that literally – I'm not going to leave Cleveland and abandon you. But I want to make a difference, Abe. I want to matter. - . . . I think I understand. - Thank you. Sorry to be such a Debbie Downer. - It's okay. . . . Seth. - Yeah? - . . . You matter to me. THE WHITE ROOM – ABE - Sir, can I talk to him? - (Jesús) To Mancini? - To Seth. - . . . There are four minutes remaining in the launch window. If your head is still on your shoulders with ninety seconds remaining, we will simultaneously behead all of the others. All of them, all at once. - Could you ungag him so he could talk? An unacceptably long pause. I stared at the thirty-year-old face in the monitor and saw him nod his approval. I turned to my beloved as two of the lieutenants removed the penis gag from his mouth. - Seth, do it. I know you're scared you'll lose me forever, but if you don't, you'll lose me forever anyway. They'll cut off my head, sure as the sun rises in the east, and they'll make you suffer by watching everyone else die first. I'll be dead either way, and if THEY kill me there's no hope. . . . Do it, Seth. - . . . Babe. What you're asking me to do – I love you. - You said you wanted to make a difference. This is your chance. I don't know if this Project of theirs will work or not but they've done some pretty impressive stuff so far and maybe this Project will improve the world. You can make that difference. You can change the world. - Babe – - You can matter. You'll always matter to me, Seth, you know that, whatever happens we'll either live together happily or die knowing how much we love each other. But let me not die thinking that we might have had a chance. It's our only chance, Seth. Our only chance. And I couldn't stand to let all these other innocent people die because of me. I'd die with that guilt on my conscience – that they died because I didn't. His eyes were so wet I'm not sure he could see out of them. - Dry those eyes, Seth. I don't want your vision blurry and interfering with your aim. He wiped his eyes on his arm and stepped forward. - One last kiss. It was a brief one, but it was tender, and chills went up and down my spine. He turned to Stefan. - (Seth) Hand me the axe. [COMING UP NEXT: THE NEW YEAR (and yes, it's the final chapter)]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-12	Date: Thu, 22 Feb 2024 18:26:49 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel <[email protected]> Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 12 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 – a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER 12: APPAULING DEVELOPMENTS Previously, at the Phallic Tower: * Paul encounters a blue dodecagon, prompting him to strip naked and attempt to kiss Dai. The next morning he wakes up wearing only a jockstrap – and unable to remove it. * Harry and Seth find a flight manifest listing only the passengers on the right side – minus Seth. All of their birthdays are in December, and the same numbers appear on the floor of the Phallic Tower. * Seth receives a note indicating that he can lead the group off the island, but only if he remains in the nude. He has been circumspect about explaining his nudity to most of the guys. In Aruba: * Jordan (Augie's `girlfriend') and her sister Jen have connected with Miles, Vic's boyfriend. Having learned that Flight 12 has disappeared, they are intent on suing Zen Tropical Airways. The internet has virtually no trace of ZTA's existence – but Miles finds a reference to a parent company, Stimulever. Jordan is a biological male who has withheld that fact from Augie, hoping to have `the operation' before the naďve and religiously conservative Augie discovers the truth. In flashbacks: * In high school, Augie, although fiercely homophobic, fellated a classmate, Anthony, then feared that the act would condemn him to hell. * * * * * * * * SUNDAY, DECEMBER 2 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER – SETH - You have to talk to them, Seth. You have to tell them about this. - Harry – - Seth, they – whoever `they' is – consider you the leader. So lead. He had a point. Yesterday I was wearing Augie's briefs and Ed's weskit, and had to awkwardly explain that the rest of my clothes had been stolen. And here I was, once again naked. Harry, as usual, was right. Everyone knew that we were experiencing strangeness. They needed to know what I knew. I gathered everyone by the Phallic Tower. - A lot of you are wondering why I'm naked and why Paul is dressed in a jockstrap. I don't have the answer to that. We all know that bizarre things have been occurring. Some of us have even speculated that we are dead. I have been assured that that is not the case. This got a reaction. Assured? Assured by whom? - This morning, I received a note, addressed to me personally, written in fancy calligraphy. It says, "You are not dead. You are not dreaming. You are on planet earth. There is a way off this island. Only you can make it happen. But you cannot do it with clothes on." - We are definitely under the influence of a higher power – I don't mean God in the traditional sense, but there's something out there more powerful than us. A power who built this giant phallus, who made the dodecagons, who took away our door handle last night. Some of you may not have noticed, but we were sealed in. - (Harry) I can vouch for that. Gary tried to go out last night and couldn't. - (Tim) Gary? Who's Gary?. - (Harry) Sorry, I meant Ray. He reminds me of someone I know named Gary. `Ray' didn't object, so Harry must have guessed right. Eventually, they'd have to know about the multiple personalities, which I presumed predated Flight 12. But that information could wait; premature disclosure could make them worry that the island had caused it and might do the same to them. - The door opened only after I read this note. Last night I went to sleep wearing clothes; this morning, for the second day in a row, I woke up naked. Paul woke up today in a jockstrap. Leo's clothing, left outside, also disappeared overnight. There is no trace of the missing clothing anywhere. - This morning we also found a flight manifest that excluded myself and the entire left side of the plane. I don't know what that means. We've discovered multiple occurrences of the number twelve. There are twelve of us, twelve colors on this tower, twelve sides to the dodecagons, all of your birthdays are in this, the twelfth month of the year, and we got here on Flight 12. Too many coincidences to be coincidences. - We're up against some kind of supernatural force. That sounds ridiculous, but it's the only explanation that makes even a modicum of sense. I have to take them seriously when they say I can get you out of here. And if I have to stay naked to do that, I'll stay naked. I'm sorry if that offends any of you. Judging from the way most of them were focusing their eyes two feet below my face, I'd guess it didn't. Except for Ed and Augie. THE PHALLIC TOWER – AUGIE I saw them looking at Seth's junk. There are a lot of perverts in this group. I guess I shouldn't call them perverts. I'm not sure, but I think Harry is one of them, and he seems nice. Seth's nice, too, but he's naked again, which really freaks me out. The others? Jasper might be – not sure. Dai's from San Francisco – he doesn't look gay, but do Chinese guys ever look gay? Leo's queer, which bugs his dad of course, but that's really all I know about him. Vic looks like a football player, he can't be a homo. Lucas and Tim – nah. But then I didn't think Cody was, until he said his name was Ray and wanted me to suck his dick. Total perv. And this morning, this guy Paul had stripped down to a jockstrap – how sick was that? That's like half the group that's queer – maybe more. I know I shouldn't be judgmental, but I do worry about their souls. And about my own. Would God ever forgive me for that episode with Alfonso? Yes – God is forgiving, and I've repented that sin, but I still think about Alfonso sometimes. And that worries me. I wish one of these guys was a pastor I could confess to. I think I could talk to Harry, but not about an attraction that was burning through my memory and I couldn't expunge. Not if Harry was one of them himself. Seth gave us this little pep rally speech, basically declaring himself in charge. Well, that was okay, I guess. He seemed to be a natural leader, even if he was naked. He went on to organize another expedition, hunting for something we could use to get ourselves out of here, as well as food and water – water was essential. I was trying to figure out who to group with, but before I knew it Ray came bounding up to me and asked to be in my group. I didn't want to be rude, and he was polite about it and everything, it's not like he was trying to groom me or anything – that's what they do, isn't it, groom people to turn them gay? But I thought if I could get someone big and strong – and straight – to be our third, it would be okay. So I asked Vic, who seemed to understand that I was asking him for protection, and said okay. We took a path through the woods to the east, heading toward the beach, where we knew there were coconuts. I hoped they'd open if we dashed them on a rock or the floor of the tower – but food was only the secondary objective. Rescue was the first. I steered Vic away from a path that would take us toward where the yellow medallion was – knowing how Ray had gone berserk seeing it. But instead of finding that yellow medallion, we found a green one. THE WOODS – VIC I felt like a chaperone on a date, there to make sure the guy behaved appropriately toward the girl. I'd been there when Ray had gone nuts, seeing the yellow decawhatzit on the forest floor and urging Augie to blow him. So when Augie asked me to go with him and Ray, I knew immediately what the story was. Ray had obviously pressured him into being in the same group. Everything was fine until we saw that green granite slab – the decawhatzit. Never in a million years could I have predicted what happened next. While I'd never heard Augie make comments that were blatantly homophobic, it was clear he was uncomfortable with those of us who preferred our own sex. (Miles, how I wish I could tell you I was alive and how much I love you.) But the moment we got within sight of the green decawhatzit, Augie went off the deep end. Not Ray – Augie! Ray, if anything, was as stunned as I was. For Augie had rushed toward the slab, stood on it, and started tearing off his clothes. - Augie! Augie, stop that. - (Augie) Ray! Ray, come fuck me. Take me, Ray! I want your cock! Before I knew it, Augie was stark naked. And Ray, whom I might have expected to grin widely, drop his pants and accept the invitation, looked horrified. - (Ray) What the hell are you doing? Get your damn clothes on. Augie didn't, and started to dance. Enough was enough. Part of me was scared to venture onto the thing, afraid it might do something weird to me, but I remembered yesterday people had gone onto the yellow decawhatzit without it affecting them, so I went after Augie, and pulled him off the thing. Briefly, I thought I saw a design in the center – a goat? I looked again, and it was gone. Probably my imagination. Away from the decawhatzit, Augie looked at me, stunned. - (Augie) Can you get my clothes, please? I don't want to go back there. - Augie, what the hell happened? - I don't know. I just – did I say anything? It seems like I did, but I don't remember. - Yeah, you . . . well, never mind what you said. Are you okay now? - God, I'm so embarrassed. I don't know why I did that. It was like – it was drawing me in, like I just HAD to strip naked and dance on it. - (Ray) How'd it get to be green? - What do you mean? - (Ray) It was yellow a minute ago, now it's green. And where are the others – Seth and the British fellow? And the fat guy. And . . . shit, this ain't the same place, is it? I realized that he was talking about the yellow decawhatzit we had seen yesterday on the way to the phallic tower – the one that had made HIM go crazy. It was as if Ray had forgotten everything that had happened since then. - Ray – - (Ray) Shit, was he here? - Who? - (Ray) Ray. - You're Ray. - (Ray) The hell I am. Don't you remember? I just met you a little while ago. Cody Benson. Listen, is the little pervert got his clothes back on? I don't want to look. - He's . . . getting there. - (Cody) Ray's been here, hasn't he? That's why he was shouting for Ray to fuck him. - (Augie) WHAT?! - (Cody) Yeah, you did, you little sicko. That's truly disgusting. You tear off your clothes and go dancing around and beg Ray to fuck you in the ass. - (Augie) I did no such thing! - . . . Yeah, Augie, you did. - (Augie) I . . . I couldn't have. I'm not like that. I don't – (to Cody) You – you're the one who wanted me to suck your dick. - (Cody) Oh, shit, kid, you're too much. I ought to lasso you up like a calf who needs branding. - (Augie) . . . When I first met you, you said your name was Cody, but then you said your name was Ray, and you wanted me to . . . have sex with you. - (Cody) No, that was him, that weren't me. I'd never do that. I ain't never – I don't even do that with women. Now don't you go spreadin' that around, I should never have said that, but if I don't do that with women, I surely ain't never gonna do that with no seventeen-year-old boy. - (Augie) I'm almost twenty. - (Cody) Well, you look seventeen. - (Augie) I'm not a pervert, Cody, Ray, whatever your name is. I have a girlfriend. ORANJESTAD, ARUBA – JORDAN There was nothing more to be gained at the airport. In the end, ZTA told us . . . nothing. Well, they did tell us that the plane never reappeared on the controllers' radar. And, obviously, it had never arrived here – or anywhere else. So it was logical to conclude . . . That Augie was dead. That Vic was dead. Miles and I were both devastated. And furious. We had moved on to the hotel that Augie had booked for us. Miles cancelled his hotel reservation and got a room at our hotel so we could coordinate efforts. At the stroke of midnight, Miles had contacted a friend named Nick who had computer hacking skills. Miles told him how and where he had found that single reference to Stimulever, which looked like it might be the parent company of Zen Tropical Airways; maybe Nick could access them somehow. This morning, Miles was on the phone to lawyers. They were unsuccessful in finding a way of contacting Stimulever, but we weren't about to give up. It was about two in the afternoon when we got a phone call from Nick. Jen put us all on speaker, but it was Miles who did the talking. - (Nick) Found them. Briefly. - (Miles) What do you mean, briefly? - Well, I finally hacked into their homepage. I mean, they had firewalls within firewalls, I had to get help from friends – but I didn't tell them what it was about. - And? - I found their home page. For about thirty seconds. Then it vanished. I think maybe they got wind of the fact that someone had gotten past all their smokescreens and disabled it. - Shit. They're obviously terrified of lawsuits if they're going to all of this trouble to hide. So, do you think there's any way to get it back? I mean, we need names, addresses, all that stuff. - All is not lost. - Why? - I got a screenshot before they pulled it down. And took a photo with my phone, as well. I got names, I got the address of their corporate headquarters. - Fabulous! - They're in Switzerland. - Not so fabulous. Can we sue them in Switzerland, Miles? - We're going to damn well try. Can you send us the pix you took with your phone? - Will do. Hey, good luck, you guys. - Thanks, Nick. We had a three-way high-five. Miles went back to his room to pass on the information to the lawyer. Jen and I went to the bar to celebrate and wind down from a tumultuous past twenty-four hours. - (Jen) So how are you holding up? - Horribly. I feel such guilt, Jen. - Guilt? Why? They forced us to get on the first plane, they wouldn't let Augie on it. - That's not what I mean. I feel guilt because – oh, this is terrible. - Of course it's terrible, you've – - Jen, shut up. That's not what I'm talking about. Augie dying . . . it . . . it solves a problem. - . . . ? - In a way. - I'll wait. . . . Okay, what problem? - I didn't want to have the operation. - . . . Oh? - . . . I was only going to have the operation because of Augie. - And now you don't have to, is that it? - Yes. Part of me is relieved. Relieved, Jen. I wanted to stay a man, and I wanted Augie. I knew I couldn't have both, so I decided to give up being a man. I loved him that much, Jen. I thought, it will be okay, I won't miss my cock and balls because I'll have Augie and that's really all I want. But . . . I didn't want to give them up, that's why I was dragging my feet on the operation. - Weren't you transitioning before you met Augie? - . . . Actually, no. I was transitioning because of Augie. - Explain. - Ever play truth or dare? Well, I got dared. - Dared to do what? - Go to a conservative church in drag. - Is this story going where I think it's going? - Yeah, I think so. I went to Augie's church, because my friend Marcel said it was one of the most reactionary churches around, where they preached about the sins of homosexuality. He dared me to walk in there in drag. Well, I was scared silly, so I decided that if I was going to be in drag, it was going to be the most convincing drag possible, so that no one would guess. - And you met Augie. - It was like magic. The chemistry was instant, and he was so sweet and so naďve. I had to see him again, so I went back the next week. And then he asked me out, and I just had to keep up the pretense. The more I got to know him, the more I fell in love with him – and he with me – but I knew that if he knew I was really a man that he'd never forgive me. - And you've kept this up for how long? - Six months. - You had to know you'd have to tell him sometime. - Well, that's when I started to have thoughts that – if I had to – I'd get my cock and balls hacked off and just live as a woman. - Jordan, that's so dangerous. - He actually met me once, as me. He came by one day as a surprise. I was just me, male me. I told him I was Jordan's brother, visiting from out of town, and that Jordan had gone out shopping. He was all like, `wow, I can tell you're her brother, you look just like her'. Fortunately, I had told him about you, and I had invented a brother Jeremy just in case I needed him in an emergency – which I did. But after that, I thought, maybe I'd better stay female all the time. It was right when I was changing jobs, so I applied for the new job as a pre-op trans female. I dressed every day as a woman, and I thought, `I can get used to this. I can do this all the time. The only problem will be when Augie and I have sex, or he gropes in the wrong area.' But he was so religious, and so shy, and so conservative, that I knew he would never do that until our wedding night. - Shit, Jordan. - So now I can go back to being Jordan Murdock, dude. And I'll tell my job that I changed my mind. - Shit, Jordan. - Yeah. I know. And that's why I'm feeling guilt. - And that's why you should. That was so unfair to Augie. The truth hurts. She was absolutely right. At least now he'll never know. THE PHALLIC TOWER – PAUL After Seth spoke to us this morning, I felt better. He may have been stripped naked – twice, apparently – but he'd clearly been anointed in some way. He was our leader, and he was supposed to be naked, and somehow his nudity was important – and essential for getting us off the island. So maybe my almost nudity was important, too. It was horrifying both to find my clothes gone and replaced by a jockstrap – and to find that I could not remove it, resulting in the humiliating event of having to piss through it when my need to piss exceeded what I could tolerate. Fortunately, with my open and exposed backside, I could still evacuate my bowels, but that was small comfort indeed. After seeing Seth's borrowed clothing vanish, not to be replaced, no one was eager to lend me clothes. Dai gave me his shirt, a red polo shirt with blue stripes, which left him bare-chested (and oh what a nice, smooth, muscular chest it was). The shirt wasn't long enough to cover my ass, but it made me feel less naked. Dai is a good man, I like him . . . in more than one way. Seth was forming groups for another expedition. No one wanted to team up with me – I was too weird, too freaky. Seth, though completely naked, was accepted, but I was a sideshow, the guy who had gone off his rocker when that blue dodecagon appeared. I was a weirdo, like Ray was a weirdo, and thus to be avoided. I think people still liked me, but feared that I would contaminate them somehow. I wondered especially about Dai, whom I had tried to kiss. It was subconscious, but there was a reason I chose Dai. He was gorgeous. And – was it my imagination? – maybe he liked me a little in the way I liked him. The fact that he lent me his shirt – maybe that was a sign. But he hadn't weighed in on yesterday's event, whether he was offended or possibly turned on – and I wasn't about to ask. I thought I'd just hang around the tower while the others went off, maybe search the nearby area for berries or something, but then Seth and Harry asked me to join them. Harry said maybe if we found a stream I could wash my jockstrap along with myself. That seemed like a good idea – water was crucial to our survival, and if we found a place to bathe – well, we'd all be pretty gamey soon if we didn't. There ought to be water on this island, and on my expedition yesterday I'd seen an area where the geology looked conducive to being near a stream. I thought I might have even heard the sound of running water, but once I saw that blue dodecagon, all other thoughts vanished from my head. I mentioned this to Seth. He frowned. But water was so important, he agreed that we head in that general direction, maybe I could find the place that made me think there was water nearby. There was another thought in my head, which I kept to myself. Only to hear Harry voicing it aloud. - (Harry) Seth, are you worried about going in the same area as the blue dodecagon? - (Seth) Yeah, to be honest, I am. I think it's risky. - (Harry) It could be good. (turning to me) I mean, it made you take off all your clothes yesterday, right? You want to take off that jockstrap, and can't. Maybe if you went there, you could. Seth looked dubious, but said nothing. I was determined to find that blue dodecagon with expressly that goal. I couldn't think of a really negative consequence – if I went berserk and demanded a blow job like Ray had, well, they wouldn't be able to give me one unless my jockstrap was off. We set out and I found the area that made me think there was water nearby. And we found it – a nice burbling brook with lots of clean, fresh water. It wasn't deep enough for me to wade into up to my waist, but I splashed some water on my front, which seemed to ease the stain a little. I took a risk, peeled off Dai's shirt, and lowered my body so that I was lying prostrate on the water. The stones made it uncomfortable, but the water felt good. And when I got up, my jockstrap was marginally cleaner. - Thanks, Harry. Good suggestion, although it could be better. - (Seth) Let's get ourselves hydrated while we can. If we can't transport this water, at least we can bring everyone here and they can drink from the stream. We spent the next few minutes doing just that. We were on the side of a gentle, wooded hill, and as I looked to the top of it, I saw something that didn't belong. - What's that up there? I think it might be a plane fragment. - (Seth) Another one? Do you think it's the left half of ours? Or from yet another plane? - (Harry) We won't know until we check it out. - If you don't mind, you guys go check it out. I'm going to see if I can get my jock any cleaner. They went traipsing up the hill toward the wreckage. I did not, however, attempt to clean my jock in the water. I wouldn't need to clean my jock if I could take it off – and maybe the blue dodecagon would help me do that. I went to pick up Dai's shirt and . . . it wasn't there. I'd left it on top of a nearby rock while I lay down in the water. It had been there when Seth and Harry started to traipse up the hill. But now it was gone. This time there was no question about it. No one had come along to take Dai's shirt. The island wanted us unclothed – or at least less clothed. I had a pretty good idea of where the blue dodecagon was from here, and – noticing Seth and Harry facing away, nearing the wreckage – I took off in the opposite direction. If I'd asked, Seth would not have let me go near it. I had to go while I had the chance. I found it, about five minutes' walk. And as I approached it, it seemed to me the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. The loveliest shade of blue, the most regular of shapes. But it was not the same as yesterday. At one of the twelve corners, there was a bright blue phallus, six feet high and a foot in diameter. This big blue phallus, perfectly formed, with its veined shaft and magnificent glans. I wanted to embrace it. I wanted to kiss it. I rushed down onto the platform and threw my arms around it. I felt my arms sliding down the shaft, as if I was stroking it, slowly. Wild thoughts ran through my head – a fantasy of bringing this penis to orgasm. I started to raise my arms to begin the act of stroking it up and down – and found I couldn't. My arms wouldn't raise. My head was touching the phallus, almost kissing it – and I wanted to – but I also wanted to jerk this penis off, and yet my arms seemed paralyzed three feet off the ground. Bent over this low, I started to feel uncomfortable and shifted my feet for a better position – and couldn't. I looked down. My feet seemed to have melted into the dodecagon. Everything below my ankles was covered in a sea of blue. And in the blue, I thought I saw the image of an animal – a rabbit? I was trapped. I couldn't move. And then, my feet started to drift further apart, spreading my legs further away from each other – and opening a cleft between my buttocks. I felt something slithering up my leg, like a snake. Or a vine. It insinuated itself up my thigh, weaving in and out and I felt stimulated. Yes, that kind of stimulated. I was growing hard, with the sensuality of whatever it was that was climbing up toward my groin. Only it wasn't climbing toward my groin. It was climbing toward my ass. I felt it reach my perineum, then slither up toward my cleft, upwards, upwards, slowly toward my anus. And then, when it reached it, it darted inside. A thrill pulsed through my body as it invaded my rectum. It writhed within me, delighting the sensitive tissue in my inner sanctum. And then it seemed to expand and stiffen into a cylindrical probe. My ass felt as full as it had ever been when a man fucked me. And then it – whatever it was – did just that. It started to fuck me. It pushed in and out and in and out, plowing me hard, the pleasant pain exploding inside my body. "Yes! Yes" I cried, loving every instant of it. I was in love with this big blue phallus and whatever it was that was drilling me like there was no tomorrow. "Fuck me! Fuck me!" I began to scream at the top of my lungs as, my arms and feet still immobilized, I had no choice but to submit to the rabid pulverization of my ass. I have had anal sex before, but not like this. This was – All of a sudden it withdrew. My arms were freed, and my feet reappeared beneath me. I looked behind me to see what had fucked me, and there was nothing. I just stood there in awe, not comprehending what had just happened. And then the ground collapsed from under me. THE WOODS – HARRY It was indeed wreckage from a plane – a fifth one, this one with black seats. Seth found a torn boarding pass for a passenger named Mackenzie – the first name ended in `an', that was all you could see. And, once again, it was Zen Tropical Airways, but this was Flight 3, from Cancún to Georgetown, Guyana. Valuable information, I suppose, supporting my theory that there might be as many as twelve planes that had crashed on this island. But not really all that useful – we already knew things were strange. What was useful was that we found three one-liter water bottles. While they wouldn't enable us to bring much water back to the tower, it was a start. We headed down the hill to where we had left Paul trying to clean his jock and found . . . nothing. Paul was gone. So was Dai's shirt. - (Seth) Shit. It's like he just vanished. - You mean disappeared? Like your clothes? - I don't know. Maybe he put on Dai's shirt and went back. - He wouldn't do that, without us. . . . Seth. - Yeah? - It's his birthday. - You think that's significant? - I don't know. Our birthdays were all on that manifest. But I don't think he vanished into thin air. I think he went to find that blue dodecagon, and waited until he was alone to sneak away. He knew you wouldn't let him go. - And rightfully so. Those things are dangerous – one turned Cody into Ray, this one made him strip naked. - Well, who knows, it might be helpful. I don't know what more harm it could do to him than it already has. - Yes, that's exactly right. You don't know. - That looks like footprints. I think he went downstream. Let me see if I can follow his trail. You wait here in case he comes back looking for us. I left Seth and followed the track of footprints. The footprints faded and I had to guess from trampled-down leaves where he might have gone. Until I heard something. Yelling. Paul's voice. And it sounded like he was yelling `fuck me!'. I hurried in the direction of Paul's voice until I saw, in a little valley below me, the blue dodecagon. Paul was hunched over toward one edge, bent over at the waist, his arms in a circle, as if embracing a column of air. His legs were spread far apart. And his body was jolting back and forth as if . . . well, as if he was being fucked. But there was no one fucking him. And then the blue dodecagon seemed to fall into the ground – and Paul with it. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER THIRTEEN – SOMETHING AMBER, SOMEONE BLUE]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-36	Date: Fri, 10 May 2024 19:16:17 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel <[email protected]> Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 36 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 – a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX: TRUST OR CONSEQUENCES Previously: * Vic, spurred on by Sean (and Ian), murders Al and buries him; he falsely reports that Al was curious to see a penis garden, thinking it safe because he wore a shirt. Stan finds Al's shirt by a penis garden (where Vic had planted it), and concludes that Al has been re-captured by Hamish. * The penis gardens were supposedly turned off, but, if one captured Al, they must be on. Seth hopes to use a penis garden to return underground and rescue Abe, but when he investigates, he finds it inactive. * Sean tells Ian that the remaining left-siders (Theo and Stan) must die; Ian asks to do in (Beta-)Stan himself, to make it less scary for Stan. * * * * * * * * WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 19 * * * * * * * * AT THE PHALLIC TOWER – SETH I dreamt about Abe. We were fighting over yogurt. He wanted me to have yogurt for breakfast and I wanted no part of it. He was saying, `come on, it's boysenberry', as if boysenberry was my favorite flavor. When I refused, he threw the yogurt at me, and I felt wetness on my neck. I woke up, aware of the weirdness of that dream – while Abe liked yogurt for breakfast, we'd never argued about it. I was also aware of wetness on my neck. Sean's tongue. - Come with me, Seth. It was so good last time, you need to feel me in you, I know you do. The word `need' was a bit strong, but I was more than willing. I felt his hot breath on my neck and in my ear. I thought of an old meme, `blow in my ear and I'll follow you anywhere', from some sixties-era TV show. Abe would know what it was. I did feel like following Sean anywhere. Or at least to the meadow. He took me in his arms, and kissed me. I kissed back, my cock growing hard at his touch. The old chemistry was back. I lay down on my stomach, and he pillaged my ass. It was ecstasy, and again made me reconsider the abandonment of bottoming that had followed my break-up with Sean. Spent, I turned over onto my back, reveling in the spectacle of the sky on a moonless night, more star-filled than was ever possible in the light-polluted skies of Cleveland. I didn't want to go back inside. Neither did Sean. - Something I wanted to tell you, Seth. I . . . wasn't completely honest with you the other night. - Continue. - I . . . I wanted to make you feel better about Abe. I told you he still loved you. - . . . I don't like where this is going, Sean. - Neither do I. But that wasn't the truth. The truth is – and I know this is going to be painful – but the truth is he was going to break up with you. - . . . - . . . - That doesn't make sense. He came with me to Aruba. He was happy about coming to Aruba. - When you told him about the trip, did he say `yes' right away? - No, he thought about it for a day. We had twenty-four hours to cancel the flight and – - In those twenty-four hours he called me, asking what he should do. I told him to go. He said he would use it to say good-bye, he didn't want to hurt you, but at the end of the trip, he was going to thank you for a good year and tell you he needed to move on. Talk about a blow to the solar plexus. I had thought the trip to Indiana two weeks prior had cemented our relationship – until he skipped that Pearl Jam concert. And he HAD taken almost a full day to agree to Aruba. But once in the air, he'd seemed eager for a sexy weekend at the beach. And he was convivial on the plane . . . at times. Then again he was buried in his kindle a lot of the time. And he didn't object to sitting across the aisle to me instead of next to me. Maybe there were signs, signs I didn't pick up. Or maybe this was a ploy Sean was using to drive a wedge between us. - He was ready to move on . . . to you, Sean? - Not necessarily. Abe was – Abe was just a fling. You're the only man I ever really connected with. You were always the one I wanted. Maybe I was with Abe just to get close to you again. - Vicarious fucking? - I suppose I deserved that. But, I don't know, maybe it was, in a way. Love is so complex, Seth. I felt so abandoned when you left. - I left because you kidnapped my sons. - No. You didn't know that then. You left because of Megan – and because you had to own up to being gay. . . . Dammit, Seth, I loved you, I truly did. I only did what I had to. God, if I could do anything to take back that moment, I would. I thought I could have it both ways. I could keep Stimulever happy, and you would choose me over Megan. Your marriage couldn't last, not for much longer anyway. I thought . . . I thought I could have it all. Instead I lost it all. - Lost it all? You kept your job. - I did. And if it had just been a case of losing my job or losing you, I would have chosen losing my job. But – these men are ruthless, Seth. They're killing people to make this project work. I was scared for my life. - You're sure about this. Abe was going to break up with me. - Hamish told Switzerland that Abe had found someone downstairs – your pilot, Barry. His exact words: `he's happy to be Barry's whore'. I was there when the message came in. A memory invaded my skull. Entering the Throne Room, finding Barry fucking an enthusiastic Jordan, who'd been switched with Abe to hide him from me. And what had Barry said? `This bitch is almost as good as the last one, and he loves it just as much'. Had Abe `loved it just as much' when Barry was putting it to him? Was he really planning to break up with me on this trip? It was hard to believe, but Sean seemed so sincere. FLASHBACK: ABE (CLEVELAND) – Wednesday, November 28 (this year) I had already decided to break it off with Sean – the trip to Indiana with Seth two weeks ago had clarified my thinking – and when he asked me over last Friday, the night of the Pearl Jam concert, I'd decided that that night was when I'd let him know. Instead, he seduced me with his charm and his cock, and I never summoned the nerve to say it. So far as Sean was concerned, we were still a thing – and that was my fault. And now Seth has asked me to go to Aruba – I know I'll say yes, but can't do it with a clean conscience until I make the break with Sean. Who, it seemed, didn't have a clue what my true feelings were. - So how about this Friday? Can we find another aging rock band we can send Seth off to? - I won't be here Friday. - Why? What do you mean? - I'm going to Aruba. - Aruba? That was rather sudden. - Saturday's my birthday. Seth wants to take me to Aruba to celebrate. - Oh. . . . Well, happy birthday. I guess. - Sean, it's - . . . We need to face facts. Sex with you is great, but it's time I got serious. I can't play around my whole life. Time to settle down. - . . . Settle down? - With Seth. - . . . Babe, this hurts. If you want to settle down, there are alternatives to Seth. You're talking to one. - You're hardly the settling-down type. You're always flying off to Switzerland or Minneapolis or somewhere. You probably have more lovers than Utah has Mormons. - Abe, do you love Seth? - Yeah. I think I do. I'm just realizing that. I haven't always been patient with him, but he does love me, Sean. You don't love me – we have fun together, but it's skin deep. - More like balls deep. - That's not enough. Seth's a good man, he's troubled, but he's a good man. Indiana proved that. And he loves me. I've got to give it a shot. This weekend is a chance for us to rekindle the relationship, light the spark – a honeymoon without the marriage. Who knows, maybe the marriage will come later, but I've got to give you up so I can focus on him. - . . . I understand. THE PHALLIC TOWER – SEAN Seth was shocked. I did that rather well, I thought. The right mix of emotional honesty and blatant falsehoods. All the stuff about my love for Seth was honest. All the stuff about Abe was bollocks. Abe was never going to break up with Seth. Cryptic reference to his trip to Indiana – I knew it had happened, of course, but not what went on there. I suppose Abe would have told me if I'd asked. But I'd needed to distance myself from Abe, so I kept mum on the subject. Ultimately, if I were ever to get Seth back, I had to convince him of my love. And I had to eliminate the competition. Once Abe was out of the picture – accompanied by my own well-polished crocodile tears – I would be the port in the storm he sailed into. THE PHALLIC TOWER – STAN Ian and I slept on adjacent wedges of the dodecagon inside the tower. While there was room for us to be separate, he gravitated toward me; we spent most nights with our bodies touching. It was a nice feeling. I woke up in the middle of the night, hearing whispering, and aware of movement. A brief infusion of dull light spilled into the room as the door opened and two figures passed through it. By the size of his silhouette, one was either Seth or Vic, and Vic was snoring, so it had to be Seth. I sat up, which woke Ian. - You okay, Stan? - Seth just went outside with somebody. - Probably Sean. I imagine they wanted some privacy. . . . Do you want some privacy? - What do you mean? - We haven't had sex since leaving Hamishland. If they can do it, why not us? The touch of his body had made me `interested', and I rapidly endorsed his proposal. We tiptoed our way around sleeping bodies and slipped outside. I heard Seth and Sean behind the tower, so Ian and I went down the meadow a ways, far enough to not be visible on a night lit only by stars, but staying in a grassy area where we could be comfortable making love. Underground, getting fucked had been painful at first, particularly with the more impersonal lieutenants, but with Ian – once he developed a fondness for me – it turned into something tender. It was a level of satisfaction I had never experienced in bed with Magda, making me wonder how I had gotten to the ripe old age of twenty-two without knowing that I was not purely heterosexual. I rose to return to the tower before anyone realized we were gone, but Ian stopped me. - In the morning, go for a wash with me. - I need one now; your scent is all over me. - No, I'm serious. You have to disappear, Stan. - What are you talking about? - Sean says you have to die for this Project thing to succeed. You, Al, and Theo. All of you. - What? - And he got lucky because Al got captured by a penis garden. - They'll kill him down there – is that what you're saying? - I'm afraid so. Nothing we can do to stop that. Sean said he would take care of Theo and he wanted me to do you. - Ian, no. I mean, I know my Alpha-life is supposed to still continue, but that's like some other person. I'm THIS me, I don't want to die. - I don't want you to die. I'll lie to Sean. I'll tell everyone that you wandered into a penis garden, and tell Sean that I've really killed you, and the penis garden is my cover story. - Seth says the penis garden was turned off. - Exactly. You wanted to investigate it, see if there were more clues about Al's disappearance, and you thought it was safe because Seth said it was turned off. And then – surprise – it got you. As I watched in horror. Seth will be dubious, probably, but there's so much here that's unexplainable, this will just be one more mystery to solve – why did it take Al and you but not him? Meanwhile, you'll be hiding; so far as Stimulever is concerned, you're dead and the Project can proceed. - You want me to just be out there on my own? - You know where the grove of papaya and banana trees is, on the west side? - Yeah. - Go to the beach near there and then go north a mile or so. No one ever goes that far. You'll be within walking distance of food – there are even some coconut trees nearby. - I'm within walking distance of a place guys here go for food. Ian, they might find me. - Go just after dawn or at dusk, when there won't be any food-gathering missions. Stay out of the way. Worst case scenario, if someone spots you, tell them the truth – only keep it from Sean. - I'll miss you, Ian. - Maybe I can get away occasionally. It's about an hour's walk from here. I'd have to invent an excuse for being gone that long. - For a conjugal visit? - Would you like another one now? - I would. We did. It started to rain mid-copulation, but I didn't care. It wasn't about to interrupt either of us, and afterwards the two of us just lay there and let the rain pelt down on our naked bodies. The water pelting my bare skin was glorious, and the two of us drank in the experience, not caring that we'd have to go back to the tower dripping, leaving tell-tale signs of our expedition on the tower floor. THE PHALLIC TOWER – VIC Ian and Stan had volunteered to go on a water mission, and Stan had mentioned a desire to return to the penis garden where Al had supposedly disappeared. I don't know what he was expecting to find; he'd already found Al's shirt there – there wouldn't be other clues. Stan was pretty torn up about Al's disappearance, but he seemed to be finding some kind of solace by being with Ian. I had noticed them sneaking out in the middle of the night. I guess sex was becoming harder and harder to resist on this island. I admired Jasper for having resisted so long, when he was some kind of sex addict even before coming here. Of course, Jasper had agreed on Monday to be Seth's sex-mate. As Seth had gone back to Tim yesterday for a second time, it appeared he was limiting his choices to the two of them. It was time to step up. - Seth, I'll be your bottom today. - Vic, really? You're volunteering? - I know you don't want to ask Augie or whatever version of Gary wants to come out today. I don't bottom, but – it only seems fair. - Vic, it's your birthday. You know what that means. - I'll be with you. We'll stick together. I'll be safe. He looked dubious, but it was clear he was reluctant to go back to Tim a third time, and something had happened with Jasper on Monday that made me think he didn't want to drink from that well either. So off we went to the woods. Yes, I would take his enormous cock up my ass, which wouldn't be pleasant. But I had another agenda. THE PHALLIC TOWER – SEAN Ian and Stan had gone off `on a water mission'. Ian came back alone. Had he done the deed? It was time to find out. - Show me where you buried him. - I didn't bury him. - You left him out in the open to rot? - Not that either. - So he's still alive. Good job, Ian. Good fucking job. - Sean, listen to me. It's all right. Let me explain. - You better have a good explanation. - I do. You know how upset Stan was about Al's disappearance. - Yeah. - He wanted to go out there. To the penis garden where he found Al's shirt. - Al was not captured by a penis garden. Vic killed him. - You and I know that, but Stan doesn't. He wanted to see if there were any more clues to Al's capture. He'd been reluctant to go back because he was afraid of capture. But after Seth came back last night and said it was inactive, he figured it was safe. - Go on. - And so he went onto it and touched the phallus. - And - ? - It was active. Dildos started springing up while he was over by the phallus and before he could get back to safety it speared him up the ass and took him under. - Impossible. The penis portals have been turned off. Seth verified it. - That's what Stan thought. But either Seth made a mistake or was lying – or they're back on again. - Why would they be back on? - Maybe in hopes of re-capturing one of the escapees. Maybe they turned it off just for Seth. Do they have a way of knowing that it's him and not someone else? - No. They can sense a presence but not who it is. - Then I don't know. All I know is that it was on this morning. I didn't even have the chance to have `the talk' with him. - You're sure he's underground. - One hundred percent sure. I was eighty percent sure that he was lying. But there was a way to find out. All I had to do was ask Hamish if there'd been any new arrivals. Time to dig my phone out from its burial place. THE PHALLIC TOWER – IAN I was far from sure he had bought my story. But Sean couldn't contact Stimulever from the surface. He carried no phone with him, and – dressed only in socks and briefs – couldn't exactly conceal one in his clothes. In short, he couldn't prove I was lying unless he went underground – if that was even possible. He wouldn't take that risk – his departure would severely damage his credibility. Not to mention that he'd be leaving behind unfinished business – Theo. So I couldn't imagine him leaving us to verify Stan's arrival with Hamish. I had to hope Stan stayed safe in his hiding place. THE WOODS - VIC I just lay there. Seth was inside me, and I just lay there. From time to time, he would ask if I was okay. I wasn't responding; I was neither making it easy for him nor resisting. I wasn't even grunting with his thrusts. He kept asking if he was hurting me too much – knowing he was hurting me some – and I said no, it was fine. The truth was, I didn't care. I wanted it to hurt. I needed to be punished. However I thought of myself for the rest of my life – however long or short that might be – I could never look past the fact that I had snuffed the life out of a fellow human being. A human being in an alternate universe that had a life-expectancy of two weeks – but that was irrelevant. The question was – what kind of a man would allow himself to do something like that – in the name of love? The kind of man who deserved to be sodomized for pain and not for pleasure. And so I knew what I had to do. It was my birthday. The dodecagon was calling me, somewhere. If I let it capture me, maybe there would be a way, once I arrived underground, of saving Miles. If not, then at least I could be with Miles. I could see for myself that what Al had said was a lie, that Miles did still truly love me, and if we had to go out together in a blaze of glory, then at least we'd be together. And if Al was right and Miles no longer loved me, then I would have the punishment I deserved. Repeatedly raped, something I would never inflict on anyone against their will – and that included me. Seth pumped away at my ass until he spilled his load into it, then pulled himself off me and apologized for having to do this. No, no, it's okay, I insisted – and it was. And it wasn't. Nothing was okay. I had one more unethical thing to do today. When I had recovered sufficiently, as Seth was on his way to clean off in the stream, I picked up a rock and struck him on the back of his head, rendering him unconscious. He was just unconscious, right? Yes, still breathing. He might have a large lump on his head, but he'd be fine once he woke up. I had no idea how long he would be out, so I had to move quickly. There was a teal dodecagon out there somewhere with my name on it. I had every confidence that, it being my birthday, I would manage to find it, wherever I went. And so I went in the direction of my greatest sin – where I had buried Al. I knew it would be there somewhere along the path. And that it would show me the image of an ox – my Chinese year symbol – before swallowing me and taking me underground – and to Miles. NEAR THE PHALLIC TOWER – SEAN I dug up my phone and called Hamish. - Sean? Is everything okay? You were only supposed to contact me in case of something urgent. - It might be urgent, Hamish. It might affect the physics. Has anyone arrived downstairs? - No, Torrance hasn't arrived yet. - I'm not asking about Torrance. I'm asking about Kowalczyk. - Kowalczyk? The one Ian had the hots for? You're sending him back down? You're supposed to terminate him. - Yeah, Ian said he would do it – wanted it to come from a friend, it would be easier. But then he said that a penis garden – that's what they call the penis portals up here – had taken him. - The penis portals are all closed. - Bottom line – you don't have Kowalczyk. - No, Kowalczyk isn't here. - Then Ian was lying. - Or mistaken. - Not mistaken. Lying. This was a problem. THE WOODS – SETH I could have seen it coming. Vic had not been himself ever since losing Miles over a week ago. And he seemed to blame himself for letting Al go off by himself – although that story still didn't seem right to me. How could Al have been captured by a penis garden if I – fully nude and staring straight at it – had been able to prance around on it harmlessly, immune to its charms? The only plausible explanation I could find was that they had switched the penis garden off after Al's capture had made them realize it was still on. Or had Vic been lying? Maybe Al had run off and was hiding somewhere? But why would Vic lie about that? Al and Vic were not exactly buddy-buddy. I could see Stan protecting Al, but Vic? And that wouldn't account for the fact that Vic had looked especially downtrodden over the course of the last twenty-four hours. No, Vic was depressed – would he have been if he had helped Al escape? Whatever was the case, I knew where Vic had gone – like Harry, in his depressed state, he had welcomed capture by his dodecagon. Maybe he thought it would advance The Project, and spare him from a future year of misery. Maybe he just wanted to be where Miles was. It had rained last night – the first drops occurring just as Sean and I were heading back to the tower after our coupling – and I saw fresh footprints heading off to the northwest. Large ones, surely Vic's. It was probably too late to save him, but I had to try. I wasn't moving that fast, my head still spinning a bit – I probably had a concussion – but the trail was easy to follow. I was sure that at some point it would come to a sudden end – and that would be where the dodecagon made itself known. That was what happened. When the footprints stopped, there was a nearby area which had seemingly been pushed up by the appearance of the dodecagon. There was a large branch, somewhat akilter, but the ground beneath was full of loose dirt, as if someone had been digging there. I picked up the branch, and poked away at the dirt, then scraped it away with my hands. And then I saw a foot. THE PHALLIC TOWER – SETH I never missed Harry more than I did on that walk back to the tower. I needed someone to share this information with, someone whose judgment I could trust. Was it Sean? Ian? Jasper? Tim? The moment I arrived, Sean came trotting up to me and pulled me aside, eager to share HIS news. - Ian lied to us. - Lied to us, how? - He told me Stan had been captured by the penis garden. He wasn't. He didn't arrive underground. - How do you know? I thought you couldn't contact them. - Well . . . maybe I can. - Ah, so Ian is not the only liar in the group. - Look, my goal is to bring about the best results for everyone. Including you. Especially you, Seth. I didn't trust Ian, and I couldn't tell him one thing and everyone else another thing. - I think you could have trusted me to keep it confidential. But your little Liars Club has a third member. - Explain. - Vic. Al wasn't captured by the penis garden either. - I told you they were all shut down after you escaped. - Evidently it was. I found Al. - Where is he? - Under a mound of dirt about five minutes from the bathing site. - Under a mound of – - He's dead, Sean. Vic must have killed him. - Why would Vic kill him? - Why, indeed? Someone must have persuaded him it was in his best interests. - Did you ask Vic? - I'm guessing you know why I didn't. - I don't. - He followed Harry's lead and gave himself up. I think he's going after Miles. And I think Sean knew that. And I think Sean was responsible. And I wish I knew who the hell I could trust. Harry, damn it, why did you have to be so foolish? I need you. THE PHALLIC TOWER – SEAN That didn't go well. Seth had uncovered the truth about Al. The only saving grace was that Vic was no longer here to tell Seth that Ian and I had put him up to it. But I'm good at reading faces, and Seth's face was full of mistrust. Mistrust of me. My plan to recapture his love had hit a roadblock. I doubted my ability to convince him that Abe no longer loved him, though perhaps when he returned underground, events could play out that supported that contention. Alternatively, if Seth and Abe returned to Alphaworld, in love with each other, Abe would have to be removed from the scene. That could be arranged. I'd speak to Ari. If Abe were to encounter a mishap, and I swooped in as comforter-in-chief, Seth might just fall into my arms again. If he didn't, kidnapping was always a possibility. He would resent that, of course, but Stockholm Syndrome would kick in eventually. Given time, he would love me. He would have no choice. One way or the other, I'm going to have you, Seth Herrick. And you'll fall back in love with me, and the two of us will live happily ever after. Provided he has no idea of what I'm really planning. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN – MANIPULASEANS]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-4	Date: Fri, 2 Feb 2024 20:15:46 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 4 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER FOUR: THIS IS NOT A LIGHTHOUSE Previously (in preceding chapter unless noted): * Seth, Harry, Ed, and Augie, en route to the lighthouse, find a fifth survivor, Cody. Cody, however, seems to think he's a cattle rancher in Texas. Augie recognizes him as the man asked to move from the left side to the right � and that the flight attendant had called him "Mr. Onslow". Cody shows the group a map which appears to show the location of the twelve Federal Reserve Banks. * The passengers on the left side of the plane find that they have landed gently on the ocean and are able to reach the shore. Stan Kowalczyk, whose seat was switched with Cody's by the flight attendant (Percy), meets a young clerk (Al Casey) � and Seth's boyfriend Abe Derisian. * Barry, the pilot, had flown the plane under a threat from a self-described magician named Hamish DiSalvo. After the plane breaks apart, Barry finds himself in an underground building with Hamish. Barry is a professional dom, but Hamish tells him he will be his `boy', and orders him to strip. (Ch. 2) * The religiously conservative Augie is unaware that his `girlfriend' Jordan is actually male; Jordan plans to have `the operation' at some point before they are married and never tell the na�ve Augie of his birth gender. Waiting in Aruba for Augie to arrive, Jordan and sister Jen learn that Flight 12 has disappeared from radar screens without explanation. * In a flashback, Seth meets Abe for the first time at a gay bar, which leads to oral sex at Seth's apartment. They make a second date for the following Saturday. (Ch. 2) FLASHBACK: ABE (CLEVELAND) � November 24, a year ago Should I come back on Saturday night? "Bring your anus", he said. Funny, too. But do I really want to connect with this guy? He might be as sexy as Armie Hammer, but did I want to play Timoth�e Chalamet to him? He had the look of someone who wanted a serious commitment. Still a week shy of my twenty-fourth birthday, I wasn't ready for that yet � although maybe I should be. I went back Saturday night. He greeted me wearing a leather jockstrap. So much for subtlety. Maybe he was as superficial as I was. Maybe he just wanted a two-night stand. Or maybe he wanted a three-month stand, and then things would get ugly when we started to realize we had nothing going for us except sex. Well, there are worse things to have going for you. And man, was he hot. I smiled. He smiled back. - Am I overdressed? - You won't be for long. He grabbed my arm and pulled me into the apartment, reaching around me and pressing his mouth against mine. His tongue plunged deep into my mouth, and we explored each other's oral cavities for a solid three minutes. - Okay, now you're overdressed. - No gin-and-tipsy? - I don't think you need to be tipsy. Time to get naked, boy. Boy? Was he doing a dom thing? That could be a turn-on, but I didn't like surprises. Time to send those signals, without pissing him off. - (flirtatiously) I'm not your boy. - Yet. - I'm willing to be your conquest-du-jour, however. Or is that `conquest-de-la-nuit'? - Are you going to stand there speaking pseudo-French or are you going to get naked? - Getting naked. (Pause � in a way that said the exact opposite) Sir. - `Sir'. I like that. - I was being sarcastic. - I like that, too. You still seem to have clothes on. - Well, you know, clothes. They don't come off by themselves. - Would you like help with that? - (Grin) Yes. Help me with that. Boy. And thus (I thought) I managed to convey that I was willing to let him take charge without going too far into any kind of dom/sub role-play. He put his hands on my top button and slowly, lovingly, passed the button through the hole, then moved on to the next one, slipping his hands inside my shirt to caress my hairy chest and pinch my nipples. - This would have been faster if you'd worn a pull-over shirt. - Maybe, but it's more fun this way. He worked his way down, using his mouth to free the lowest buttons and, once he'd fully opened up the gap, licked the lint out of my navel. His strong hands moved to my shoulders as he tugged down the shirt sleeves slowly down my arms, making me tingle with excitement as the fabric eased over my skin. I slipped off my shoes and socks effortlessly, as Seth, wasting no time, ripped the belt buckle open, yanked it free of the loops in my jeans, and dangled it in front of my face. - We could have fun with this later. I didn't like the implications of that, and was relieved when he dropped the belt on the couch and left it. He grabbed my hips and ,in one smooth motion, slid my jeans and shorts down to my ankles. I stepped out of them, now completely nude, as he stuck his hand over my groin and grabbed my balls. - Avec moi. - Now who's speaking French? - No French tonight, young man. Greek. His hand firmly gripping my nuts, he walked toward his bedroom. I had no choice but to follow. I guess I could have tried to remove his brawny hand, but I rather liked the rough feel of it around my testicles. - You want to do this, right? - I'm here. I brought my anus. Do your thing. - My thing coming up. Let's get you on your back, I want to see your face. I clambered on the bed. I was hard in anticipation of that ample-sized cock that I desperately wanted to feel inside of me. He slid the drawer of his nightstand open, to get lubricant and, I hoped, a condom. I watched to make sure of the condom � I would insist on one if he didn't do it instinctively. He produced the lubricant. He produced the condom. He also produced two other items: a blindfold and a pair of handcuffs. I blanched at the latter. - Oh, no. - (demonic smile) Oh, yes. I got up. - No, sorry, can't do this. Not this way. Not handcuffs. He intercepted me and grabbed me by the waist. Before I knew it, I was back on the bed. - You told me to do my thing. This is my thing. - Yeah, well it's not mine. - Have you ever been fucked in handcuffs? Fucked? No. But it evoked a memory I wasn't about to reveal on a second date. I'll stick to the literal truth. - No. - Then how do you know it's not your thing? - I . . . - You don't. - Valid point. But here's another valid point. `No' means no. - Except when your body says it means `yes'. With that, he took the handcuffs and snapped them around my right wrist before I even realized it. He was not only bigger than me, he was stronger, and heavier. Which, when he was lying directly on top of me, meant I could not get out from under him. And the other half of the handcuffs was attached to the bedpost. I was now trapped. - I think we should have a little symmetry, don't you? And reached into the nightstand to pull out a second pair of handcuffs. - If you do this, it will be rape. - I have the feeling you want that. - You met me Tuesday night; what the fuck do you know about what I'm feeling? - Your cock is showing me. Well, he was right in that respect. It was standing straight up. And then the inevitable occurred. The second set of cuffs attached my left hand to the other bedpost and I was helpless. He climbed over me, slipped the blindfold around my head, pushed my legs back over my shoulders, and lubed up my hole. And then he invaded it, pushing himself inside me full force. He was raping me, and he was enjoying it. And, dammit, so was my ass; my cock displayed its approval throughout. But while my body was thrilled with the experience, my mind was not. After he unloaded into his condom, he lowered his mouth to my erect cock and worked it for a solid ten minutes before I tensed, knowing that I was about to shoot. He picked up on that, pulled his mouth off my cock and stroked me to orgasm, which spewed all over my stomach and abdomen. He got up and left, returning moments later with a pair of wet washcloths, one of which he applied to himself, and the other with which he cleaned off my gism from my own body. - Want to shower together? - No. - Up to you. I'm heading there now. He released me and put the handcuffs back into his nightstand. I grabbed the washcloth, cleaned myself further, and, to the sound of the shower, headed back to the living room, dressed, and left. One thing was for sure. I was never going to see this asshole again. * * * * * * * * SATURDAY, DECEMBER 1 * * * * * * * * "THE THRONE ROOM" (HAMISH'S UNDERGROUND LIVING QUARTERS) � BARRY - Well, Barry, don't you look enticing. - Why are you doing this to me? I did what you asked. I flew the damn plane. You didn't tell me you were going to destroy it. - Did I? - If you didn't, who did? - Does it matter? It brought you here, didn't it? It brought you here so you could be my boy. - You made the plane break apart so that I could be your boy? - That would be some magic, wouldn't it? - That would be perverted. - (smile) Welcome to Hamishland, Barry. It's all perverted. But, in answer to your question, that was not the main reason I made you fly that plane. - Then what was? - (another smile) Let's just say it's part of a bigger plan. - Fuck you. - Well, no, Barry, fuck you. Literally. I'm going to take you to one of our Fuck Rooms. But it won't be me who will be fucking you, not today anyway. - You . . . you are going to use lube, aren't you? - (laughing) Now where would I get lube on an isolated island in the Caribbean? At the local Walgreen's? THE BEACH (WEST COAST) � STAN The three of us huddled together, forming a sort of triangle where we could use each other as pillows. Al's pillow was the small of Abe's back. Mine was Al's legs. Abe, however, chose my most pillow-like feature to rest his head on. I hoped my jeans would be enough protection for him if I farted during the night. When I awoke, my head was on sand. I must have slipped off Al's legs in the middle of the night. But then I no longer felt Abe's head on my butt. And when I opened my eyes, they were gone. Both of them. In fact, everyone from the plane was gone. I was completely alone. And, unless I was crazy, this didn't look like the same beach where we'd landed. My mouth felt weird, like there was a piece of food stuck in it, although we hadn't eaten since Santo Domingo. I swallowed and whatever it was disappeared down my throat. It was only then that I noticed I was naked. THE BEACH (EAST COAST) - HARRY Rewind: I was going on vacation to Aruba, staying at a gay-friendly resort, hoping to somehow overcome my fear of rejection and find someone I could connect with, someone who wouldn't laugh at me because I was a chub. And now I was on an island with three homophobes: Ed spoke disparagingly of his gay son. Augie was offended at the sight of a nude male. Cody looked at Seth with disgust when he mentioned his boyfriend. Worse, the one man who was not a homophobe was someone who rang my chimes, the really hot guy I'd met in the airport in the Turks and Caicos. Who was understandably obsessed with finding his boyfriend � whom we both knew was almost certainly dead. I wanted to help him, and I wanted him to put his arms around me and hug me. I wanted him to put his rough hands on my shirt and slowly take it off and lovingly trace his fingers over my chest. I wanted him to reach behind me and massage my butt like it was the lovely butt that it wasn't. He will never do that. He will never pay me any attention. I can look at this fine, fine man and dream. And that's all it will be � a dream. Honestly, that's all it should be. Seth has just lost someone he cares about deeply. We don't know for sure that Abe is dead, but he's missing. And Seth is hurting. He's trying not to let it show. I think he's a natural leader, and he's going to lead us to that lighthouse. When we get off this island, it's going to be because of him. I have to figure out my role in this. I don't have physical strength, or stamina, or courage, all of which we needed collectively. What can I do to contribute to the group effort? My only asset is my brain. I have to try to figure out the puzzle. Two puzzles, linked. How did we survive the fall? And where are we? There were clues, but I didn't know how to interpret them. THE PLAQUE. What was it doing here? The Federal Reserve Bank had no jurisdiction in the Caribbean. And something about that map freaked me out � I knew what it was, but the implications were just too bizarre to believe. THE DOME. I wasn't convinced it was a lighthouse. The dome shape, though unclear, was unlike anything I'd ever seen in a lighthouse. And maybe the bright colors were a cultural thing, but I wasn't convinced. They were important � somehow. THE TIME GAP. The plane fell from the sky in the dark, nine o'clock at night. All of us awoke at virtually the same time, in sunshine, the next morning. SETH'S CLOTHES. I was convinced that this was key. The rest of us woke up in the same clothes we had been wearing on the plane. Seth woke up naked, with no trace of his clothing anywhere. Why him and not anyone else? That had to be significant. He was singled out, different in some way, more important. As we proceeded north along the beach, we found another survivor. And, oh my God, he was gorgeous. A tall, Black hunk in a muscle shirt and a tattooed body to die for. Doubtless he would prove to be a homophobe, too. - (Black hunk, running toward us) Hey! - Hey. - (Black hunk) Omigod, so glad to see you guys. I thought I was the only . . . (to Seth) You're a little underdressed. Did something happen? - (Seth) Yeah, kinda. - He sent his clothes out to be dry-cleaned. - (Seth) I'll explain on the way. - (Black hunk) On the way? - To whatever that dome is. We took a few minutes introducing ourselves and sharing our stories and our confusion. Cody remained quiet, just said his name, with no mention of his herd or Texas. And no mention of the mysterious plaque. There would be time to hash that out later. Black hunk's name was Vic Torrance, and he was � are you shocked? � a physical trainer. A resort in Aruba had just hired him to work with their clients; his lover Miles had flown down earlier. The money was comparable to his current job, the cost of living lower, and he couldn't deny the superiority of the weather. - (Ed) Compared to where? - Minneapolis. Shit. Minneapolis. Another Federal Reserve Bank city. THE BEACH � SETH So now there were six of us. Ironically, the latest addition was Abe's heartthrob � the well-built Black guy he had admired in the airport. The one I had joked about buying for his birthday. Which was today. Thud. Harry said he wanted to talk. We walked a few yards behind the others. - (Harry) I'm beginning to think maybe we ARE dead. - Why is that? - That map. It can't have anything to do with Federal Reserve Banks. It's about us. - How can it be about us? - You're from Cleveland, I'm from Philly, Augie's from Dallas, Ed's English but lives in Boston, he told me his son Leo's in Atlanta, Vic's from Minneapolis. On the plane, I heard this Asian guy say he was from San Francisco. Every single one of those cities was on that map. The only exception is Cody � and who knows where he's really from � I doubt it's Texas. - Meaning? - What if that map is about us? What if those cities are on the map because we're from those cities? - Harry, you're not making sense. - It does if we're not in the real world anymore. Like we're in Oz, only with a disintegrating plane instead of a tornado. - We're not in Oz. - No. . . . I think this is an afterlife created just for us. - Harry, there were two dozen people on the plane, they can't all be from those twelve cities. - So just the twelve on our side, then. - We've only found six of those twelve. - I'm convinced the others are around here somewhere, probably looking for us. - The Asian guy's from San Francisco, Leo's from Atlanta. What are the other cities? - Chicago, New York, St. Louis, Kansas City and Richmond. - Well, if we find the others and it turns out that they � and Cody � are from those five cities: then maybe I'll give your theory some thought. Otherwise . . . we need to catch up to the others. - Right. Follow the yellow brick beach. We soon reached the point where we needed to leave the beach and turn inland toward the lighthouse. (I will hold on to that lighthouse theory, because I am determined to get off this island.) Then something happened which convinced me that we WERE dead � or in some space existing only within the confines of my brain. It was just too bizarre to be real. We entered the woods. It didn't take long till we saw something bright on the forest floor. When we approached, we saw that it was a large yellow shape like a disc, maybe a dozen feet across. Only it was not round, it had straight sides around the edge, like a stop sign with twelve sides, not eight. A twelve-sided figure was called a dodecagon, if I remember correctly from high-school geometry. On closer examination, it appeared to be a single piece of polished granite � if granite was bright yellow. Upon seeing it, Cody went berserk. He suddenly sprang forward and fell face down, flinging himself across the polygon, as if to embrace it. He shuddered, and then grew very calm. And then he rose to his feet. A hard look came over his eye, and he broke into a grin. I had never seen Cody even smile, but there was something alarming about this grin. It was full of swagger, like that of a movie villain about to execute James Bond. He stood, looking at the rest of us, then lowered his hand to his waist, unzipped, and pulled out his cock. - Okay, which of you bitches is going to blow me? FLASHBACK � CODY (KANSAS CITY) � June, this year - Shit, what am I doing here? I really need to get back to the ranch. - You don't have a ranch, Gary. - Don't do that. Don't call me that. - It's your name. - No, it's fucking not. It's HIS name. - It's the one on your driver's license. - A person has to drive, right? I ain't never taken no driver's test. I don't need to. Right? I mean I know how to fucking drive. If I know how to fucking drive, and I have a piece of paper that says I can drive, who cares who it belongs to. - It has Gary's name on it. - Yeah, he gave it to me, okay? He's a wimp, he'll do anything. He lets Ray use it, too. - Why do you think it's Gary who has the driver's license? - Because he's a wimp, like I said. Do I have time to take a fucking driver's test? I have a ranch to manage. Ray's got his painting jobs. Gary wants to waste his time with that shit, let him. - Where's your ranch, Cody? - You know where my ranch is. - It's not in Missouri, is it? - What kind of ranch would be in Missouri? - We're in Missouri now. A long way from Texas. - I must drive pretty fast because it don't take me that long to get there. - Cody? - Yeah? - Could I speak to Gary? - Why do you want to speak to that loser? - If you don't mind. - Listen, I don't get enough time as it is. I'm here now, can't I stay? - If he's as much of a wimp as you say, he'll let you back. - . . . Yeah, okay. A long pause. - (grin) Hey there, sexy. - Gary? - Guess again. - Ray. - Bingo. Gary wasn't home. I am. You're looking very pretty today. - Pretty is an odd word to use to a man, don't you think? Most would say `handsome'. - Yeah, well you're pretty to me. I bet your ass is pretty, why don't you show it to me? - Do you think you can seduce me, Ray? - Oh, I could seduce you. I could have you twirling on top of my cock in two minutes if I could get you out of this office. Don't you want a taste of my big boy? - I think we should end this. I promised Cody he could have the rest of the hour after I was done with Gary. - Ah, doc, you're such a spoilsport. Cody doesn't know what he's doing. You know he doesn't have a sex life at all. I'd think maybe he was fucking his cattle, but I don't think his cattle even exist, except in his own mind. But you, doc. You'd be worth fucking. Tell you what, doc. One of these times instead of talking, let's fuck. What do you think about that? - . . . I think I want to talk to Cody. - (grin) Yeah, you're yellow, aren't you, doc? Scared of my big fat prick. But we both know you want it squirting my love juice up your back door. - Goodbye, Ray. - Think about it, doc. My dick, your ass � made for each other. THE WOODS � AUGIE I stared at Cody and then had to look away. Visions of Alfonso flooded my brain. It had been bad enough looking at Seth when he was naked, but at least he was flaccid. This was a shock � the first male erection I had seen since that moment five years ago when I had taken Alfonso into my mouth. The moment of my great sin. Ed went ballistic. - Jesus Bloody Christ! You fucking pervert! Put that thing back in your pants. What's wrong with you? Cody just grinned and stroked his cock. - Well, I guess it won't be you, Brit boy. You're not my type, anyway. Too old. You, on the other hand � you'd be perfect. I realized with horror that he was addressing that last sentence to me. - Yeah, I saw you look away. We all know why you looked away. Because you want it so bad. Get down on your knees, boy, and suck my dick. I saw Harry and Seth exchange glances. The Black guy was staring at him with something like fascination � jeez, maybe he was another queer. - Cat got your tongue, boy? Or is it because you can't get past the image of your tongue being wrapped around this baby? - (Seth, calmly) Cody, that's enough. I think you know that no one is going to suck your dick. - Why not? You're gay. The boy here is gay, even though he pretends like he's not. The big Black dude looks like he's ready to chomp down on this. Who knows, maybe even Lardo here is hungering for my dick. - (Seth) Yes, I'm gay, and whether or not anyone else is � that's their own business. But right now, we're on our way to the lighthouse. This gentleman needs to find his son. I need to find my boyfriend. And we all need to find a way off this island. If you want to try to seduce one of us later, go ahead. But now is not the time. - (Vic) Or a very effective approach. - (Cody) Oh, so other approaches are possible, eh? Meet me later, dude. - (Seth) Cody, if you please. Tuck it in. - (Cody) I'll tuck it in. For now. (to me) But I'll show it to you later, when we're alone. (to Seth) But just for the record, I'm not Cody Benson. - (Harry) Are you Ray or Gary Onslow? - (Cody) Pfff. Do I look like fucking Gary? I'm Ray. - (Harry) Where are you from, Ray? - (Ray) Missouri. Kansas City, Missouri. Harry and Seth exchanged looks. I couldn't figure out what that was about. A few minutes later, there was another startling discovery: wreckage from the plane! We could see part of a wing, a bank of seats, and a bit of the tail � with the big letter Z that was the logo of ZTA. Were these our seats? Yes, it looked like the right half of the plane, behind the cockpit. - (Harry) Hold on, guys. This is not our plane. - (Ed) What are you talking about? It's ZTA. - (Harry) These seats. They're gray. Ours were blue. - (Ed) Are you saying ZTA crashed on this island TWICE? - Are you sure ours were blue? Maybe they were gray and you forgot. - (Seth) No, they were blue. He's right. I distinctly remember that. Harry approached the bank of seats, which thankfully bore no evidence of corpses, recent or decayed. He reached into one of the seat backs and pulled out a small rectangular card � a boarding pass. - (Harry) This is dated December, two years ago. ZTA Flight 4 from Panama City to Guadeloupe. Passenger's name is Patrick Mayer. - (Ray) Jesus Fucking Christ. This has to be the world's worst airline. The airline that had taken my girlfriend to Aruba. Now I had to worry that she'd even gotten there. QUEEN BEATRIX AIRPORT, ORANJESTAD, ARUBA � JORDAN We stayed in the VIP lounge for nearly an hour, awaiting the news. The ZTA representative picked up the phone a couple of times, and listened, said "Uh, huh" a couple of times, and then hung up. He smiled at us and shook his head in a way that said, "No, we don't know yet." Then after about twenty minutes, he left the lounge. A young woman with pink hair shouted questions at him but he ignored her like a scandal-ridden senator evading the press. We waited for him to come back � or anyone to come talk to us � but after another half hour we gave up. I had gotten over my crying. I was past crying. I was hopping mad. Jen had suggested we have a drink, as she thought we both needed one. Before I knew it, we had repaired to the nearest bar, a stiff martini in my hand. - He's dead, Jen. It's all my fault. - How is it your fault? - If I'd told him before the trip, he wouldn't have gone. And then he wouldn't be dead. - We don't know what happened. He may still be alive. - Planes don't just disappear from radar. If it were a communications failure, we'd have gotten some news by now. Who the hell ever heard of ZTA, anyway? Have you ever heard of them? - No, but there's lots of little airlines I never heard of. - I'm going to sue them, Jen. I'm going to sue them for everything they've got. - (a male voice nearby) I'll join you. I looked up, startled. A guy, nursing a scotch at the next table, was looking at us. He was in his twenties, about five-five, quite good-looking, with coal-black skin and mini-dreads that only went down to his neck. - (the guy) I'm sorry. I couldn't help but overhear. My partner was on that plane. - Oh, I'm so sorry. - Yeah, so am I. (extending a hand) Miles King. - Jordan Murdock. This is my sister Jen. My boyfriend Augie's on Flight 12. - So I gathered. My boyfriend, too. - (Jen, smiling) Oh, that kind of partner. I wanted to kick her. - You weren't on the plane from Miami, were you? They weren't letting young men � - I flew down separately two days ago. I had some business to attend to. - What kind of business? - Oh, just business. You know. - So, Miles, know anything about this ZTA? - Never heard of them. - We need to find out who's on their board of directors. - Right. He had a laptop. A couple of minutes later, he'd connected with the airport wi-fi and was searching. - (Miles) . . . Oh, that's strange. Google never heard of them. `ZTA' produces lots of links to Zeta Tau Alpha fraternity, and a few for something called Zero Trust Architecture, but no airlines. - Try Zen Tropical Airways. - (Miles) . . . No, nothing. There are a couple of things for Zen, but they're cargo-related and clearly distinct from Zen Tropical. ZTA doesn't seem to have a website. - How is that possible? How do people book flights? - (Jen) Maybe they pulled down their website after this event. - Which would mean there really was an event. - (Miles) Let me try another search engine. I heard of a new one called beetscrew. Founded by a bunch of health nuts into beets � the beets crew. - (Jen) Or maybe they liked screwing beets. - Jen! - (Jen) You're right. Carrots or cucumbers, sure, but beets? - (Miles) . . . Okay, here's something, but not much. - What? - (Miles) Not their website, not a link to anything. It just says, `see Stimulever, Inc.' - (Jen) Stimulever? (laughing) Sorry, but that sounds like a competitor of Viagra. Stimulate your lever. - Jen. - (Jen) Sorry. It's just . . . a funny name. - Okay, what's under Stimulever? - (Miles) Nothing. It says, "You don't have access to this page." - This company definitely doesn't want to be sued. - (Miles) This company needs to be sued. We're going to do it, ladies. Unless your Augie and my Vic come walking in here in the next ten minutes. We'll get to the bottom of this. THE WOODS � SETH What were the odds? The same podunk airline, which I had never heard of, had crashed twice on the same island? In an area where there weren't any islands large enough to appear on a map? And what happened to this Patrick Mayer? This was his seat, but he wasn't in it, nor was his skeleton. Was he another denizen of this afterlife � if this was an afterlife? The plane's discovery prompted considerable discussion among the group. No one was willing to speculate about the implications of being alive or dead, but everyone was upset about the fact that a second ZTA flight had crashed here. No one believed in that much coincidence. And, after being freaked out by Cody's transformation into a sexual aggressor, nerves were on edge, preparing to plunge off the cliff. There was only one thing to do � keep your eyes on the prize, as the song says. And our prize was that lighthouse. - Come on, guys. Nothing more to be gained from staring at that thing. Let's keep moving. Harry echoed my sentiment, though I could see wheels churning in his head. The rest nodded their agreement and tagged along � Ed, Augie, "Ray", and Vic. Suddenly there was a clearing; the forest opened up into a vast grassland with the occasional tree but no dense foliage. During our time in the woods, the sky had clouded over, and there looked like storm clouds in the far distance. That wasn't what caught our attention, however. The multi-colored building now stood in front of us. When we saw it, we gasped. It was not a lighthouse. The dome did fit over a large vertical column, about twenty-five feet in diameter. The vertical stripes descended all the way down the column. The dome-like structure we had seen before hung over like a mushroom head, but tucked in along the side, bulging out in a smooth curve. There was a groove at the top of it that had not been visible from the beach � a groove that was more like a slit. Ray started to cackle, and then burst out into gales of approving laughter. - It's a cock! It's a fucking cock! The others just stood there, stunned. There was no denying it � the structure was a sixty-foot tall phallus, painted in all the colors of the rainbow and then some. Harry had a funny look on his face, like he had just amused himself. - What? - (Harry) Sorry, inappropriate pun. - Let's hear it anyway. - Well . . . it appears that a giant penis . . . has been erected. Indeed it had. But by whom? And why? [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER FIVE � THE PHALLIC TOWER]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-39	Date: Fri, 24 May 2024 12:01:54 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 39 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE: BALANCING ACT Previously, at the Phallic Tower: * Tim wakes up to find his body covered in feathers. * Sean and Ian are hiding Stan's survival from Hamish: Ian because he is in love with Stan, Sean because he hopes that keeping a left-sider alive will sabotage The Project. * A few days ago, a knife materialized in Seth's hand; the inhabitants have used it to cut fruit. Underground: * Due to an overall limit on testicles, when one of The Twelve arrives underground, a left-sider must be gelded (and is later Beta-executed). When Seth liberated several prisoners, however, the `ball count' decreased to a point where castrations were no longer necessary. In flashbacks: * Jes�s unveils The Project to his stockholders: a dozen parallel universes are to be created, each with the power to extend life infinitely. After ponying up more funding to secure this virtual immortality, the stockholders all die in a cable car `accident'. * Tim, while a soldier in Afghanistan, becomes attracted to a local boy, Shahbaz, a falconer; his sergeant discovers them together and demands sex from Shahbaz � and Tim. * * * * * * * * SATURDAY, DECEMBER 22 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER - SETH Ian and Sean were asleep. Gary (Cody, from the way he mumbled `Morning') sat quietly against the wall. Neither Jasper nor Tim was inside the tower, and I went outside to locate them. I found Jasper, returning from a trip to the latrine. Tim, however, was nowhere in evidence. He shouldn't be in jeopardy - his birthday wasn't until tomorrow � but the island was full of surprises: What if a dodecagon had sprung up and taken him early? That possibility was not something I had previously considered. - Jasper, have you seen Tim? - . . . You haven't? - Does that mean you have? - Yes and no. - Jasper, the answer to the question `Have you seen Tim?' can't be `yes and no'. It can be `yes', it can be `no', it can be `I'm not sure', but it can't be both `yes' and `no.' - Okay, then yes. I even talked to him. But . . . - But? - He's different, Seth. I was not liking the tenor of this conversation. - Different how? - Are you familiar with Sesame Street? - Of course, but � - Remember Big Bird? I was not liking the tenor of this conversation AT ALL. - Are you referencing the feather in his hair yesterday? - That feather had babies. Just then Tim emerged from the woods, looking both dazed and angry, if such a thing is possible. At least he wasn't yellow like Big Bird. But, apart from his face, hands, feet, and genitalia, his entire body was covered in feathers, in shades of gray, brown, and black. The only words I could form in my head had the initials WTF. Stimulever had covered him in feathers as if he was a bird. I knew that Tim was a sculptor who specialized in birds. I never stopped to ask him why. FLASHBACK: TIM (AFGHANISTAN) � eight years ago (continued) I became the cumdump of Sergeant Penn Ayers. Every night I reported to his quarters to serve as a welcome wagon for his cock. Every day or two we would visit Shahbaz, whom each of us would sodomize while the other stood guard. The fact that we guarded the barn � with guns � gave Shahbaz confidence that he would not be outed, and he relaxed and became more responsive, especially on his knees. His mouth opened up to me like fellatio was its only purpose in life, and he knew how to work his breath and his tongue to provide maximum pleasure. I shot directly into his mouth and he guzzled my load like pomegranate juice. We reveled in each other's minds as well as bodies, sharing our stories. He praised the exploits of his falcons and related his dreams for the future: escaping Afghanistan and getting an education. Shahbaz wanted to study engineering � maybe he could get to Termez, across the border in Uzbekistan, or even Dushanbe. And then send money home to his family and help them escape as well. And maybe � just maybe � find his father. His brothers could take over the falconry � Mukhtar, sixteen, had already mastered the craft; twelve-year-old Ismat would be ready in a couple of years. The day came, all too soon, when we received orders to move out. My heart was heavy as I visited the family home one last time. Penn, of course, insisted on coming along `for one last shag'. He assumed that my only interest in Shahbaz was in burying my bone into his sweet behind; he had no idea of the emotional turmoil caused by having to leave the boy. Shahbaz, however, was not at home. The only family member present was young Ismat. Penn demanded to know Shahbaz's location. The boy looked confused and didn't answer. Penn interpreted his lack of response as defiance, and aimed his gun at the boy's head. - Sarge, he doesn't understand you. His English is weak. He's only twelve. Penn had gotten a little training in Pashto, but Pashto was spoken in the south, and we'd been deployed in the far north, where the principal language was Uzbek. I tried the little Uzbek I knew with Izmat, but the terrified boy's response was so rapid that I had no idea what he said. Penn didn't need to know that. I invented a story. - He said Shahbaz is at another village, buying supplies. He won't be back for hours. Penn eyed the boy carefully, activating alarm bells in my head. Penn, you're not thinking what I'm thinking you're thinking. He's only twelve, for god's sake. Penn came to his senses, realizing that he didn't want to leave either a bloody corpse or a bleeding rectum for Izmat's mother to find and blame on the Americans. If this had been Mukhtar, I think he would have done it, but twelve was too young for even Penn. - Well, if I can't have a farewell fuck, I've got to give this family something to remember me by. Penn pulled out his service revolver and took aim at one of the family's prize Saker falcons. A squeeze of the trigger and the male falcon fell to the ground. The other birds took flight and Penn, a marksman, plucked them out of the air, one by one, until only the female Saker, a male goshawk and the lone Peregrine remained. The family could not afford to purchase mates for these magnificent creatures. What would they do when these mateless birds had lived their last, without progeny? My only consolation was that Shahbaz would know I was incapable of such an act. But I would never have the chance to apologize for my NCO's inhumanity. I never saw Shahbaz again. Eight months later, when my tour of duty was over, I left the army and set up my studio in Missouri. My first sculpture was never sold, nor did I intend it to be sold. I placed it prominently on my front lawn: a ten-foot tall male Saker falcon, accurate to the feather. NORTH OF THE PHALLIC TOWER � STAN The best I could say was that I was alive. Sean had told Ian that if I died on the island, I would still be alive in Alphaworld, but I didn't want to live in Alphaworld: Magda was in Alphaworld. While a divorce seemed inevitable, who needed all the bitter fights over the house, the car, and Harvey (our marmalade cat)? I wanted to stay here with Ian. `Staying here with Ian' was more aspiration than reality. In the four days since we've separated, I've seen Ian exactly once: he can't easily slip away for long enough to get here and back. We didn't even have sex during his visit � we talked, hugged and kissed, which was great, but I wanted more. I wanted his body. And solitary life was boring. So I took a walk. I wanted to explore parts of the island that I hadn't seen. I knew I had to avoid the meadows, where I might be spotted and where there were penis gardens. So I stuck to the woods. Which is where I saw it: one of those dodecagons they'd all been yammering about. This one was magenta. Dodecagons were dangerous � if it was your birthday and you were one of the Twelve. Well, my birthday was in April and I wasn't among the Twelve. And while all the victims had supposedly found the dodecagons beautiful, I didn't. It was just an interesting shape of a weird color. So I stepped onto it. Suspicions confirmed: I was impervious to its charms. No big deal. THE THRONE ROOM � HAMISH After Percy's conniption fit about Barry's fucking Derisian, I'd had to bar Barry from using the boy. To make up for it, I allowed him unlimited access to anyone else he pleased. Of course, I needed to plug Barry myself every now and then to remind him that he was still my bitch. I was planted firmly inside him when Orson burst into the Throne Room. Lieutenants don't just walk in without knocking unless it's urgent. I was irritated at the interruption of the coitus, but pulled out of Barry with a promise to return as soon as I found out what was so critical that it couldn't wait for my orgasm. - Boss, I'm so sorry, but there's been activity on the magenta portal. - Activity? - Someone walked on it. The magenta's the one scheduled to deliver Fallon tomorrow. - You think it was Fallon finding it a day early? - I don't know, sir � it's quite a ways from the tower. I called Sean, but he didn't respond. He only goes to his phone when he needs to contact us. - Yes, damned inconvenient. Well, find out what's going on when he's in touch. And now, back to some quality buttfucking. NEAR THE PHALLIC TOWER � SEAN They'd apparently decided to split Tim's transfiguration into two phases (without telling me, naturally). Transfiguration would be necessary for life in Simon's universe, and this was a sort of final test with a live subject. Phase One was a triumph: Tim was carpeted with feathers. I'd hoped it would fail, but no such luck. Switzerland would be anxious for the news, so I trotted off to my phone to report to Hamish. I discovered that he had been eager to reach me � and not to ask about Tim. - (Hamish) Who's missing? - What are you talking about? No one's missing. Everyone's been here all morning. - Define `everyone'. - Me, Ian, Herrick, Fallon, Onslow, Adena. They're all congregating around Fallon, wondering why he's looking like Big Bird in old age. - Old age? - Gray feathers. Joke. - Not a joking time, Sean. Sensors detected activity at the magenta portal. Shit. All the tower residents were here. If someone was at the magenta dodecagon, it would have to be Stan. Whom I'd reported dead. - That's impossible. - Are you sure that Casey, Kowalczyk and Sebold are all dead? - (Well, two of them are.) They should be. Casey's buried in three feet of dirt.. Kowalczyk and Sebold were pushed off a cliff. I don't see how either of them could have survived. - Whoever walked on that portal can't be allowed to survive. Find him and take care of it, Sean. Fuck. I need to know where Stan is, and Ian for sure won't tell me. All I know is that he's within walking distance of the magenta dodecagon. Which encompasses a wide range of territory. - Got it. - They're going to want proof. - Proof? You want me to drag their corpses to a penis portal and send them down? - Pictures will do. - I can't photograph corpses that washed out to sea. - One of those `corpses' didn't. Show them his corpse and Casey's � that will suffice. - It couldn't be someone else, could it? Visitor to the island? One of your lieutenants popping up to the surface? Percy out for a stroll? - No one new is on the island, and everyone down here is accounted for. It has to have been one of your dead bodies. Make sure he stays dead this time. And Herrick � they want proof he's met his final surface obligation. - I haven't told him about it yet. - Rightfully so. After Christmas � but they want proof. (Click.) To quote Daffy Duck, what a revolting development THIS is. I pondered my strategies for sabotaging The Project. Plan A � keeping Stan alive � had just taken a major hit. A picture of him pretending to be dead wouldn't be proof � it could just be a picture of him pretending to be dead (which, um, it would be). The bell would have to toll for Beta-Stan � if I could find him. And Ian would just have to lump it. Plan B called for Seth to fail to satisfy his one remaining surface obligation � the one he didn't know about yet. But now they demanded proof of that as well � I didn't see any work-around. Plan C � the last resort � required getting Seth to refuse the triggering act on the 31st . Three problems with that: (1) Seth didn't trust me; (2) no one had told me what the triggering act WAS; it might be something Seth would agree to; and (3) it was literally the last resort � if Plan C failed, there would be no time to implement any potential Plan D. Back to Plan B. Seth was to fulfill that obligation after Christmas. I wonder if acting prematurely might do the trick . . . NEAR THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH Sean approached me, looking none too happy. - I've just been on the phone with Hamish. - Reporting on your surveillance of suspect number one? - Seth � - Joking. You work for them, they expect you to call in now and then. - Exactly. He told me something you're not going to like. I don't like it either. - (sigh) What now? - Another mandate. Another requirement of `the physics'. - What do I have to do now? Eat the feathers off Tim's body? I presume that particular monstrosity is part of your precious Project? - It is, and it's not MY precious Project! But The Project will keep Abe alive, so it's fucking time you took it seriously, Seth. He was right (if he wasn't lying through his teeth). I couldn't bear the thought that, if this Project failed, that Abe would be dead within a year. And if it failed because of something I did � or didn't do . . . - Okay, what do I have to do? - I'm not supposed to tell you yet. - Sean, you can't hold out on me. I intend to go back down and rescue Abe. If there are pieces of the puzzle I don't even know about � it's just not fair. You say you love me. So be honest with me. Tell me what I'm supposed to do. If you want me to continue to cooperate. - It won't be easy. - So I understand. Get on with it, Sean. - You have to collect three balls. - What fun, a scavenger hunt! What kind, billiard balls? There must be dozens on the island. Basketballs? Baseballs? Beachballs, perhaps. Meatballs? Melon balls? . . . Debutante balls? - Male balls. - . . . You mean testicles? - Exactly. - They want me to `collect' three testicles. - Yes, three. - How am I supposed to do that? - I guess that knife wasn't intended only for fruit. - Fuck, Sean. That's ridiculous. I'm supposed to geld one guy and half-geld another? - That would add up to three. - Can I start with you? - (smiling) Sorry. Has to be a Twelve. And not you. So three balls from the other three. - One from each? - That would also add up to three. - They'll bleed to death. - No they won't. This is the island, Seth. You saw what happened downstairs. People heal. - So if I cut off a guy's nuts, they'll be back the next morning? - Sorry, no. Severed is severed. But it will only last `til the thirty-first. Then The Project goes through, and everyone goes back to Alphaworld. A better Alphaworld, a happy Alphaworld. - With testicles? - With testicles. - So you're asking them to sacrifice one ball each for nine days. What do they get out of it? - They get to avoid the fate that awaits them if the Project fails. - Which is? - I can't tell you. - You told me about Abe � that he would die. - I didn't tell you how. And I won't. - Will they all die in the next year if the Project fails? - Seth, I wish you'd trust me. I can't tell you that. All I can say is that the Project will spare them from a future they'd want to be spared from. More importantly, you'll get Abe, safe and sound. And you can achieve all that at a total cost of three testicles for no more than nine days. - You sound like a salesman: `You can achieve happiness in just three easy installments of one testicle each.' Are you going to say `but wait � there's more!'? - Seth. - They'd be losing their nuts, Sean! - More like renting them out. - Gary's been Ray or Cody most of the last few days � can you see either one of them giving up a nut? And then spring that surprise on Gary when he emerges? Jasper, MAYBE, would sacrifice one; he's oversexed anyway. But Tim � after he's turned into the Birdman of Alcatraz, I'm going to lay THIS on him? - I don't see a lot of choices. And tomorrow's Tim's birthday, he may be gone. - I know damn well it's his birthday, Sean. And I'm going to make damn sure he doesn't get sucked into the earth by a fucking dodecagon! - Your record on that front hasn't been stellar so far, Seth. If you're going to ask Tim, I'd do it now. - I'll think it over. - But, Seth, if I were you � I wouldn't ask them. I would tell them. You are their leader, you know. Yeah, I know. But I never asked to be. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SEAN My version of the story will be this: Ian let slip that Seth had a task I hadn't told him about. Seth demanded to know what it was, threatened to go on strike unless I told him. Was it my fault if he acted on it prematurely? (Don't answer that question.) The problem was, Seth acting prematurely might not be enough. Maybe the physics wouldn't mind if a testicle or two came from Tim. But without many cards left in my deck, I had to play this one � and hope. For I CANNOT let The Project go through. And not just to fulfill my dream of making Seth my slave or to become Ari's second-in-command if he successfully ousted Jes�s. My role in the Project was intolerable. In-fucking-tolerable. Jes�s didn't know I knew that. But I did. In the meantime, I had another job to do � one which there was no point in trying to sabotage. At two in the morning, Phase Two of the transfiguration test would take place. I was to wait up, sneak out, and report on the results; if anything went wrong, they'd still have time to make course corrections. Normally the tower was pitch-dark at that hour, but there was a full moon and if I opened the door, it would let in enough light to see the area near the door where Tim slept; that was all I needed, wasn't it? It was. * * * * * * * * SUNDAY, DECEMBER 23 * * * * * * * * SWITZERLAND � JES�S The transmission was received at nine a.m. � three a.m. on the island. I notified Thibaut and Falcon, the primary engineers, then called in Simon. - It worked, Simon. The body modification software was a hundred percent successful. - I was sure it would, the simulations have all been perfect. - So it looks like Aquaworld is good to go. - I never doubted it for a moment. Still, I'm relieved. If it hadn't worked � - Aquaworld would be the one not activated. - But I'm safe. I didn't draw the metaphorical short straw. - . . . - It's obvious, Chief. If I had, you wouldn't have gone to all of this trouble with Fallon. - . . . I suppose that's a reasonable deduction. - So who did? - You know I can't tell you that. FLASHBACK: JES�S (ST. MORITZ) � four years ago The stockholders, soon to die in a tragic `accident', had longed to learn the nature of the twelve universes The Project would beget. I had withheld that information, partly because of a glitch in the physics that my own board members were unaware of: As currently configured, the multiverse would be out of balance. There were to be twelve worlds, one for each of us. Originally, I was to rule Alphaworld, its inhabitants oblivious to the existence of other worlds (or to the fact that it had a ruler). I intended to be a benevolent dictator � reversing global warming, increasing food availability, stemming overpopulation � without overdoing it. It had to resemble life as people knew it � while avoiding some of the worst excesses that collective human negligence had induced. The other eleven worlds were each so specialized that some of them lacked the means to generate necessary goods and services � whatever was lacking was provided automatically and taken for granted by the populace. In a world with no farms, food would just exist. In a world with no manufacturing, equipment would just exist. In a world with no women, reproduction would be by cloning. There were three worlds without women. There were no worlds without men. Hence the imbalance. As it turned out, it was not necessary to balance exactly, as lesbians were welcome in all mixed-gender worlds. But the physics required at least one exclusively for them - we needed to create Lesboworld; it was all part of the balancing act. That made thirteen worlds - one of them had to go. The physics pointed to the elimination of Alphaworld; the specialized universes could all exist. But Lesboworld needed a resident overseer, which certainly wasn't going to be me. I'd have to evict someone from their desired domain and saddle them with this all-female universe. What was worse, it would be an all-desert climate, to balance Simon's Aquaworld. The elimination of Alphaworld, however, gave me another option. As chairman, I could be an Overlord, presiding over all twelve universes, hopping here and there as I pleased. Which meant that, if Hamish did a good job of running the island, I could reward him with his own world. To give Hamish Lesboworld would seem like a punishment, not a reward � but SOMEONE had to preside over this unwanted universe. I gathered the Board plus Hamish, and summarized the problem. I proposed a rotation system, each trading their own world for a month of Lesboworld; this went nowhere. Not only did they balk at spending a month in Lesboworld, but they didn't trust the stewardship of a guest ruler in their own coveted domains. I considered imposing such a system on them anyway, but when Dolph ran exploratory simulations, the power-sharing arrangement proved too unstable, risking a rift in space-time. In short, we needed one permanent ruler for each world, period. The system would hold if a switch were effected for one day a month (the twelfth, naturally). I would even take my turn, giving Lesboworld's governor one day a year where he could oversee everything � a tiny fillip indeed, but at least something for him to look forward to. Fine, but we still needed to dump Lesboworld on somebody. I considered arbitrarily assigning Dion, but he was popular among the Board for his social (and sexual) skills, and I wanted no blood on my hands. The Board agreed to the choice being made randomly, leaving their fates to chance. I insisted that the identity of the unfortunate loser be withheld until the last possible moment � if he knew about it now, he would have no incentive to advance the Project. What if it was Thibaut or Falcon? It would be a disaster. They saw the logic in this, and consented. They would write their names on identical slips of paper. Later, when I was alone, I would record the selection process using analog technology and lock the tape safely away in a vault. The vault would stay locked until five minutes before activation of The Project, when the Unlucky Loser would learn his fate. I closed my eyes, reached in and selected . . . Sean. Oh, motherfuck. Of all people, it had to be Sean? Sean, to whom I had given the responsibility of grooming our Trigger Man for the role he was to play. If not for the fact that the Board � including Sean � had agreed to this random method of selection, I would have overruled the decision and spared him this horrible assignment. There was one silver lining. Sean's proposed domain, Prisonworld, would now go to Hamish, who was ideally-suited to it. Prisonworld, among my favorite universes, was also a place I would frequent myself. Maybe there was a way, in a century or two, to reassign domains. I had Dolph investigate. He said it was indeed possible � in twelve hundred years. FLASHBACK: ARI (ST. MORITZ) � October, this year I have never known Jes�s to be careless. But everyone is human � which means they have vulnerabilities. And vulnerabilities are things you need to exploit � ask Machiavelli. I was in his office for a meeting when he left the room for a restroom break. I noticed a piece of paper on his desk. It had a series of numbers on them � twelve rows of twelve symbols each, some numbers, some letters � in multiple alphabets and Chinese characters. Something that cryptic just might be the combination to the vault. I quickly snapped a picture of it before he returned. It was, indeed, the combination to the vault. Jes�s never discovered that I had it. And so I found the video from four years ago, the one that would reveal which of us was to be condemned to rule Lesboworld. I had to be sure it wasn't me. If the Project succeeded, Warworld, under my reign, was going to be spectacular. If it failed, there was a good chance I could, with Sean's support, oust Jesus and take Stimulever in the direction I desired � no multitude of universes � a single one made in the image of Warworld. I'd have my druthers either way � unless I was condemned to Lesboworld. I had to know who was. A classic good-news, bad-news result. It wasn't me. But it was Sean. My closest ally, the one whose support I needed to oust Jes�s � which could only happen if The Project failed. I realized how I could turn this to my advantage: I simply had to tell him. Now he would surely devote all his energies toward defeating The Project. And Jes�s would never suspect it. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH Okay, I'll admit I didn't expect this. I would say that things were getting out of hand, but they'd gotten out of hand long ago. Tim with feathers wasn't enough? This morning, Tim had wings. Let me repeat that: Tim had wings. His arms had morphed into long feathered appendages identical to a bird's wings. His legs were still human (though covered with feathers), his head was still human, and his cock and balls were still human and prominently displayed. But everything else said: Bird. Why? Tim was beside himself with worry; I had to remind him that Betaworld was only temporary, and maybe he'd have to put up with this for eight more days, but then he'd go back to normal (I thought). That was little consolation. Then Gary � who was actually Gary this morning � asked an interesting question: - Can you fly? If they had given him wings, perhaps he could fly. Why else would they give him actual wings? He flapped his arms, jumped slightly, and an updraft took him up in the air. - (Tim, aloft) Omigod, I CAN fly! I can actually fly! This could be useful, Seth! I could scout for things. I could find fruit trees. And other sources of water. I could fly to the top of coconut palms and toss down coconuts that hadn't fallen. This is incredible! THE PHALLIC TOWER � SEAN This gave me a brilliant idea. After Tim landed, I called him over for a private consultation. - Tim, I'm wondering if you could do a job for us. - Sure, anything. - But you have to keep a secret. - I was in the military, Sean. I can keep my mouth shut. - Stan wasn't captured by a penis garden. I lied about that. - . . . Wow. Okay. Why? - They wanted to castrate him downstairs. You know, he and Ian got close, and I didn't want them to do that to him. - Sure, of course not. - So he's hiding, but I need to contact him. I want to surprise Ian by letting the two of them have a rendezvous tonight. I want Stan to go to the creek tonight, just after sunset. Could you get that message to him? - Yeah, okay, I suppose. But where is he? - He's up north of here a couple of miles, along the beach. Okay, that last part was a guess, but it was logical. It wasn't far from the magenta dodecagon, and the beach was more comfortable than the woods. - Best to fly over the trees, though, so he doesn't see you approach. If he sees something flying over the coast, he'd probably panic and hide. - Ah. Good point. - Go now. They'll think you're just practicing flying. - You don't want to tell them where I'm going? - I don't want Ian to know. He thinks Stan is underground. I want it to be a surprise � an early Christmas present. - Cool. I got it. And off he flew. To everyone's surprise (and Seth's obvious consternation) he didn't perch on a nearby tree. And then I realized how stupid I had been. Acting on a spontaneously `brilliant' thought, I'd just unconsciously sabotaged my own plan. Seth couldn't collect Tim's testicle now, could he? It was unlike me to be so reckless. OVER THE ISLAND � TIM I feel like bursting into a chorus from "Peter Pan" � "I'm flying!" This is the most exhilarating feeling I've ever had. Yes, it totally weirds me out. I was like something out of "The Island of Dr. Moreau", with his half-human, half-animal grotesqueries. But as long as I stayed half-human, as long as I stayed Tim, I could live with that � for eight days. Sean had assured us that Betaworld was only temporary, and the joy I got from flying � well, it was compensation for looking like the result of a scientific experiment gone wrong. I felt like the result of a scientific experiment gone right. If I had to be an animal, I'd want to be a bird. My life since Shahbaz has been birds. Birds and sculpture. I can't believe how easy this is. DaVinci tried to build flying machines based on birds, and failed miserably. I'm not built like a bird, my center of gravity is all wrong � I shouldn't be able to lift off the ground. It should be a tough balancing act. And yet, by the simple act of replacing my arms with wings, I can soar, I can maneuver at will, I can rise and fall and glide and catch updrafts and downdrafts and it's like I instantaneously know how to utilize them, like I've been born to it. Just as I'm thinking that, I'm feeling a downdraft. It's harder to stay above the trees. I suppose I could land in one of them, though the top branches don't look too sturdy and I weigh a lot more than a sparrow. Ah, there's an opening in the trees; let me glide down toward it and � Oh, it's a dodecagon. The opening is a dodecagon. My goodness, it's magnificent, magenta in color. I must land there. I manage to flutter down and land � effortlessly! And here I am, atop this twelve-sided figure, with a mammoth magenta phallus that seems to call to me like Bali Ha'i. The exhilaration from flying is carrying over to the feeling I'm getting standing here, and I know I have to embrace this phallus. It's wonderful! Below me there's the image of � a rooster? I remember Harry's talk about the Chinese calendar. I was born in the year of the rooster � another bird! How fitting. How glorious. I wrapped my wings around the phallus as my feet seemed to sink into something gooey, which then hardened around my ankles. And what was that slithering up my legs? ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND � JES�S At four o'clock, Germ�n delivered the news that Fallon had arrived on schedule. We hadn't had to move the dodecagon to entrap him; Sean had had the bright idea of letting him fly over it. Once he saw it, our bird-man's goose was as good as cooked. I wanted to make sure that things were in balance regarding the Ball Count, and I exchanged a series of transmissions at one-minute intervals at 4 p.m. with Hamish. - Hamish, by my count Fallon puts you back up over the limit. So you need to geld another left-sider. - We do, and there's only one left from the plane, aside from Derisian. - Thompson? - Yeah, Thompson. Geld him today, chop him tomorrow, that's the plan. - Okay, sounds like you've got things under control. - It's all a balancing act, Jes�s. But under control. THE DARK ROOM � TIM I should have known not to trust Sean. I realize now that his story about Stan was probably a complete fabrication, designed to get me to fly over the magenta dodecagon on my birthday. And I fell for it. It was my birthday, dammit. I should have stayed firmly inside the tower, wings and all. But no, I had to show off my newfound ability to fly. The thing crawling up my leg found its way into my ass, of course, and started screwing the daylights out of me. And, to my lack of surprise, the floor underneath me collapsed and I fell into the depths below. Just like all the others foolish enough to venture onto their personal dodecagons on their birthdays. I knew from Augie what to expect: total darkness in the arrival space. Landing on a chair with a dildo sticking out of it, which went right up my ass. Straps quickly fastening themselves around my torso, arms and legs, keeping me totally restrained. None of this was pleasant, but it wasn't surprising. The surprise was that I was cold. With all the feathers covering my body, I shouldn't have been cold. But I couldn't feel feathers covering my body. And my arms . . . felt like arms, not wings. As quickly as I had morphed into a bird-man, it seemed I was again wholly human. Making me avian had, it would appear, been for the entire purpose of getting me to the dodecagon so I could be captured by this weirdo Hamish that Augie and the others had told us about. Augie had said that everyone from `The Twelve' had met someone from their past. And Augie had described his enemas as being administered by two guys � one of whom was named Penn. Penn. It couldn't be a coincidence. Not that common a name. My army tormentor, Sergeant Penn Ayers � he who had slain Shahbaz's falcons, he who had raped my lover and turned me into his personal cocksucker � was, I had no doubt, here. I was not alone in the space. To my left I heard a rhythmic noise, occasionally punctuated by a grunt. - Hello? - I see another one has arrived. Pardon me if I'm not too coherent. I'm being fucked right now. - So am I. - No, you've just got a dildo up your ass. I've got a machine under my chair that's literally fucking me. Which one are you? - Tim. Tim Fallon. - Piers Thompson. Have you seen Theo Sebold? He's my friend. - I know Theo. . . . I'm sorry, but I think he's back down here. They recaptured him. - Oh, shit. Just then the door opened and someone flicked on a light, which hurt my eyes. I closed them in defense, then waited a few seconds and gradually let the light in. I looked at myself � my arms were just arms, my feathers vanished. I was the same naked human being I had been two days ago. - Hey, Fallon, welcome. Have a good flight? To my relief, the man who spoke was not Penn Ayers. He looked me over, then turned to Piers. - Thompson, you should have seen Fallon an hour ago. He had wings, and feathers. Actual wings and actual feathers. But it looks like he's had a little body modification when he dropped down here. The man inserted a key into the side of Piers's chair and twisted it. - (Piers) Who is it this time, Stefan? (to me) They only release me for bathroom breaks or when one of them wants to fuck me personally. - (`Stefan') Not this time, Thompson. You're getting freed from this chair for good. - I am? - You are. That's the good news. - What's the bad news? - You're getting a body modification of your own. And he reached between Piers's legs and gently patted his balls. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER FORTY � MERRY CHRISTMAS]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-18	Date: Mon, 11 Mar 2024 21:18:03 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 18 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER 18: PIECING THINGS TOGETHER Previously, on the surface: * Lucas, over Seth's objections, accompanies Augie on a water-and-laundry mission. Under the influence of a violet dodecagon, Lucas rapes Augie; afterwards, Augie witnesses the dodecagon's collapse, taking Lucas underground. Augie discovers most of his clothes missing. * Jasper, a sex addict, struggles with temptation on the island. * Three days ago, a flight manifest was delivered to the tower, showing that all of their birthdays are in December. Underground: * Barry is forced to kill his co-pilot, Phil, who had previously been gelded. In Aruba: * Stimulever representative Sean O'Hara (Seth's former lover) reveals that the island and ZTA exist only in Betaworld, a test universe that Jordan and Miles were not supposed to be aware of. Jordan's straddling the two worlds was accidental; Miles's was part of Sean's plan to undo `The Project'. Miles reluctantly informs Sean of the location of Nick, the hacker, and Jen, Jordan's sister, who also know of ZTA's existence. Sean is in Aruba, sent there to `neutralize' Jordan and Miles; he tells Jordan his last name is Stimulever. In flashbacks: * Lucas is shown to be a serial killer and cannibal, along with his friend Stefan. * Ian (a `lieutenant' sharing quarters with left-sider Stan) reveals that he is part of Abe's past as well as Seth's. . * * * * * * * * WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 5 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH - Shit, Harry, how could I have let him go? - You couldn't have stopped him, Seth. You know how bull-headed Lucas is. But he'll be all right. He knows the way to the stream, and there are no dodecagons along the way. - There WEREN'T, Harry. But, coming back from the beach, I swear I saw one that hadn't been there before. - You think they can appear spontaneously? - Sounds crazy, doesn't it? - I'm not sure what crazy means anymore. But Tim and Dai went to the stream this morning and didn't see one. - Good point. And the dodecagon I saw was south of there. If Lucas and Augie followed our normal path, they should be well clear of it. - I admit, though, that I'll feel more comfortable once they're back here. - Me too, Harry. Me, too. - I hereby proclaim you an official member of the `Me, too' movement. THE WOODS � AUGIE My mind was still reeling. Lucas � who I could have sworn was straight � had been driven crazy by the medallion and had done something unimaginable to me. And then the medallion opened up like a crater and Lucas dropped out of sight. The ground sealed up all over him. Seth and Harry had been right. Paul and Leo had both vanished on their birthdays. And now Lucas. All three of them must be dead now. To top it all off, most of my clothes were gone. I still had my jeans, which I had worn down to the medallion where . . . THAT had happened. But my shirt and shoes had vanished into thin air. We'd left the group's laundry upstream a bit � I figured I could borrow someone else's clothes for the trip back to the tower. I walked upstream to pick up the laundry and stopped dead in my tracks. Those clothes were gone, too. Lucas's clothes and the underwear and socks we had so meticulously washed and wrung out to dry on rocks. I looked all around. Nothing. I guess it wasn't all that shocking � clothes had vanished before. But � I mean, this was ALL of our socks, ALL of our underwear. How could I explain what had happened? THE VIOLET DODECAGON / THE DARK ROOM � LUCAS I tell you � fucking Augie's sweet ass was sheer euphoria. Oh, baby, was he tight! And believe me, the kid is gay, whether he knows it or not. Afterwards, that dodecagon just sang to me. I HAD to hug that big violet phallus in the corner. Before I knew it, it felt like something was fucking me in the ass. I say `felt like' because there was nothing behind me. Yet the sensation was exactly like getting fucked. I know what getting fucked feels like. Even though I'm a natural dominant � and then some � I can bottom under the right circumstances. Stefan would fuck me when we celebrated an addition to our meat locker; it was our tradition. Sadly, our goal of surpassing Jeffrey Dahmer was never realized: Stefan disappeared eighteen months ago without explanation, just when our supply of Lancemeat was running low and it was time for another barbecue. I didn't have the heart to continue without him. Getting `fucked' was the first big surprise; the second was when the dodecagon opened up under my feet. I remember childhood cartoons where a bigwig in his office would press a button on his desk, and a trap door would open underneath some poor schmuck who was annoying him. I thought it was so cool, I wanted to push that button and send the hapless victim plummeting into who-knew-what. In cartoons, it was someplace harmless, like out onto the street. In my fantasies, he fell into a furnace or onto spikes. I didn't fall into a furnace. Somehow, I was on a chair with a dildo on it, which went straight up my ass. Such a landing after a thirty-foot fall should have ruptured my colon, putting me at risk of bleeding to death. Instead, it was like I had sat down and the dildo had sprung up to spear me. Uncomfortable, but hardly life-threatening. I couldn't see a thing in the total darkness. Oddly, I felt a total sense of calm. It was as if the chair was making love to me. I felt attuned to it, as if we were merged into a single entity. The dildo was like a welcoming committee, saying `Hello, Lucas, glad to meet you.' Would I be glad to meet it back? STAN'S CELL � IAN To my astonishment, I was falling in love with Stan. It was contrary to my interests. I was here to discipline � and have sex with � the left-siders, especially Stan, whose custodian I was. I was to make sure I fucked him daily. But I was uninformed as to why he was here, or what his fate was. The ZTA flights were spread out over three years, one every three months. I arrived a year ago, on Flight 8, along with eleven others. As a lieutenant, I saw � and fucked � those eleven guys, but, one by one, about a week apart, I stopped seeing them. Three months later, only Ysidro was left � the poor guy was getting shtupped ten times a day by me and other lieutenants. And then he wasn't there anymore. I knew we were in some kind of alternate reality. I had learned that much. So when the other passengers disappeared, I figured they'd been moved back to the real world � at least, that's what I hoped. I also knew there was an exit to the surface. I'd seen Percy use it. It was in a special room called the Egress Room. There was a passcode; if I could learn it, I could escape. IF I wanted to escape. I wasn't sure I did. Hamish trusted me, he liked me, he gave me privileges. Okay, he didn't reward me with information, but he kept me comfortable and I certainly had all the sex I could want. I had it good in a lot of ways. But I didn't want to spend the rest of my life here; I wanted life back in Cleveland, as much of an oxymoron as that might seem to some. Maybe I wouldn't have to wait too long � Stan had arrived on Flight 12. I had heard inklings that Flight 12 was "it", the one that mattered, the culmination of all that had come before. If that was true, maybe one consequence would be to send me back to my old life in Cleveland, and escape would be unnecessary. So what was different about Flight 12? 1. Percy was on it. 2. The pilot and co-pilot both showed up here � and the pilot had become Hamish's dog-slave. 3. None of the passengers had been made a lieutenant. 4. There were twice the usual number of passengers. The left-siders, twelve in number, included Stan and were all here; the right-siders � so special they were simply called "The Twelve" � were mostly on the surface, but a few had subsequently arrived underground. No one from any previous flight had spent any time on the surface. 5. Two people I knew were on that flight: Seth and Abe. THE THRONE ROOM � BARRY Hamish and Percy seemed comfortable discussing their plans openly in front of me. This was either reassuring or scary. Either it was a sign of their trust in me, or they had concluded that they could say anything they wanted, because I wouldn't be around long enough for it to matter. I was guessing it was a combination of both. - (Hamish) Heidekker has arrived. - (Percy) So now we're out of balance. - Yes. We need to reduce the number of left-siders by one. But that has to occur tomorrow � a day after the new arrival. - But the balls go today, right? - Yes, the balls go today. - Whose? - Boy! Oh, that was me. - Yes, Master? - (Hamish) Get me my tablet. I fetched it for him. He switched it on and fiddled with it for several seconds. - (Hamish) Here. Here's the schedule of castrations. Today it's Curtis. The next one's in two days � Antonopoulos. The one after that is Kowalczyk, on the 11th. Kowalczyk. His first name, I remembered, was Stan, and he was Polish. I had welcomed him to Hamishland in one of my official duties as Hamish's slave and dog-boy. Seemed like a nice young man � straight, I was pretty sure. And he's soon to lose his nuts � and maybe more than that? I was starting to piece things together. Whenever one of The Twelve arrived, a left-sider lost his nuts. I don't know why, but it was a rule � otherwise they would be `out of balance', whatever that meant. Like there was a limit on the number of balls Hamishland could have. Another lieutenant had told me that his left-sider roommate had disappeared the day after his castration. Hamish had made it sound like the left-siders would be set free � but maybe, like Phil, they were executed. Lord, I hoped not. I liked this young man, Stan Kowalczyk. Moreover, I knew that Ian � his custodian � had grown quite attached to him. Although Stan had always considered himself straight, it was possible he was actually bisexual, and might be attracted to Ian as well. I don't know if Ian knew about Stan's upcoming castration � and possible death. Ian's been here a while � a year � but from conversations I've had with him, it didn't seem like he knew about the castrations at all. And if Ian was fond of Stan, and found out what Stan was slated for, he would not be a happy camper. I'm going to tell Ian the next time I see him. Just to warn him. Six days from now, Stan's balls are coming off. Maybe Ian can influence Hamish, do something to prevent it. See � and you thought I was a bad person. THE PHALLIC TOWER � HARRY - My God, Augie, what's the matter? He looked terrible. And he had practically staggered back to the Tower bare-chested and barefoot. And alone. Carrying two water bottles, but none of the clothes he and Lucas had taken to be washed. - Harry, can we . . . can I talk to you privately? - This sounds important. - It is, I just . . . don't want everyone to know. - If it's important, Seth should know. - Yeah, well, okay. You can bring Seth, I guess. I gathered Seth and Augie told us his sad tale. - (Seth) He raped you? - (Augie) Shh. Don't say it so loud. - (Seth) And then you found your clothes missing. - (Augie) Except for my jeans, yeah. I wore them down to the medallion � - (Seth) The medallion? - The dodecagon. Augie calls them medallions. - (Augie) After he . . . you know, my jeans were still there and I put them on, but all my other clothes were gone. And so were Lucas's. And all the clothes we brought to wash. - Just like when Paul took off Dai's shirt at the stream and it disappeared. - (Seth) And Lucas disappeared underground. - (Augie) The medallion just dropped from under his feet like a trap door. And then it covered back up again, but it was just dirt, there wasn't any more medallion. - (Seth) I tried to tell him it was dangerous. It's his birthday, dammit. No one can leave this tower on their birthday. Who's got the next birthday? - Dai. Friday. - (Seth) Twenty-four hour watch on Dai. Someone with him at all times. - Lucas had someone with him, and that didn't stop anything. - (Augie) I tried, Harry. But you know Lucas � he's so stubborn. And he's stronger than me, anyway. That's why he was able to . . . - (Seth) Better make it two people with Dai at all times. At least on Friday. - (Augie) Seth? What do I tell people? I mean, no one has any underwear now. Or socks. - (Seth) They'll manage. They're all going commando at the moment, they can deal with it. Anyway, losing clothing isn't the end of the world. I stand here as Exhibit A. And what a spectacular Exhibit A he was. THE DARK ROOM � LUCAS Hands grabbed me. He � it was clearly a `he' � pulled me up and the dildo slid out of my ass as if it was gelatin. Moments later I was bent over something soft. And something quite not-soft was poking at my rectum. For the second time in under two hours, I was fucked � assuming you counted whatever occurred at the dodecagon as fucking, given that there was no person with me. THIS fucker was quite human. And he was grunting as he thrust his way into my inner sanctum. Instead of holding on to me by the hips, he reached underneath me and twisted my nipples as he drove himself forward. Just the way that Stefan used to. This guy fucked like Stefan did, too, it was bizarre. Rather than keep a regular rhythm, Stefan always used to do it in threes � one, two, three, then a beat, one, two, three, beat. I thought no one in the world ever fucked like that. It was uncanny. And, come to think of it, those grunts sounded a lot like � - Stefan? That can't possibly be you, can it? - I was wondering when you were going to realize it, Lukie. Welcome to paradise, my friend. THE PHALLIC TOWER � HARRY - Augie, just to confirm, you saw a figure on the dodecagon � a dragon? - That's what it looked like. - At the green dodecagon when it made you take off your clothes � - Please don't remind me of that. - Sorry, but it might be significant. You saw some kind of animal there, didn't you? - Yeah. A goat. - And when Paul disappeared I thought I saw a rabbit. - Yeah, so? - I think I need to find Dai. And I need another look at that flight manifest. THE WOODS NEAR THE PHALLIC TOWER � DAI It's a medical condition, I'm convinced of it. Somehow I have about three times as much semen as the average man. Which means that when I cum, I cum forever. Most guys shoot their load in five to seven spurts. I can go on for twice that � once I counted seventeen. And it builds up practically instantaneously. After I wank,I can almost always go again immediately. This condition has only been exacerbated on the island. There's something incredibly sexual about this place. I don't know if these dodecagon things are the cause of it, or a symptom of it, but they're making guys' libidos go � you'll pardon the expression � nuts. Here, I have to whack off three or more times a day. It's embarrassing. In the morning, when everyone is taking their morning piss and crap, I do, too, but I also beat the meat, because it demands it. And I find a couple of other times to sneak away and spank the old monkey. It feels sooooo good when I do, but I'm in distress until I finally let it all loose onto the forest floor. Then I cover it up with dirt or leaves or twigs, in case someone finds the spot before it dries up. Today I got caught. My cock was hanging out of my pants � my underwear having been taken off to be washed � and I was stroking it as furiously as if I was rubbing two sticks together to start a fire. - Can I help you with that? OMG. I didn't even hear him coming. I rapidly tucked myself back in, still stiff as a rod, and turned around to face the intruder: Jasper. Who got all embarrassed, as if HE'd been the one caught whacking off. - Look, Dai, I'm sorry. It just came out. Force of habit, I guess. I just . . . can't help myself sometimes. - It's okay. I shouldn't have . . . I thought I was alone and . . . you know, this place, it does crazy shit to us. - Tell me about it. I . . . The irony is that I came here to forget about sex. - Huh. Poor choice of vacation spots. - Well, I meant going to Aruba. - That seems like a poor choice also. - That was the point. I had to surround myself with temptation and resist it. Look, I've been wanting to tell this to somebody � anybody � and maybe you're the guy, now that you have a secret of your own that, you know, I'll keep to myself, promise. - Uh . . . okay. - I'm being treated for sex addiction. I have trouble going two days in a row without sex. My therapist challenged me to go to Aruba for a week and not pick up anyone. I was even going to try not to flirt, which was maybe more of a challenge than I could handle. But if I found a cute guy who was interested, I was determined to flat out refuse. No way we were going back to my hotel room � or his. - That's admirable, Jasper. That must have taken a lot of courage. - And then I come here and I'm surrounded by hot guys. Even Harry is starting to look good. - Hey! Don't say that. I like Harry. - Sorry, I didn't mean to insult him like that. I like Harry, too. - He's gay, you know, Jasper, and I think he's probably been rejected most of his life. - The opposite problem from mine. Everyone always says `yes'. - Well . . . you are good-looking, Jasper. - As are you. If we weren't here � and if I wasn't on my chastity pledge � I'd be trying to get into your pants right now. But . . . I got the sense you were attracted to someone else. - (Whoa, where did that come from? Did he really pick up on that? I didn't think it was obvious.) - Paul, right? - (I guess it was.) - Yeah, Paul. . . . Paul's hot. Paul WAS hot. It's . . . it's hard, Jasper. - I can see that it still is. Oh, God, did I say that? Damn it, Jasper, get your mind out of the gutter. I'm sorry, Dai. Did you and he - ? - No. No, we didn't couple. I wanted to. I think maybe he wanted to. And then that horrible jockstrap thing happened to him and there was no freeing up his cock and � well, I didn't want to take advantage of that. . . . And now he's dead. - We don't know that for sure. - Harry says the ground swallowed him up. He was buried alive. Speak of the devil, here he comes. . . . Harry! Hi. What's up? - (Harry) Dai, hi. Listen, a couple of things. First thing. Lucas has disappeared. Looks like he got swallowed up like Paul was, and I suspect Leo was as well. - Holy crap. - (Harry) Indeed. Today is Lucas's birthday, Dai. Paul disappeared on his birthday, Leo disappeared on his birthday. Your birthday is Friday. - Right. I guess twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern. - (Harry) I've talked to Seth, and he's � in military terms, he's confining you to quarters. Tomorrow, it's okay if you go out with somebody � like now, being here with Jasper, it's okay � - (Oh, Harry, if you only knew the real reason I was here.) - (Harry) But on Friday, you're not leaving the Tower. Other than for calls of nature. And even then you'll have chaperones. At least two. We have to protect you, Dai. You're not going anywhere away from this tower. - But if we stick to paths we know, we should avoid the dodecagons, right? - That's what we thought before. But Lucas is still gone. - Yeah. Okay. I got it. - One more thing, Dai. It's kinda related, but I'm not sure if it matters, beyond a curiosity. Do you know the animals of the Chinese calendar? - I'm Japanese, Harry. - I know that, but you're the closest thing we got. And I thought maybe � - Yeah, I do know them, actually. - There's a twelve-year cycle, right? - (Jasper) Are you asking because it's another twelve? - (Harry) Kinda. Augie was born in 2003. What year was that? - 2003. Let's see, I was born in 1990, the year of the Horse, so the next year of the Horse was 2002, which means 2003 was the year of the Goat. - (Harry) Shit. Lucas was born in 1988 � was that the year of the Dragon? - That's two before the Horse, which would be � yep, Dragon. - And I'll bet 1999 was the Year of the Rabbit � am I right? - Correct again. - (Jasper) What's this all about? I was born in 1989, year of the Snake. So what? - (Harry) Augie saw a dragon on the dodecagon before it got Lucas. I saw a rabbit on Paul's dodecagon. The one that made Augie go nuts had a goat on it. - You're saying - ? - Somewhere on this island, there's a dodecagon for each of us. And, Dai, yours is going to have a picture of a horse on it, and Jasper, yours is going to have a snake. I'm willing to bet that all twelve of us were born in different years of the Asian calendar. I'm 1995. What's that? - 1995, that would be. . . let's see . . . the Year of the Pig. Harry stopped breathing. - (Harry) Year of the Pig . . . I was born in the Year of the Pig. (Sigh) Of course I was. ORANJESTAD, ARUBA � JORDAN - So did you bring the list? - (Sean) What list? - You know damn well what list, Mr. Stimulever. The list of passengers on Flight 12. - So that you can initiate a class action suit against us. - We need answers, Mr. Stimulever. Miles and I are getting the runaround. Why isn't he at this meeting, anyway? - I met with Mr. King earlier. Now I'm meeting with you. - Divide and conquer? We're a team, Mr. Stimulever. You can't � - Sean. Please call me Sean. I don't want us to be adversaries, Jordan. He called me Jordan. He wants me to call him Sean. An obvious negotiating ploy to break down my resistance by presenting himself as a human being instead of the corporate shill that he is. I shouldn't play this game. And yet, he didn't seem like a corporate shill. And � I hate to admit this � he was a HUNK. To make matters worse, his eyes were sending signals that went well beyond `let's be friends'. Those were bedroom eyes. And, omigod, how I wanted to leap into his arms. In a bedroom. No, Jordan. Remember your objective here. Zen Tropical Airways � and Stimulever � had to be held accountable. I needed to get information from him . . . and then maybe we'd go out for a drink later. So what did I do? I smiled. Not a condescending, I-know-what-you're-doing smile. A genuine, I'm-attracted-to-you smile. - I don't want us to be adversaries either, Mr. Stimulever. - Sean. - Sean. I just . . . if you knew how frustrating it is to have lost someone you love, and no one � NO ONE � will explain what happened. How could a plane just disappear from the screen, not arrive, without explanation? The airport denies there was any incident, the press won't cover it. Other than Miles, I can't find a single person who will even acknowledge that Zen Tropical Airways exists. - That's because it doesn't. Well, that stopped me in my tracks. - Zen Tropical Airways doesn't exist? I flew on it. - True. You did. But it doesn't exist. - . . . If you ever want a new career, try going to Egypt. You could get a job as a sphinx, because you're talking in riddles. - (a smile, oh, god, what a smile) There is an explanation, but I'm afraid it's going to be hard to believe. - After all I've been through the last few days, I think I'll believe about anything � if it's the truth. - It's the truth. The first thing I want to tell you is that Augie is alive. I stared at him for a solid ten seconds. - Don't play games with me, Mister Stimulever. - Sean. I'm not playing games. Augie Stapleton is alive and well. - I need a drink. You'd better not be lying. - I'll make you a drink. And I'll take care of your mini-bar tab. Two minutes later, on the sofa, whisky-and-soda in my hand, I was ready to resume. - So where is he? Did the plane get hijacked? Was this all some kind of government coverup? That must be it! That's why no one will say anything � it's some kind of secret CIA plot and they've squashed all the authorities at the airport, and in the press � - Jordan. It's not a secret plot. I will explain. It will be better if you just let me tell it, and don't interrupt, and then you can ask your questions, okay? - (not really, but oh god, that smile again) Okay. - The next thing I'm going to say is going to sound ridiculous, so brace yourself, but I swear to you it's the absolute truth. - Lay it on me. - . . . Augie is in a parallel universe. I don't know how he interpreted the look on my face. - Jordan? Are you okay? - Oh. My. God. - What? - Jen was right. - Excuse me? - Jen. My sister. She said it � Miles and I laughed. Stimulever � it's an anagram for `multiverse'. - Your sister is a very clever woman. That's exactly right. - You told me it was a family name. - Well, for security reasons I can't reveal my entire name. It's all very hush-hush. We've initiated a project � in fact, we call it The Project � which has created a second universe. We call it Betaworld, because it's a beta test. - And that's where Augie is? - That's where Augie is. - I don't know why, but I believe you. . . . Can you bring him back? - It's not that simple. Let me try to explain. When your plane took off from Miami, everyone on that plane was pulled into Betaworld, yourself included. You existed simultaneously in two different worlds, each of you unaware of the other one. When you arrived in Aruba, everyone on that flight was returned to Alphaworld � this world, the one you've lived in all your life. But some passengers on Flight 12, including Augie, remained in Betaworld, and ONLY in Betaworld. - What? What do you mean, only in Betaworld? - Flight 12 existed only in Betaworld, that's why no one here has the slightest idea what you're talking about. Zen Tropical Airways itself � exists only in Betaworld. For the duration of the test � until New Year's Day � Augie and others on Flight 12 will not exist in this world. No one will even remember them. - But that's crazy. I remember Augie. Miles remembers Vic. - Yes, that's where things went wrong. You were supposed to be pulled back into Alphaworld with no memory of your experience in Betaworld. You would remember this as a trip with your sister, who left on Tuesday and you stayed the rest of the week by yourself. You didn't wear drag because you didn't need to, because you only wore drag to please Augie, and you never met Augie. He wasn't on that plane. He never even existed. - How do you know about the drag? And when Jen left? And � - Miles King told me. But you slipped through a crack in the firewall. You arrived at Queen Beatrix still in Betaworld, where Flight 12 DID exist, and you and several others mourned the loss of those on board. By the time we pulled you back, you retained your memories of Betaworld. Not knowing it was a separate universe, you thought that Flight 12 and ZTA existed in this, Alphaworld. - But Jen - ? - Jen was too close to you to avoid getting sucked across along with you. Her memories of Augie are starting to fade, now that you are separated. They will fade altogether once we pull you into Betaworld completely. In fact, she won't even remember you. - Excuse me? She won't remember ME, her own brother? - It's the only way, Jordan. And believe me, it's for your own protection. - . . . You're scaring me, Sean. - Good. You need to be scared. Stimulever wanted me to take you out. Not take you out on a date, although I'd very much like to do that. Take you out � permanently. - Are you saying they wanted to KILL me??? - That's what they sent me here to do. You and Miles both. And Jen, and Miles's friend Nick who hacked Stimulever. The problem is that you and Miles and Jen have straddled both worlds. And that throws off the physics. But if I take you into Betaworld, you'll be safe there. Miles will be safe there. Jen's memory of this trip will be that she had four lovely days as a single traveler in Aruba. Nick � well, I'm not sure we can save Nick. - . . . Why do you work for these people? - They don't know it, but I'm working against them, Jordan. I'm trying to sabotage The Project. Your accidental crossing into Betaworld may just give me the tool I need to blow this thing sky-high. You're going to have to trust me. I need to take you there. - What about Miles? - Miles is already there. You can see him when you cross. - And Augie? - Augie is not in Aruba. We'll discuss that later. - I want to see Augie. I want to make sure he's alive. I mean � how can I be sure you're telling me the truth? I mean, this is all so fantastic. - But it's not inconsistent with what the last few days have been like, is it? - Well, no, I guess not. But a parallel universe - ? - There's only one way to find out, and that's to let me take you to Betaworld. - And if I don't � or if you can't - ? - My instructions from Stimulever were to `neutralize' you. That means, they want no evidence of your conscious being in Alphaworld. If you are dead, that will satisfy their demand. If you cross the border completely, you won't exist in Alphaworld. That will also satisfy their demand. - It's the only way? - It's the only way. - . . . How do we do this? - (smiling) It's remarkably like the Vulcan mind-meld on Star Trek. . . . Okay, ready? - Ready. - Here we go. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER NINETEEN � CROSSING JORDAN]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-43	Date: Thu, 6 Jun 2024 20:02:07 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 43 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER FORTY-THREE: MORE PERIL ABOVE GROUND Previously, at the Phallic Tower: * Seth, charged with removing three testicles, tells Jasper (who was bestowed with an extra testicle for Christmas) that they must all come from him. Jasper, aware that his full manhood is on borrowed time, engages in an all-body touch session with Gary. * Seth's choices for his daily fuck are now down to Jasper and Gary � as Jasper's birthday nears. * Sean, under a directive to provide proof of Stan's death, strangles and buries him. He gets Seth to distract Ian so that he could be alone with Stan, and Seth feels complicit in the murder. In flashbacks: * Jasper goes home with a sadist who threatens to beat him so severely that he can't let him survive to tell it to the cops. When he tries to escape, he is injected with a sedative and loses consciousness. * * * * * * * * FRIDAY, DECEMBER 28 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH Gary approached me this morning, all nervous � which was almost a redundancy. Gary � when Gary � was always nervous. - Seth, are you going to castrate Jasper today? Shit. He had this wounded puppy-dog look in his eyes. Jasper had told me, with pride, how he and Gary had spent nearly an hour exploring each other's nude bodies, including the parts between the legs, and that Gary had remained Gary the whole time. There were no orgasms, but hard-ons were prominently featured. I hoped Gary's experiencing this would translate into a willingness to have sex with me after Jasper had departed. Actually, I was hoping that Jasper wouldn't depart tomorrow (his birthday), but that was wishful thinking in light of past history. The dodecagons always managed to win. I looked him in the eye. - I have to, Gary. He nodded soulfully, and then smiled in an odd way. - Can I be there, Seth? I . . . Maybe it would help if I were there to hold his hand, like. This was rather surprising. - You want to . . . - Watch. Yes, Seth. Can I watch? No. This was wrong. And there was a glint in his eye when he said that, a glint that wasn't Gary at all. - . . . Ray? - (laughing) Damn, had you there for a while, didn't I? Pretty good imitation, wasn't it? - I wasn't aware that you could observe him. - Sometimes I can, when his defenses are down. Like last night, when he was running his hands over Jasper's hot body, I snuck in. I wasn't really there, it was more like watching a movie. But it was still hot. - And your request just now � - Oh hell, Sethy. I've never seen a man get his nuts snipped. Once in a lifetime experience. I mean, wow. - What do you think Gary thinks about this? - Who the fuck cares? So can I watch, Sethy? I'll pretend to be Gary; Jasper will never know, he'll think his wimpy friend Geh-wy is with him. - . . . Jasper will know, Ray. If I saw through you, Jasper will, too. - Don't you think Jasper would want somebody to hold his hand when he gets himself neutered? - Maybe � if it were actually Gary. Would you let him come out? - . . . Let me think on that. Who knows, this might be one of those times I can watch. I prayed that not be true. NEAR THE PHALLIC TOWER � SEAN I sent Hamish the pictures of Stan's corpse. The phone was still in my hand when he called me. - Why was he alive, Sean? I talked to Jes�s and Ari, and they're not buying the story that Stan survived the fall, washed out to sea, then swam onshore. The magenta portal he stepped on is on the opposite side of the island from those cliffs. It didn't make sense for him to be way over there. - Agreed. - You told me you pushed him and Theo off the cliff. - I only pushed Theo. Ian pushed Stan. Theo's dead, I can guarantee that. - You also said Stan was dead. - I thought he was. - Didn't you see Ian push him? - I saw Ian push him, but he was like fifty feet away from me. I couldn't see Stan's landing point from my angle. I heard him scream, I saw Theo's broken body on the rocks below, I assumed Stan was equally dead. - So either he survived and somehow got himself to the other side of the island � or Ian is lying. And Ian lied before, didn't he? - What do you mean? - He told you Stan was taken by a penis portal when he hadn't been. - True. - This is not good, Sean. - I'll talk to Ian and straighten this all out. - You'd better. Jes�s is not pleased. And Ari was apoplectic when he learned there was a survivor. Ari. If the Project failed, Jes�s was voted out, and Ari was voted in, he promised me I'd be his second-in-command. I can't afford to alienate Ari. Oh, Ian, how can I cover up for you now? FLASHBACK � SEAN (CLEVELAND) � October-December, last year Things in Minneapolis were going well; I was grooming Miles, building a relationship that would enable him to trust me so much that he would start dating Vic at my request. I'd chosen Miles because he was perfect for Vic and because he had a hacker friend, Nick, who could disrupt things Stimulever didn't want disrupted. So it was time to check on The Trigger, who was, of course, The Project's top priority. I couldn't monitor Seth directly, given our history, but I flew into Cleveland occasionally to check in with Paolo, whom Jes�s had charged with promoting a Seth romance that we could later threaten. Paolo was well-intentioned, but his choice of boyfriends, one Ian O'Leahy, didn't look too promising. Paolo had befriended Ian under the brand name of Jason, but had doubts that the Ian-Seth relationship would be strong enough to satisfy the physics. During the summer, I'd flown in to check him out for myself, introducing myself as `Jude', as I couldn't risk Ian mentioning the name `Sean' to Seth. Paolo had told Ian that I was a psychologist, and I asked him probing questions about the relationship. I realized that while Ian had been bottoming for Seth, his natural affinity was to dominate, making him suitable to become one of Hamish's lieutenants. And we needed someone from Seth's Alpha-life in Hamish's entourage. We'd tentatively slotted an old boyfriend named Ysidro for that role, but Ian would be better. Square peg, square hole � but we'd have to replace Ian as Seth's love interest. As `Jude', I became Ian's confidant, and implied, without being explicit, that I was interested in him sexually. The main thing was to emphasize his sexual incompatibility with Seth � but if Ian had a side option, it would make the break-up easier to accomplish. And he led me to the man who would replace him in Seth's life � his own former boyfriend Abe. Abe, he knew, was attracted to well-built men like Seth. His aversion to handcuffs notwithstanding, Abe was all bottom and liked to be dominated. A fit with Seth's natural inclinations. From what Ian had told me, Abe had the empathy and compassion that would allow the two of them to grow close emotionally. The gameplan became "out with Ian, in with Abe". I notified Switzerland of the change in targets for Seth's lover. I'd managed to persuade Ian that he needed to end it with Seth � and I flew in to make sure he followed up on that. The next item on the agenda would be to arrange for Seth to meet Abe. Since we knew that Seth frequented Studs and Stripes, we arranged for Abe to go there. We had a lot of repair work to do after the handcuff incident on the second date, but I got Ian to remedy this situation and `Jude' rewarded him with a discounted ticket to Martinique � on ZTA Flight 8. FLASHBACK � JASPER (NEW YORK) � July, two years ago (continued from Ch. 41) I woke up with the first stroke of the paddle against my bare ass. I was tied to the St. Andrew's cross, helpless in the tight restraints that exposed me to whatever Alec wanted to do to my body. And what he wanted to do was smash my ass with his paddle. Again and again and again. Until I was so damaged that I wouldn't survive the internal bleeding, and he'd have to kill me to keep me from running to the hospital and the cops. How stupid I'd been to go home with this guy. He'd advertised that he played `dangerous games'. And I hadn't arranged a safe call. I should have given Alec's address to a friend who would call 911 if I didn't report back by a certain time. A thing that serious bdsm aficionados know about, when `playing' with unfamiliar doms � but most don't do. They assume they can trust the man who is tying them up and inflicting pain. Most of the time they can. Unless you go home with a madman. Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! Whack! - There! That's sixty. You're 8% of the way there. I left out all the grunts, moans, yells, and screams that were interpolated between those sixty strokes of his fraternity paddle. He was not pulling his punches � he was swinging away at my posterior like Aaron Judge swinging for the fences. - But I'll offer you a choice. - If you're offering me a choice of how I'll die, make it quick. Or are you offering me a way out of this? - You can either have the remainder of the seven hundred fifty strokes, which would send you to the hospital and the cops � an unacceptable outcome which would require me to augment the contents of several dumpsters with your remains. I waited. - Or I'll take you down and let you go home after I do one thing. - You can fuck me. It's okay, you can fuck me. - That's a given. I'm going to fuck you either way. The thing I want to do is remove your balls. Had mobility been possible at that moment, I would have frozen. - Your balls or your life. You choose. The comedian Jack Benny pretended to be notoriously miserly. In one of his routines, he is held up by a mugger who demands "Your money or your life". Benny pauses for several seconds; when the mugger demands an answer, Benny replies petulantly, "I'm thinking, I'm thinking!" It was almost that kind of moment for me. My balls WERE my life. My entire concept of self-worth was concentrated in my ability to have sex with whomever I wanted whenever I wanted. Without sex, I was worthless. Without sex, was life worth living? Would ending my life be worse than living it as a eunuch? - If I say `kill me', would you do it quick? Shoot me in the head, something like that? - Are you serious? What fun would that be? No. If you're to wind up in separate body bags anyway, I think I'd use my machete. Piece by piece. - Do my head first. He walked around so that I could see his face � which was filled with astonishment. - You'd seriously prefer death to castration? - It's the same thing. You castrate me, it's like killing me. Only I'd have to live with it longer. - Wow, you really are a sex addict. Well, let me fuck you now, and I'll let you go. Did he just say - ? - I was just playing with you. Didn't you feel a thrill, though? I did say `dangerous games', I hope you enjoyed them. - Seriously � you're not going to kill me? - No. - You're not going to cut off my balls? - No. It's a fantasy; jail time is not something I want to contemplate. - You're just going to let me go. - Well . . . I AM going to fuck you first. You would have thought that episode would have cured me of my sex addiction. It didn't. But from then on, I was a little more selective about who I went home with. THE PHALLIC TOWER � JASPER - Are you ready? I sighed the sigh of all sighs. Could you ever be ready for something like this? - As ready as I'll ever be. - I have to do it today. - I know, my birthday's tomorrow and the dodecagon will get me like everyone else. - I hate to say this but that might be necessary to SAVE everyone else. - According to Sean. - According to Sean, yeah. I don't want to do it here. Let's go into the woods. - Seth? - Yeah? - Gary . . . This morning he offered to come with us. He said he'd hold my hand during it. - How did he say it? Did he ask if he could watch? - That's exactly what he said. I have to admit, he had this weird smile when he said it, almost as if � - Almost as if he was Ray? - Yeah. - That WAS Ray. He tried to pass himself off as Gary to me this morning, with the very same request. When I called him on it, he confessed he thought it would be hot to see a man get his nuts cut off. - That's sick. - Ray is sick. I don't know how those two can inhabit the same body, I swear I don't. - Okay, then let's just go, get it over with. I'm only sacrificing them for three days, anyway. - According to Sean. - Good ol' reliable Sean. We went into the woods and he did it. He didn't prolong it, made sure I was ready both physically and psychologically, and then in one quick motion, it was over. I thought I would be a bloody mess, but there wasn't that much blood. Seth explained that on this island some of our body functions, like aging, were slowed, so blood didn't flow as fast as it did in Alphaworld. Which would explain why none of us had grown beards after nearly a month without shaving. - What are you going to do with them now, Seth? Bury them? - Sean needs to take a picture of them. - A picture? He has a camera? - He has a phone. - Fuck! - He'll want to take a picture of these, and of your empty scrotum, to send to Hamish. - And then you'll bury them? - I have another idea � though you're probably going to hate it. - Tell me. He did. I hated it. THE PHALLIC TOWER � IAN I didn't sleep inside last night. I couldn't. There was someone whose absence I couldn't endure, and someone whose presence I couldn't abide. All those lovely nights with Stan's body next to mine. Then the difficult nights apart when he was hiding. And then finally � a Christmas present � we got to sleep together, body to body, on adjoining wedges. Having made love that afternoon, we didn't feel the need to repeat it that night, even in the supercharged eroticism of the island. It was enough to lie there, feeling him, smelling him, holding him, breathing him. The following night we sneaked out to do it in the meadow. That was sweet. It was also the last time. The very last time. The FINAL time, unless somehow we could get together in Alphaworld when this is all over. Last night Stan wasn't there. He would never be in the Tower again. And if Seth is right about Sean's role in Stan's disappearance, I was three wedges away from the most despicable man in the world. I had to leave. Not that I could sleep in the meadow. I lay awake, brooding. What if Seth was wrong? What if Stan HAD wandered into a penis garden? Maybe he was still alive. And Sean (alias Jude) and I had been friends � if he WASN'T responsible for Stan's death, then it was wrong to be this angry. Sean had clearly been crying when he came back from the expedition. Was that the reaction of a vicious murderer? But then why had Seth insisted on taking me with him to get water, and not let me go with Stan? Because he knew Sean was going to kill Stan. I had to have it out with Sean. I had to get the truth one way or the other. THE PHALLIC TOWER � JASPER - Are you okay? - Yeah. It's all right, Gary. It was the right thing to do. I think. - Did it hurt? - Of course it hurt, it was a knife. But it was over quick. And I didn't bleed like I thought I would. - That's good. . . . Jasper? - Yeah? - Thank you. - For what? - For letting me touch them. - Sexuality is more than just balls, Gary. It's about all of us � our bodies � and ourselves. It's all of it. That's why I wanted us to explore all of each other last night. And the last piece � the most important piece � is the brain. The emotion. The soul. - I think . . . maybe . . . I think you have my soul. I really like you, Jasper. More than just friends, I mean. Am I . . . do you understand? - I understand, Gary. I'll be honest � if we ever get out of here, I'd like to spend more time with you. But only with you. Not with . . . them. - I can't control that, Jasper. - I think maybe you can. But there's something else I want to ask you. - Anything, Jasper. - After I go � - Don't go! - Okay, let me say it this way. IF I have to go tomorrow, Seth still has to fuck someone. Would you be willing to be that someone? - Oh, gosh, Jasper. I've thought about that a lot � but with you, not Seth. - Unfortunately, I can't do that anymore. - I know. - Gary, I trusted Seth enough to take off my balls. You can trust him, too. - I . . . I'll think about it. - I can't fuck you, Gary, but I could give you a blow job. Would you like that? - Oh, god, yes, please. - Only don't let Ray take over. YOU deserve this orgasm, he stole it from you last time. I lowered my mouth to his penis and took it lovingly into my mouth. I lavished attention on it with my tongue, my lips, my mouth, my throat, my breath � and my soul. And when he grew excited and shuddered his orgasm, I let every ounce of his sweet juices cascade down my throat. If I couldn't ejaculate myself, this was the next best thing. NEAR THE PHALLIC TOWER � SEAN - Hamish. - Sean. Did you get the story from Ian? - (No.) Yes. Ian intentionally went to a spot some distance from me. There was a ledge a few feet below that Stan was able to land on, but I couldn't see it from my angle. Ian told him to scream so I would think he was falling to his death. He must have been able to climb back up. Ian told him to go to the west side of the island, because no one would look for him there. - This is extremely disappointing. - (This is a complete fabrication.) - Ian put his own personal love interest above doing his job. Despite the fact that Stan is still alive in Alphaworld. - You're sure he is. - We called his house. He answered. Apparently he doesn't need more insulation. - That's a relief. - But, about Ian � there will have to be consequences. - What kind of consequences? - I'll take care of it. Send him to me, Sean. THE PHALLIC TOWER � IAN - So be straight with me. That might be hard for you, Sean, because nobody trusts you, but I want an honest answer. Stan didn't get captured by a penis garden, did he? - No. - You killed him. - . . . I didn't want to, I had to. I cried my eyes out, afterwards. Surely you saw that. It wasn't fake. - You got Seth to take me on a water mission so you could kill Stan without my knowledge. - Don't blame Seth. He'd do anything to save Abe. It was necessary, Ian. - So you say. - It was. And Stan is still alive in Alphaworld � Hamish confirmed that. - In Alphaworld, he has no idea who I am. - You can make it work when you get there. I'll help you. Would you like to say goodbye? - Say goodbye? He's already dead. - I could take you to where I buried him. Maybe you could get some closure, Ian. Plant some flowers. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SEAN The `want to see his grave' ploy worked with Stan, why not try it again? THE PHALLIC TOWER - IAN Closure. Would it be closure to see where Stan was buried? Or would it just infuriate me further? I had to hold on to the prospect of seeing him in Alphaworld. Which was only three days away, if this so-called Project worked. (Which I still didn't understand, or why Seth was so important to it.) But what if I never found him in Alphaworld? I couldn't stand the idea of never seeing him again, not even seeing his grave. - Okay, I guess. No tricks? - No tricks. Here, put on one of my socks. We're going to have to pass a penis garden on the way. The sock will protect you. A reassuring good-faith gesture. THE MEADOW � SEAN We approached one of the penis portals � not the same one I'd led Augie to. Ian was relaxed � he was not drawn toward it. Fabric made you immune to its charms, even as little as a sock. - I buried him about fifty yards further on. We approached the penis portal, Ian smiling at how he could regard it with equanimity. He wasn't expecting me to tackle him and pull off his sock. THE MEADOW � IAN The murder had not occurred here. If Sean had taken Stan � who was nude � past here, the penis garden would have taken him, solving Sean's problem. He had led me here deliberately, with the intention of rendering me nude, and thus vulnerable. But these thoughts were too little, too late. Without the sock to protect me, I was helpless. The penis garden drew me inexorably toward that black phallus at the back center. I knew it was exactly what I should not do, but the damn thing was irresistible. I stepped onto the semi-circle and watched the little black penises spring out of the ground. THE MEADOW � SEAN I didn't watch; I didn't have to. Sounds told me exactly what was happening: Ian's startled cry as a dildo speared him and thrust him high into the air. His scream of agony when the dildo turned as hot as a flaming poker. The whooshing sound of the dildo racing past me, conveying its cargo underground. And then it hit me. Hamish had promised `consequences' when Ian returned underground. I had to make sure those consequences weren't fatal. Lieutenants, like The Twelve, had no Alpha-lives. If Hamish killed him now, Ian would have no opportunity to reunite with Stan in Alphaworld. I told Seth yesterday that I was not done being a villain. Here was the proof. For the second time in two days, I cried my eyes out. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH - (Jasper) Some good news about Gary. I gave him a blow job, and he stayed Gary all the way through. I asked if he'd submit to you and he said he'd think about it. I've stressed to him how much I trust you, and he's taking that to heart. - Thank you, Jasper. That means a lot to me. - I think . . . I'm not sure, but I think he might be ready for more than that. - What do you mean? - I think he's ready to take on Ray. It might be time for a showdown. Gunfight at the OK Corral, and I think Gary can win. If I'm gone, Seth, you need to help him do it. - Whoa, Jasper. That's a big ask. His psychiatrist couldn't do it, how could I? - The Gary/Cody/Ray split is all about sex. Gary is a bottom, Ray is a top, Cody's completely asexual. If this can be resolved anywhere, it's here. This island is all about sex, we've known that from the very beginning. - I'm wondering if we can't still protect you tomorrow. - The population is dwindling. Ian's gone now, you know. - Yes, I know. He returned underground. Voluntarily, according to Sean. - Voluntarily? Why would Ian choose to go back down? - I was always suspicious when he helped us escape � what was his motive? Sean says it was all part of a plan � they needed me to go back up to the surface, and enlisted Ian to get me there. He was serving as a sort of spy, and to make sure the dodecagons did their job. - Which they did, admirably � Harry, Vic, Tim, all on schedule. - But they think they've got Sean on their side up here, so they don't really need Ian anymore. - You don't think Sean is on their side? - I think Sean . . . is on Sean's side. - Do you think he's lying about Ian? - I haven't the foggiest idea. Probably. - On another topic, where are my testicles? Add that to the list of questions you never expect to hear even once in your life. * * * * * * * * SATURDAY, DECEMBER 29 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � GARY I dreaded this day: Jasper's birthday. All ten previous birthdays had resulted in somebody being captured by a dodecagon. I had only seen a dodecagon once � and just briefly. I hadn't seen it capture anybody though. It sounded scary, and I didn't want Jasper to have to go through that. I didn't want Jasper to leave. If he left, there would just be me and Seth and Sean. Ian was gone now, too � Sean said he went underground to work for that guy Hamish. He said Ian was only pretending to be on our side. I think Sean is pretending, too. I don't trust Sean. But I trust Jasper, and Jasper trusts Seth, so I trust Seth. If Jasper leaves, Seth won't have anyone else he can have sex with. There would be just me. There would be just me. Jasper was right � I had to stay in control. I had to be strong. And I had to take risks. - Seth. - Good morning, Gary. It is Gary this time, right? - Yes, of course. Do I look like one of them? - Ray tried to fool me yesterday, so I was just being sure. - Seth, I want to be your . . . you know, what you do every morning with Jasper and with other guys when they were here. - . . . Are you saying you want me to have sex with you? - Yes. In the ass, Seth, like you do with Jasper. - Gary � are you sure? Jasper's still here, I can � - Jasper won't be here tomorrow. Or maybe he won't. Anyway, if he's gone, I'll have to do it tomorrow, so I want to do it today. While Jasper's still here. He can . . . Seth looked at me funny. - Are you saying you want Jasper there? - It might help. It's . . . It's kinda scary for me. - I'll try not to make it scary, Gary. And Gary � keep the others out. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH I informed Jasper of Gary's offer to bottom for me and that he wanted Jasper there with him. He seemed surprised, then pleased, then worried. - If he wants me there, that means he's scared. - Of course he's scared, Jasper. He's about to confront a part of himself he's been avoiding his whole life. - . . . Maybe. - Maybe? - I don't know, Seth. There's a reason he split into three personalities, and two of them are gay. - Good point. Have you been to the latrine? - Yes. - We shouldn't need to do this now, but just in case, let me get you prepped. Bend over. Gary saw me sticking my fingers up Jasper's rectum and came over to inquire. - You're lubing him up? I thought you were doing me. - Just a precaution, Gary. In case we need it. - I'm not going to chicken out, Seth. I finished with Jasper and asked Sean to go for a walk. There was no reason for us to trundle off into the woods for privacy. Why move three people when you can move only one? And by staying near the Tower, we could keep Jasper safe. Who knows � maybe this was the day I improved my record against the dodecagons to 1-10. Sean agreed and made himself scarce. - Where, Gary? Inside, outside? - Oh. Outside, I guess. That's where you do everyone else, right? - We usually go into the woods, but I think the woods are too dangerous today. Why don't you just kneel down on the grass there on all fours. Or you can lie down if you prefer. He chose doggie style and got down on his hands and knees. - Now, Gary, I'm going to spit into my hands and rub it into your hole, okay. I'm going to do it several times because we don't have any other kind of lubricant here on the island. - I understand. Jasper put his finger there the other night, but he didn't go inside. - Well, I'm going to go inside. That's . . . kinda necessary. That made Gary giggle, which was a good sign. He smiled the first time my finger slid past his anus, and smiled even more when I swirled it around. - Oh, gosh, Seth, that feels good. - You like it? - I like it. I . . . I didn't think I would, I . . . well, it's not like . . . Not like what, I wondered, but I let the remark dangle. Several coatings later, he was well-lubed and I knelt behind him, letting him feel my cock against his ass. I felt him tense. - Okay, this is it. You feel the tip of my cock up against your hole. - Yeah. There was a little crack in his voice when he said that. - (Jasper) It'll be fine, Gary. You're doing great. You're going to like this, once he gets going. - Okay, Gary, here goes. When I go in, push out like you're taking a dump. It will make it easier. I entered him as gently as I could. He gasped and then moaned a series of oh-oh-ohs, as the pain of penetration sent waves of anxiety through his body. - Get used to the feel, Gary. Just let it sit there a while. Feel it fill you. Feel it love you. It's a good feeling, isn't it? Once you get used to it, it's almost comforting. - I . . . I guess so. It was a shock at first, but I'm getting used to it. I pushed in a little more. He gasped, and I let him absorb the pain before penetrating him further. Slowly, inch by inch, I eased in, and he started to relax. He was pushing out and I was getting in further until I was in all the way. - That's it. I'm all the way in, now. How does that feel? - Incredible. I'm surprised it's not . . . He didn't finish the thought. - Okay, I'm going to start fucking now. Each thrust is going to hurt but you're going to like it, too. I did, and he did. I made love to him as gently as I could. Jasper knelt down in front of him, whispering encouragement � I think Gary needed it at first, but then maybe Jasper's presence became embarrassing. - I'm okay, Jasper. You don't have to stay. I can do this myself. NEAR THE PHALLIC TOWER � JASPER I was so proud of Gary � he was accepting Seth's cock as if he cherished it, and had maintained his own persona throughout. When he asked me to leave, I got up and walked behind Seth, enjoying the view of his heaving buttocks as he drilled Gary from behind. I felt as if I was being fucked myself, my bowels feeling rather full. And when I turned around, there it was. Right in front of me, not thirty feet from the door of the Phallic Tower. The vermillion dodecagon. My dodecagon. The one I was destined to encounter on this, my birthday. I had heard that they could move, pop up in places where they hadn't been before, but I never expected one to materialize right by the Tower. I guess Stimulever knew I wouldn't venture into the woods today. All along, I'd been afraid of this moment, dreading the vermillion dodecagon. But now that I saw it, I didn't fear it. I knew I was supposed to go to it. I felt no fear, I only felt love. I felt love for that large vermillion phallus at one of the far corners. Behind me I heard Gary's grunts as Seth, oblivious to the appearance of my dodecagon, continued to push his cock up Gary's presumably virgin ass. And I rushed to embrace the phallus, hugging it for all I was worth, knowing that soon my feet would sink into the softening floor and I would feel a writhing presence crawling up my leg � and into my hole. And so I did. But I was a sex addict, after all, and I loved every minute of it, right up to the moment when the dodecagon collapsed and I fell into Hamishland. I found myself in a chair with a dildo up my ass, as I knew I would, from conversations with Augie after his escape. I waited there for an hour or so and then the door opened and the lights came on. I surveyed the situation: what the . . . ? [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR � MORE PERIL BELOW GROUND]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-8	Date: Sun, 11 Feb 2024 13:36:33 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 8 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER EIGHT: TRAPPED Previously: * While searching for food and other resources, tower residents encounter four more single-colored dodecagons. Three of them have no obvious effect on those who find them � but Tim tells Seth that, upon seeing the blue one, Paul took off all his clothes and attempted to kiss Dai. Earlier, a yellow dodecagon had prompted asexual Cody to morph into randy gay Ray. * Harry meets Gary, the third personality residing in the same body with Cody and Ray. Gary is utterly perplexed at his sudden appearance in an unfamiliar surrounding; Harry doesn't know how to begin to explain to him what has happened. When Gary attempts to leave the tower to urinate, he tells Harry that he can't � there is no longer a handle on the door. * Stan, having been captured by a `penis portal', arrives underground and meets Barry, the plane's pilot, who's been subjugated by Hamish, the apparent ruler of the space. Barry says he will escort Stan to his `cell'. * In a flashback, Seth attempts to repair the situation after his disastrous second date with Abe. He is assisted in this endeavor by his friend (and former boyfriend), Ian. * * * * * * * * SATURDAY, DECEMBER 1 * * * * * * * * UNDERGROUND � STAN Barry picked a corridor and we started walking. - You'll have a roommate. - Al? - No one you know. He arrived on a previous flight. - A previous flight. - I didn't fly that one. Just Flight 12, I swear. - I'm confused. - Undoubtedly. But don't ask me, I'm still learning the ropes here. Ah, here we are. He opened a door and I walked inside. Until I opened the door, the building had looked more like a hospital or a school than a prison. That changed when I saw my living quarters. There were exactly four items inside the room, and barely room for all four. There was a bed � one bed, not two and not bunk beds like you saw in prison movies, though it was wide enough to sleep two. There was a standard-issue prison toilet. There was a sink. And there was a man, as naked as I was. I faced my new roommate. Having seen too many prison films, I was relieved that he wasn't physically intimidating. He was older than me � upper twenties? � with a mop of light brown hair. There was a steeliness about him that said he wasn't going to be pushed around, but he didn't look hostile. I extended a hand in friendship and we introduced ourselves. - Hi. Stan Kowalczyk. - Ian O'Leahy. - Where you from, Ian? - Cleveland. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH Dai confirmed Tim's account of Paul's wild attempt to seduce him, and that, after separation from the blue dodecagon, Paul had immediately reverted to the normal-acting guy he had seemed to be all day. I saw Harry talking with Augie and looking like he was trying to catch my eye. But a moment later Harry was with Ray and he waved me off. Afterwards, he came over to talk to me. - I just met Gary. - What? - Yeah. According to Augie, they ran into one of those granite dodecagons, a violet one. Augie said Ray suddenly shut down and was quiet all the way back. I was just talking to him and he's switched personalities again. He's Gary now, and Gary is one confused puppy. - Well, I guess he would be if he hasn't been around since � when? Miami? Before Miami? - He didn't remember a plane flight at all. I think he's the original person, Seth. He's shy, he's scared, the total opposite of Ray. - Like someone who's been traumatized in the past, and needed to create two more confident personas to compensate for it. - Exactly. He kinda went overboard with Ray. Cody's the real defense mechanism. Cody's straight, or maybe asexual, he's taciturn, doesn't need anyone else, just wants to run his ranch and be left alone. - But Ray's too powerful to let Cody dominate. - Yeah. I think Gary's the weakest personality of the three. But not altogether there. He said he tried to go outside to piss but said the door didn't have a handle. - That's nuts. Of course the door has a handle. We've been using it all . . . Harry? - Yeah. - He's right. The door doesn't have a handle. - Huh? How can it have a handle and then not have a handle? - Look at it. There's no handle. No knob, nothing to open the door with. - Then how are we going to get outside? - I don't know. At which point the lights went out. It instantly became pitch black inside the phallic tower. Now it had been curious to me all along why we had been able to see inside the tower at all, there being no windows and no light fixtures. But there must have been something � some creative kind of lighting in the walls themselves, because it just switched off. The floor was still lit, but slowly fading. As if to say, find your place to sleep now, before the light goes out altogether, or you'll be stumbling all over each other. - I guess it's time for bed. - Dream of doorknobs. We've got to be able to leave this place in the morning. I thought, I'll never fall asleep. My mind was swimming with a dozen things to worry about � how we were going to exit the tower, how we were going to get food, where we were going to crap, how we were going to get off the island, how to deal with a man with three personalities, why there were fragments of multiple planes on the island, why all the occurrences of the number twelve, what the fuck those dodecagons meant, why the map corresponded with the cities we were from � and, oh yeah, for good measure, it wasn't firmly established that we were actually alive. And whether or not I'd ever see Abe again. * * * * * * * * SUNDAY, DECEMBER 2 * * * * * * * * THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH To my surprise, I slept soundly. When I woke up, the walls of the phallic tower exhibited a dim light � did that mean it was daytime? There were no windows, we couldn't see outside. I took a quick glance over to the door. No door handle. Shit. All around me were figures stretched out in various poses on the floor, covering most of the pizza-slice dodecagon, which, like the walls, was now also lit. Gary, I noticed, was peacefully reposed entirely within the yellow wedge. There was one exception to the unconscious state of my fellow travelers: a large body huddled against the wall, looking contemplative: Harry. - (whispering, so as to not wake the others) Good morning. He got up from his seat, threaded his way through the sleeping forms spread out on the floor and joined me. He put his hand on my shoulder. - You okay? - Well, I'm rather pissed that I don't see a handle on the door. - That all that's bothering you? - Isn't that enough? - For me, yeah. But you . . . I noticed him looking at my bare chest. My bare chest? Where was Ed's weskit? And where were Augie's briefs? Once again, I had awakened in the nude. - Fuck. - You hadn't noticed? - No. How did � well, where are they? - Two possible answers to that question, Seth. One: they're here, somewhere hidden in this room, which, since we can't see them, would mean they'd have to be underneath someone's sleeping body. Two: they're nowhere. - How can they be nowhere? - How can a door that had a handle not have a handle? - Magic. - Our very survival is magic, Seth. This whole place is magic. Or something . . . else. Clearly we are under the influence of a higher power. I mean, I'm not religious, but � - This is not the work of a Christian God. - No. - And I don't believe in Satan. - Nor do I. - Aliens from outer space? - (Harry smiled.) "I didn't ask for the anal probe." - Huh? - Quote from a 90's movie called "Passion Fish". Of course, anal probes are a motif in alien abduction scenarios, aren't they. - You think we're on another planet? Or, in some kind of giant alien laboratory where they're conducting experiments on us connected to nudity and phalluses? - Not really. But it makes as much sense as anything else. - So, like some aliens zapped our plane and transported us to their own world or some environment they created in space. Maybe it's like the holodeck on the Star Trek series � it looks like a real world, but it's actually just in a small space on their spaceship. Is that what you think? - No. Seth, really, no, I don't. But whatever it is, it's supernatural. We can't have survived that crash, and your clothes can't simply have vanished. And all these twelves are not coincidental. Like a bad fifties movie: "Invaders from the Twelfth Dimension". - Is that a real movie or did you make it up? - I made it up. But what IS real? We're pawns in somebody else's game. Ever see that old Twilight Zone episode where a soldier and a ballerina and such are trying to escape from a giant cylinder, and it turns out they're really dolls in a barrel? Maybe it's � to cite the punch line of an old joke � maybe it's our turn in the barrel. - We're not dolls, Harry. We're real people. - They thought they were, too. . . . Oh, hell. - Those are words rarely followed by good news. What? - Look at Paul. Paul was on the far side of the room, behind Vic, whose hulking body blocked most of my view of Paul. I had to stand to see him. Paul was dressed in a jockstrap. And nothing else. FLASHBACK: PAUL (RICHMOND) - September, ten years ago - Hey, for such a little guy, you got a big dick, doncha? - Leave me alone, Anthony. - That jockstrap doesn't hide it, you know. - Anthony, leave me alone. I'm going to tell Mr. Burke. - You're going to tell the big bad gym teacher that your cock is big for your size? - No, I'm going to tell him that you're . . . - I'm what? - Bothering me. - `Mister Burke, help! Anthony is giving me compliments.' Is that what you mean? - You call that a compliment? - What do you call it? - Sexual harassment. - Whoa. Big words, dude. Somebody been sending you to Feminism school? - Gay people can be sexually harassed, too. - Ah, so you're gay. - (turning red) I didn't say that. - You didn't say, `Men can be sexually harassed, too.' You said `gay people'. Fess up, Paul. - Well, if you're so obsessed with my dick, you must be the one who's gay. - You say that like it's a bad thing. - It's. . . well, no, I don't mean that. It's . . . - So it's a good thing. - I don't mean that either. I mean, everybody has the right to be � - Make up your mind � good thing or bad thing? - People should just be who they are. - And who are you, little man? Little man with the big dick? Do you want my lips around that dick? - No! - Or do you want to wrap YOUR lips around MY big dick? - Anthony, go away. - Is there a reason why you're always the last to get changed? Why even now, when everyone else has left the locker room, you still haven't showered? Why you like to shower alone? - Maybe . . . maybe I'm shy, okay? - Shy? Or are you afraid that big boy would spring to life when you're in the shower with all those other naked bodies? - No. - All those bare, unclothed, nude, stark naked hot sexy bodies full of muscles and shapely asses and big thick cocks and huge delicious balls and thick pubic hair and � - Stop it! - I'll stop it when you admit you're gay. - Okay, I'm gay, all right. Yes, I'm fucking gay. - I thought so. By the way, little man, I'm not so interested in your oversized cock. I'm more interested in the part your jockstrap doesn't hide. And then he reached behind me and slapped my ass, hard. - Oh, and here's something you might find interesting. Mister Burke is gay, too. - You're lying. - Am I? Maybe I have personal proof of that. Highly personal. Speak of the devil. Mr. Burke walked in just then. - (Burke) What are you two still doing here? Eton, aren't you showered yet? You're going to be late to your next class. - I have study hall. Ms. Lloyd doesn't care if we're late, as long as we show up. - Get in the shower now or I won't give you a pass. Mr. Burke left the locker room. I waited for Anthony to leave, but when he lingered I gave up, yanked off my jock and headed for the showers, praying he wouldn't follow. He didn't, but continued to talk to me from the changing area while I stepped under the shower heads. - Burke'll give you a pass. He might even make one � get it, make a pass? - Wow, that was so goddamned clever. No wonder you get all A's. Oh, wait � you don't. - The only A I want is followed by a couple of S's. - You have as much chance of that as you have of getting 100 on a chemistry test. - Someday I'll give YOU a chemistry test. Like we might have chemistry together, dude. I turned on the hot water, as much to create noise as to clear the sweat from my body after a vigorous workout in gym class. When I didn't hear anything, I thought Anthony had left, but a moment later I saw him poking his head around the corner. - This conversation isn't over, Paul. But it was for the moment and he left. I grabbed the soap and lathered my body quickly as I considered what had just happened, grateful that I was alone. Even more grateful when I got an erection. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH - Maybe he was uncomfortable. Lots of people sleep in the nude. - How many sleep in a jockstrap? We walked over to where Paul was sleeping. I looked at his nearly-naked form and a surge of energy shot through my balls. God, his body was so like Abe's. It wasn't obvious yesterday because he was wearing such loose clothing, obscuring the contours of his body. His very sexy body. I had to be careful. Being nude meant there was no hiding any physical attraction that manifested itself below the waist. My cock did twitch, which Harry noticed but was too polite to comment on. I examined the area around Paul. There was no evidence of his baggy T-shirt or sweatpants. Could they be under his body? He was too small for that. Worse � where were his shoes? He was definitely wearing shoes last night. - (Harry) So Paul gets to wear a jockstrap, but you have to go the full Monty. They've gone out of the way to make you naked � twice. You've been chosen in some way. I hate to say this � maybe it's because of Abe. They chose you because of your passion for Abe, or else they separated him from you because they chose you. - Whoever `they' is. - Cody would say it's the Deep State. I looked over at "Cody", asleep on the yellow wedge. - I wonder who he'll be when he wakes up. - Gary, I hope. He's the only one I like. But back to Paul. He lost most of his clothing; you lost it all. They're singling you out, and then him, but not quite so much? Is he supposed to be, like, your second in command? - If anyone fills that role, it's you, Harry. - Well, trust me, no one's going to strip me naked. It would gross everyone out. - Stop that. There are lots of guys who would find you attractive. - Not in the real world. - Yes, in the real world. - Do you? Do you, Seth? Find me attractive. - . . . I have a boyfriend. - Nice dodge, but understood. I asked an unfair question, put you on the spot. Sorry. So, topic du l'heur � Paul. Any ideas? - Yes, actually, though not one that makes much sense. - I think we have to stop searching for things that make sense. Proceed. - There was an incident yesterday. Tim and Paul and Dai found a dodecagon, a blue one. Apparently Paul jumped on it, tore off his clothing and tried to kiss Dai. They pulled him off it and he got normal, looked horribly embarrassed, and didn't say a word until they got back here. - Another sexual reaction to a dodecagon. Like the yellow one made Cody go berserk. - Exactly. - Seth. - Yeah? - Look where Paul is sleeping. On the blue wedge. Like Cody is sleeping on the yellow wedge. - You think there's a significance to that particular color? - Maybe. Or maybe he's just wired to go crazy in blue. He took off all his clothing? Not just down to his jockstrap? - . . . Shit. - What? - Dai provided quite a detailed description of what happened. I remember him saying very distinctly, `And then he took off his boxers and was completely naked.' - His boxers. - His boxers. He wasn't wearing a jockstrap. - Well, he's wearing one now. FLASHBACK: PAUL (RICHMOND) � September, ten years ago (continued) - Need a ride home? - No. - Your house is on my way. - You know where I live? - I know a lot about you. Are you afraid to get in the car with me? - (Yes.) No. - Then come on, get in. I'm not going to bite you. I hesitated. Mom usually picked me up from school, but today she had to work late. It would take me almost forty-five minutes to walk. Versus less than ten minutes in a car. I guess I could put up with ten minutes of Anthony to get home in time to watch as much as possible of the Nats' game. They had an afternoon game on the west coast, 4:05 on the east coast. It was four o'clock now. I got in. - That is, unless you WANT me to bite you. - The only reason I got in this car, Anthony, is because I know if you're driving you can't do anything. - (smiling) I can drive one-handed. And with my other hand, I can do this. He reached over and tried to grab my crotch, but I swiped his hand out of the way. He laughed. - Playing hard to get? I didn't want to admit it, but Anthony's brawny black body was a major turn-on. I'd stood there in the shower the other day thinking about him � and that's when I got the erection. And dammit if I wasn't getting one now. I closed my eyes. If I concentrated hard enough, my erection would fade before he spotted it. I thought about covalent bonds � anything academic like chemistry was sure to distract me. With my eyes closed, I had no idea what Anthony was thinking or doing, or if he was even looking at me. But he was quiet, and that was an enormous relief. If I heard his voice, it might remind me of how much I lusted after him. After a couple of minutes, my nether regions safely under control, I felt us slowing down. I opened my eyes. We were pulling into a driveway. Not my driveway. - This isn't my house, Anthony. - Yeah, I know. I got it backwards. Your house isn't on my way. My house is on the way to yours. Anthony got out, swung around the front of the car and opened my car door like a chauffeur. I sat there resolutely, securely strapped in. - I'm not moving. Take me home, Anthony. The Nats' game is already starting, I want to get home in time for the second inning. - I have a TV. He reached in, disengaged the seat belt and put his arms on either side of my body. He lowered his face to about three inches away from mine, and smiled. - I'll take you home, Paul. Just have a beer with me first. We can watch the game here. - If I'm not home in half an hour, my mom will � - Never know. Your mom is working until 5:30. She won't get home until at least 6:15, later if the traffic's bad. The games move faster now with the pitch clock; we can catch a good five, six innings and listen on the radio when I drive you home. I'll get you home by six, easy and you'll be up to date on the Nats if she asks. - How the fuck do you know she's working until 5:30? She'd actually told me she'd be home `late', but I hadn't mentioned that to Anthony. - (a big grin) She works for Amazon, right? - How do you know that? - My dad's her boss. He told me he had a late staff meeting. Your mom will be at that meeting. Oh, shit. Her boss was named Johnson, and so was Anthony. And mom's boss was Black, and Anthony was Black . . . - Come on in, the game's already started. My dad said he won't be home until eight, sometimes he works out after work, tonight's one of those nights. The Nats were already behind San Diego, three to nothing, by the time we got inside. Anthony had gotten us both beers, which was a rare pleasure. When I'm with my dad, he sometimes lets me have a beer, but I'm only with him one weekend a month. Mom would have exploded if she'd caught me with one. I took a few sips of the beer as the Nats seemed to be starting a rally. - What kind of beer is this? It seems strong. - (laughing) You don't drink much beer, do you, Paul? Not used to it? - It just seems really strong. Maybe I shouldn't � - What, are you a wuss? Tell you what, you can stop after just one. But you've got to chug it. - No, that's crazy. - I'll chug mine, too. It'll be a contest. If you win, I'll take you home right now. - And if you win? - I get to kiss you. - For serious? - I'm serious. You want me, Paul. You think I didn't see your hard-on in the car? The sad truth was that I did want him. But � - And if I win, you'll take me home. Right now. Hands off, just put me in the car and drive me home. - Yep. It was probably my only means of escape. I lifted the mug. - Cheers. And down it went. And then I passed out. I wasn't sure how long I was out, but the first thing I heard was: - Ever hear of chloral hydrate, Paul? - Chloral . . . - You say I'm bad at chemistry. It's a chemical, Paul. You know what chloral hydrate is used for? - Not a . . . clue. - It's the active ingredient in a Mickey Finn. There was chloral hydrate in your beer, Paul. That's why you passed out. - Are you taking me home? - Oh, no, Paul. Not yet. You see, I won the bet. I get to kiss you. For starters. - What time is it? - It's about 5:30. We have plenty of time. Your mom won't be home until eight. She called and left a message on your phone. You see, my dad isn't at the gym. He's fucking your mom in some hotel room. That's what's been happening every time your mom works late. Your mom, my dad. Who knows, maybe they'll get married. Then we'd be stepbrothers. Would you like that, Paul? - . . . What the fuck? - Oh, did you just notice? My head was still spinning, and it had taken me that long to notice. My chest was bare, and so were my legs. When I looked down, I was wearing only one item of clothing � a jockstrap. I was still wearing that jockstrap when I lost my virginity minutes later. THE PHALLIC TOWER - HARRY Someone else woke up: Dai, the Japanese-American whom Paul had attempted to kiss. Paul, in his jock, continued to be fast asleep; the light was still dim and Seth's total nudity was not obvious, although he was clearly bare-chested. Dai didn't notice Seth, but took immediate notice of Paul's state of undress, and shook his head. - (Dai) Maybe the guy's a closet nudist. - Not exactly. - Though I have to say he's hot. You wouldn't have guessed it from those baggy clothes, but, man, look at that ass. - I know. - You like it, too. - (Damn, it just slipped out.) - (Dai, smiling) It's okay, man. I had you figured. Did you have me figured? - Well, you know you Asians are inscrutable. A risky joke that actually made Dai smile. Then a puzzled look came over his face. - But where did Paul's clothes go? I don't even see his shoes. - Dai, I think � - And who gave him that jock? He wasn't wearing one yesterday, and believe me, I saw exactly what he was wearing, every layer of it. - It's time to face some hard facts. We're in some kind of supernatural environment. Paul's clothes have disappeared, and instead he's wearing a jockstrap. Seth's naked for the second morning in a row. And the door handle disappeared. We can't get out. - We can't get out? Man, that's fucked. - Everything on this island is fucked. - Have you tried to get out? - Without a doorknob, what's the point? - I mean we should at least try. I followed Dai as he walked over to the door, trying to wedge his fingers in the gap between the door and the wall, even though it was less than a quarter-inch wide. Then he stopped, stooped, and picked up something. - What's this? A piece of paper had been slipped under the door. As I got closer, I could see that it was, in fact, an envelope. The writing on the envelope was in elegant script. It said, "Lee S. Herrick". [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER NINE � PAST MEETS PRESENT]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-42	Date: Sun, 2 Jun 2024 14:36:58 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 42 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER FORTY-TWO: PERIL BELOW GROUND Previously, Underground: * The bottoms are subjected to a day-long orgy on Christmas Day, after which Piers is executed. * Abe learns that he, Jordan, and Miles are all slated to die by the end of the month. * Barry, given permission to fuck `anyone' except Abe, fucks Augie in front of Jordan; Jordan asks if `anyone' includes virgins. * After encountering an amorous Vic, Miles, who had been stringing Vic along under Sean's direction, reconsiders his relationships with each of them. * Dai and Paul, concerned that they'll never find each other in Alphaworld, decide to ask if each other's names can be tattooed onto their bodies. [Author's Note: Chapter 41 covered the two days after Christmas on the surface. This chapter will cover the same period underground.] * * * * * * * * WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 26 * * * * * * * * JORDAN'S CELL � JORDAN Every moment of the orgy was burned into my brain � every penetration, every pounding, every stroke of the cane or strap, every yell, every scream, every gasp, every fluid ounce of semen squirting into my anal canal. Yet after all that, I was completely uninjured this morning. Such was life in Hamishland. Barry dropped by for a morning fuck, or so I thought. No such luck, though he promised to try to work in a punishment session later. Given his newly-granted freedom to use anyone and everyone he wanted, he wanted to sample the full menu � today's agenda included Ed, Tim, and maybe Augie as well � he really liked fucking Augie. - What about Harry? - What ABOUT Harry? - You said you were allowed to fuck anyone but Abe. - I did. I am. - And I asked `even a virgin?' You never answered that question. - . . . - Harry wasn't part of the orgy, was he? - He was there. He watched. - All Harry wants in this world is to lose his virginity. So how about it? Add him to your shopping list. - Jordan, there's a reason he was left out yesterday. - I repeat. You were told `anyone', right? Anyone you wanted, as long as it wasn't Percy's pet. - That's what Hamish said. - So that includes Harry. - . . . It would seem to. Technically. - I know he's overweight, Barry. But his ass is as fuckable as anyone else's. And bound to be tight. - Nice and tight, true. - And you'd have the notch on your belt that said `I deflowered a virgin'. - Oh, I already have several of those notches. But, yeah, it's always a pleasure to take a cherry. Even if they want it taken. - So . . . ? - I'll get back to you. THE DORMITORY � HARRY - So despite what they did yesterday, I'm completely fine today. - That's how it works down here, Tim. - Does my butt look normal? When I went to bed, it was so sore. I thought it would be bruised for months. But now I don't feel a thing � are there marks on it at all? - Not a one. - Yours looks completely normal, too. - Oh, my ass never looks completely normal. But no, there are no marks on it. I . . . didn't go through what you guys did. - What? You weren't raped all day? - Not once. They want to keep me a virgin. I guess because I'm so pure and saintly. The Virgin Harry - they'll be erecting chapels in churches for me soon. - That's sacrilegious, Harry. - Sorry. But I've been exempted from � I was interrupted in mid-sentence by the appearance of Uri, my personal lieutenant and non-tormentor. - (Uri) It's time for the milking. - (Tim) You get milked? - No. I watch Dai get milked. I do clean him up afterwards, though. I suppose that's something. FUCK ROOM A � DAI They strapped me up, ready to start the machine. We were just waiting for Harry to arrive to witness my humiliation � and further his. Poor Harry. He wanted so badly to be fucked � and they wouldn't do it. Given my unique ability to produce an extraordinary amount of sperm, the first two milkings were intensely pleasurable, despite the fact that it was hard metal and not a human mouth, hand, or rectum coaxing the jizm from my cock. The third was more of a strain but still pleasurable. After that, the chafing got painful. I was capable of cumming seven times, but the last milking rubbed my cock so hard I thought the skin would come off � and the output wouldn't fill the tiniest measuring spoon. After each orgasm, Harry would lap up the white cream from wherever it fell, unless it was on my cock � THAT he was not allowed to touch. I waited until the Mayer brothers � Patrick, Lander, Xander, and Dane � had detached me from the milking machine before making my request. I decided to approach Lander. - Remember the tattoo you guys gave me? - Do I! It was beautiful. A shame you got it removed. - If it makes you feel better, the removal was not pleasant. - Great. Thanks. - Can you still do tattoos? Down here? - What � you want it back? At this point, Lander's brothers got interested. - Do you have the equipment? - (Patrick) We could probably get it. - (Xander) You want your tattoo back? - Not the same one. Do you do requests? - (Dane) Actually, Patrick, I don't think we could get tattooing equipment. Patrick and Lander looked at him with a `Whatchu talkin' `bout, Willis?' kind of expression. But Xander was smiling. I saw him mouth something to the other brothers, then they, too, started to smile. - (Xander) The bottom line is, you want something written on your body. - Yes, but not kana telling the world that I'm a champion cocksucker. - (Lander) What do you want it to say? - I want it to say `Paul Eton Richmond" inside a heart. And I want Paul to have one that says `Dai Omi, San Fran' inside a heart. So that we can find each other back in Alphaworld. - (Patrick) You want a permanent message. - Yeah. One that will last beyond Betaworld. - (Patrick) We'd have to get approval. But if headquarters says okay, we could do that. Only, like Dane says, it wouldn't be a tattoo. - I don't understand. What else would it be? - (Dane) A brand. THE DORMITORY � ED - Bend over, Ed. That wasn't Mac's voice. I turned around, wondering who was ordering me about this time. And was astonished to find it was Hamish's slave, the one usually seen walking around on all fours with a puppy-dog tail protruding from his bum. This poofter was no position to tell ME what to do. - Don't be ridiculous. You're Hamish's bloody poodle. - More like a Rottweiler. A horny Rottweiler who wants to hump more than your leg. - Ha. A Rottweiler who takes it up the ass from his Master. - Sometimes. But not so much since he gave me free rein to fuck anyone I choose. And I choose you. - You're choosing a forty-nine-year-old man when there's a twenty-year-old available. - Oh, I've fucked Augie already, and I'll do him again. But I haven't fucked you yet. Besides, you're not that far from my age. - Come off it, pooch. You have no authority over me. - If you doubt my authority, ask Hamish. Of course, I could tell him you refused and see what he does. He might decide to create father-and-son jockstraps, a limited edition. - He needs to keep me alive. - Does he? He didn't keep Leo alive. - This is an alternate universe, and it's ending in five days. Go ahead and kill me, I won't be dead for long. That's the only thing keeping me going, knowing that Leo is still alive in the real world. - Oops. - What do you mean, `oops'? - Didn't they tell you, Ed? The Twelve don't exist in Alphaworld anymore. This is the only existence you've got. - Are you saying that Leo is � - Dead, yeah. Really and permanently dead. I understand it's a blow, but everybody agrees he was a little shit, anyway. What did you call him? A nancy boy. - Leo is really . . . - And you will be, too, if Hamish decides that you're a head too tall. So unless you want to risk a date with an axe, bend over and take what's coming to you. Which, you can see, is quite large. But at least I won't knock out your teeth afterwards. What could I do? I bent over the bed and let the ruddy Rottweiler roger me. ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND � JES�S Germ�n entered my office. - (Germ�n) Just got a transmission from the island. An odd request. Branding equipment. - Branding equipment? Sounds like fun. What prompted that? - Believe it or not, Omi. He wants to be tattooed. But Dane had the bright idea of saying they couldn't tattoo him, but they could brand him. - I'd imagine that would talk him out of it. - It didn't. He agreed. - Why? What's so important that he wanted it permanently on his body? - His lover's name. He's afraid he'll get back to Alphaworld and they won't know each other. - What does Hamish think? - He's heartily in favor. And he thought of a way to make it humiliating as well as painful. - Excellent. Have Falcon program in some equipment for them to use. MILES'S CELL � MILES Piers is dead. His last day on earth � or, at least, on Beta-earth, and how did he spend it? Being fucked and beaten for twelve hours. And then, late last night, beheaded. When Al, Stan and Theo escaped, I was so glad for them. Down here, they were doomed to castration and execution. Al had escaped too late to avoid castration, but at least he was alive. Or so I hoped � the fact that the three of them had been up top for nearly two weeks without being recaptured was a positive sign. Unfortunately, that was bad news for the rest of us. Damaso, Arif, and now Piers had met the knife � and the axe. Piers was the last of the left-siders, aside from Seth's boyfriend Abe, who was apparently special and needed to be kept alive for something yet to come. Which meant that if the need arose to execute a left-sider, there were no left-siders left. There were, however, myself and Jordan. The interlopers, whom I had unwittingly � stupidly � entangled in this mess, through my association with Sean. Since Vic's appearance underground, my relationship with him had changed drastically. I had only dated Vic at Sean's instigation. I was so wrapped around Sean's little finger � and his middle leg � that I was putty in his hands. Date Vic, sure. Pretend to be his boyfriend, sure. Use the secret `beetscrew' search engine to `discover' Stimulever and enable my friend Nick to hack them, sure. Sean claimed that Stimulever was evil and needed to be brought down. Their website was inaccessible except to an expert hacker � like Nick. When Sean discovered that Jordan knew about Flight 12, he told me to involve Jordan in the attempt to pressure Stimulever. I thought I was doing good. Now I realize that he was part of Stimulever � and this was very confusing. Was he working against Stimulever while also working for them? Some kind of double agent? It was becoming clear that my relationship with Sean was a fraud. He didn't really love me, he was using me. The man who truly loved me � and was worth loving back � was Vic. If I got back to Alphaworld, I was going to move in with him. But that was a big if. My principal source of news is Jordan � whose principal source of news is Barry, who's infatuated with Jordan and enjoys beating the hell out of him. Today, Jordan informed me that, given the absence of remaining left-side passengers, he and I were slated for castration when the next two Twelve members arrived, on the 29th and the 31st. Execution to follow subsequently. He didn't know which of us was to go first. And, because Sean had removed us from Alphaworld, our Beta-lives were all we had. Which meant that unless something changed, we'd both be dead by New Year's Eve. I got confirmation this evening directly from Barry � while he was plowing the shit out of me. THE THRONE ROOM � ABE Yesterday, I'd been everybody's pussy. I couldn't believe that, after that twelve-hour marathon, I'd wake up completely undamaged this morning. How many cocks had gone up my ass? How many blows had my buttocks absorbed? And here I was, feeling bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Until I thought about Seth. Last Christmas we'd not really known each other, but we'd spent it together, both of us distant enough from our parents to not want to spend it with them, even though Seth's were barely an hour away in Sandusky. We'd made sweet love and given each other gifts. How had Seth spent this Christmas, I wondered. He was up there with two past lovers � Ian and Sean. In the presence of such temptation, was he celibate? I always sensed that part of Seth was still in love with Sean. Maybe Sean would use his charms to sway Seth back to him. He was smooth, that was for sure. He had been smooth with me. I had known all along that sleeping with Sean was wrong. And I can't believe that I let him charm me into cheating on Seth that last time � November 23rd, the night of the Pearl Jam concert. By then, I knew that Sean was not a good man and that Seth was. The moment that crystalized that realization had occurred less than two weeks earlier. I was in Sean's apartment at the time. FLASHBACK: SEAN (CLEVELAND) � November 11, this year Things were going well with Abe. He was open about both his feelings for Seth and his guilt over cheating on him. The relationship with Seth was strong, which we needed, and there was tension, which we also needed. I had to be careful to be a distraction and not more than that. I couldn't be someone he fell in love with. I had to be � not quite an asshole, but not a prince either. The opportunity to be a bit of an asshole came when he was with me, stripped to his skivvies, about to go the full Monty � and his phone rang. I saw him glance at it, assuming he would ignore it � who takes a phone call when they're moments away from sex? But then he lurched to pick it up and walked out of the room, wanting privacy. Seth? He returned, minutes later, to gather his clothing. - Sorry, can't do this. - What's wrong? - That was my mother. She wants me to come home. - To Indiana? - It's my father. He's going downhill fast. - You hate your father. - This might be the last time I see him. - Like you care? He treated you like shit the last time you saw him. - He's still my father, Sean. I have to go. - Well, then go, if you really want to. But . . . think about what you're missing. With that, I grabbed my cock and waved it about. A bit of crassness to add into the lack of empathy. I made it clear that the benefit to him was my cock and not much else. I wondered how Seth would react to the situation. FLASHBACK: ABE (CLEVELAND / MADISON, INDIANA) � November 11-13, this year - Hi. I'm just calling to let you know that I'll be gone for a few days. - Oh? What's up? - I'm driving out to Indiana. - You're going home? Something happen? - Yeah. My father has reached a critical point. He doesn't want to go on. He wants to see his children. - . . . Abe, do you think he's thinking of . . . ? - I'm trying NOT to think about what he's thinking. I just need to go. - I'll come over. He must have dropped everything and left immediately, because he was there in twenty minutes. I opened the door and there he was, his huge arms just waiting to take me into them. - Babe, I'm so sorry. - I feel so . . . guilty. - Why should you feel guilty? - I haven't been home in three years. - Well, things have been a bit rocky. - But he wants to see me. Me and Gretchen and Kate. - That's a good thing, isn't it? - It is, and it isn't. I guess it means I matter to him. I didn't think I did; he basically disowned me for being gay. But he wants to see me, Seth. And all this time � when he's been suffering � I let him and Mom go through this by themselves. - Not by themselves, your sisters were nearby. - Yes, but I wasn't. I was too stubborn and too selfish. I didn't think he'd want to see me � or maybe I just wanted to think that. Maybe all along he wanted me there. - Well, he wants you there now. So go. Make your peace with him. . . . Abe? - Yeah? - Do you want me to go with you? I looked at that big, handsome face and started to cry. I did want him there, and hadn't known how to ask. I called Mom and asked if it would be okay if Seth came. She hesitated. I heard background mumbling � I think she was conferring with my sisters � and then said yes, he could come, but keep a low profile. I interpreted that to mean no PDA's and keep Seth away from Dad. I told her we'd stay in a hotel. The next morning we hopped into Seth's car and drove to Madison. It took about five hours, not much longer than it would have taken to fly, what with all the pre-airport time and the fact that we'd still have to drive for an hour or so after landing in Louisville or Cincinnati. Madison is a quaint, quiet city on the Ohio River, full of beautiful Victorian houses, one of which I grew up in. My grandfather, an Armenian immigrant, had wound up here when he accepted a teaching position at a nearby college. Seth waited in the car while I went inside to check the temperature. My father was in his room, asleep; it was okay if Seth came in. Kate and Gretchen were anxious to meet him, lacking the homophobia Mom and Dad had drilled into them from an early age. It hit me with more guilt � I hadn't been in touch with my sisters, either, and I was missing out on a relationship that could enhance my life if I let it. Seeing my father was shattering. He could barely coordinate his movements. He saw me and a crooked smile punctuated his face. - Abe. You came. - Of course I came, Dad. I was a half-second away from adding `How are you?', which would have been the stupidest sentence I'd uttered in my entire life. - Abe, help me. - Do you need help getting up? You want to go to the bathroom, or � - Help me die. - . . . What? - Your sisters won't do it. Your mother � I couldn't ask her. You're the only one who . . . The only one who could do it. The only one who was distant enough, cold enough to end a life. Who disliked him enough to not have it burn through his conscience forever. - Dad, it's illegal. I could go to prison. Fuck! Had I really said that? It was true, this was not Oregon, where doctor-assisted suicide was legal. But my gut reaction was self-preservation, not empathy. He looked at me, his eyes welling up, whether from his hopes being crushed or in disappointment over my self-serving reaction I'll never know. - Of course, Abe. I understand. It . . . It was my only hope, but I knew it was too much to ask. - Oh, Dad. And I burst into tears and fell across his body, hugging him for all he was worth. His limbs tried to reach around me, not altogether successfully, but I knew the intention. I think at that moment I felt closer to him than at any time since I was about six. - I'll see what I can do. Did I really say that, also? He nodded, knowing it was one of those obligatory semi-offers that wouldn't come to fruition. There being nothing more to be said, I left the room. In the living room I found Seth talking to my mother and sisters about what kind of palliative care my father was getting. There were sedatives, they said; Mom had been taught how to safely inject them. - I think he could use some now. He's pretty wrought up after seeing me. - (Mom) Did you say something to antagonize him? - No. Mom. It's just been emotional � for both of us. - (Mom) I don't want to sedate him too often. I'll talk to him, calm him down. - (Seth) Do you mind if I get something to drink? Don't get up, I'll get it myself. After he returned, we chatted with my sisters for a few minutes and then left for the safety of the Hillside Inn, a hotel with lovely views of the Ohio River, where barges placidly navigated the smooth current. It was a sedative all its own, the perfect place for me to brief Seth on my emotional exchange with my father and his horrifying request. The following day I visited my father for the second and last time. He was asleep when I entered his room. I sat with him for about ten minutes when suddenly Seth walked in, wearing a jacket and tie that I hadn't known he had packed. It woke Dad up. - (Dad) Who are you? Moment of panic. He looked suspiciously at Seth. Was he thinking what I was afraid he was thinking? - (Seth) I'm Dr. Herrick. - (Dad, confused) I have my own doctors. - (Seth) Your son called me in. In regard to the request you made yesterday. He produced a syringe � from where I had no idea. My father brightened, looked at me, and smiled. - (Dad) I knew you'd come through. Seth pulled me aside and whispered: - Bought this just in case. Found the sedative in the fridge yesterday. Hope I got the dosage right. I didn't know where Seth developed the skills to find a vein, but he injected my father smoothly and without generating a complaint. - (Dad) Thank you. - (Seth) No one should have to go through what you're going through. I hope this eases your pain. - You're not a doctor, are you? - What makes you say that? - You're Abe's . . . Neither of us knew what to say to that, so we didn't. - I hope you're happy together. Take care of my son. Did my father actually say that? - Could you send in my wife? I'd like to be with her when � - Of course. We left him resting peacefully and told my mother he wanted to see her, he looked like he was fading. She stayed with him for half an hour, and came back red-eyed but calm. - He's gone. She looked at me and Seth. - Thank you. I knew that's what he wanted. I didn't have the strength. Seth had the strength. He had the strength of Hercules. * * * * * * * * THURSDAY, DECEMBER 27 * * * * * * * * THE DORMITORY � HARRY - On your knees. This couldn't be good. When we were given orders, only two things could follow � sex or punishment. In my case, sex being out of the question, this could only mean punishment. But being positioned on my knees wasn't a usual precedent for punishment. What could it be? Bondage, possibly. But what seemed most likely was that Barry, Hamish's dog, was about to piss on me. - Open your mouth. Or in me. He stroked himself to a full erection, which confused me, as that was unnecessary, even counterproductive, if he was about to urinate. - You've gotten off too easy, bitch. Time you got fed a little cock. Was he serious? - Suck it, fat boy. I couldn't believe my eyes. I looked hungrily at the thick sausage in front of me � was he really going to allow me a taste of it? Or was this to be just another cruel joke, crushing my dream yet again? Cue Lucy, with the football. I opened my mouth and in slid his thick, rigid member. It felt wonderful, it smelled wonderful, it tasted wonderful. I pulled my head back and licked the shaft with relish, then opened wide and let him invade my oral cavity. - Work it, bitch. I did. I didn't know what I was doing, but I let my fantasies go and caressed that cock for all it was worth, letting my lips encircle every inch of that shaft, wrapping my tongue around as much of it as I could, trying to keep my breathing steady and not gag. When he started to fuck my throat, gagging was impossible to avoid. And yet I relished it. I was being abused in the most sexual of ways, I was being treated as a sexual object and not as an object of ridicule. Barry was victimizing me brutally, and I wanted to be brutalized. His cockhead jabbed my throat time and time again, creating a wonderful panic as I struggled to breathe through my nose. I was being mouth-raped, and loving every minute. THE THRONE ROOM � HAMISH - Dammit, Perce, where's Barry? I'm horny. - There are plenty of asses to choose from, dear. You haven't done Vic in a few days � he's the body type most like Barry, though a little overdeveloped for my tastes. - I don't want to fuck Vic. I want to fuck Barry. - Well, Barry is probably off fucking Vic � or somebody else. You gave him free rein, told him he could fuck anyone he wanted, he's taking advantage of it. - Yeah, well, that decision is about to be rescinded. THE DORMITORY � HARRY Suddenly he pulled his cock out of my mouth, disappointing me by not cumming in it. - Oh, God, thank you. My voice was so raspy I don't know if it was intelligible. The only thing better would be if � - Bend over the bed. I'm going to do your fat ass. . . . would be if he said THAT. What had happened? They had held me out of the orgy only to give me my own private baptism the next day? And why Barry, and not Uri, or even Hamish himself, if such a monumental change was being effected? Maybe Barry was acting as an independent contractor. Maybe this was him showing his independence, a minor rebellion against Hamish. After all, how would Hamish find out? Another possibility raised its head: Jordan. Jordan knew how much I wanted this. Jordan was close to Barry. Maybe Jordan had engineered this in some way. If so, I would have to thank him as � Aaaaggh! Fffff! Deep breath deep breath deep breath. Pain permeated my anus as, without warning, Barry thrust his cockhead past my sphincter. I gasped, several times, listening to Barry laugh. - Oh, yes, whale boy. You wanted this, and you're going to get it, like it or not. I always think virgins should be taken without any lubrication at all, makes it all the more memorable. I'm going to � - Aggghhh! - Push in another inch without telling you first. - Oh, oh, oh, oh god, it hurts, it hurts, but sir, I like it, it hurts good. - It hurts good. Well, that's a good thing because we've got a long way to � - (a new voice) What the hell is going on here? I knew that voice. Hamish. FUCK ROOM F � PAUL We were on adjoining tables. Dai was face up, I was face down. This was confusing, as we both wanted our tattoos in the same place, somewhere we could read them easily. But there was no arguing with the Mayer brothers, and no changing the position we were in � we were strapped down firmly, unable to even squirm. Dai had the twins � Lander and Xander � while Patrick and Dane were attending to me. While Patrick seemed to be the oldest brother, it was Dane who was doing the talking. - Okay, boy, I'm going to place this brand on your ass where everybody can see it. - I won't see it. - Don't worry. Other people will tell you what it says. - Get it over with. - We will. One letter at a time. What? I had envisioned a single event, one single branding for the entire message. Sure, they'd have to construct a complex brand that had the heart and Dai's name in it, but surely they could wangle that. And wouldn't one letter at a time require a whole series of brands, making it more complex? It didn't matter, they were going to do what they were going to do. I only hoped we could trust them to brand us with the right message, and not trick us and burn into our skin something embarrassing, like the tattoo reading `Champion Cocksucker' in Chinese characters Dai had gotten years ago . Szzzzz. (Gasp!) - That was the letter P being burnt into your lovely right buttock. It was a tiny letter P, from the feel of it. But why the letter `P'? I didn't want my name decorating my body, I wanted Dai's, so I could find him. Szzzzz. (Gasp!) - And that was the letter R. R? P-R? What were they writing? Szzzzz. (Gasp!) - O. That was followed by another P and an E. - Five down, twenty-eight to go. Twenty-nine with the arrow. The arrow? FUCK ROOM F � DAI I watched as they began to brand Paul's ass. It looked like they were going to use up quite a bit of his right buttock, and hoped it didn't ruin its appearance. It was such a lovely ass; would it still be as lovely with a message carved out on it? I didn't have much time to consider this as my abdomen � arguably a place more sensitive than Paul's ass � received its first letter: an L. An L? Were they doing this out of order? There was an L in Paul's name, but it came at the end, not at the beginning. I suffered in pain as eight more letters were seared into my abdomen, just above my pubes. They were not spelling out `Paul Eton', I was sure of that. Fuck, why did I trust them to do what we asked them to? And then they shaved off all my pubic hair. FUCK ROOM F � PAUL To my relief, they did what we asked them to � in a way. They left us each with messages that could help us find the other. But they took a more painful method than tattooing � and more letters than were strictly necessary. My message said, "Property of Daisuke Omi, San Francisco". And that was accompanied by an Amazon-like arrow pointing directly to my hole. FUCK ROOM F � DAI The first line of my message said simply: "Look Below". Underneath was an arrow pointing down to a message which would be obscured if I had pubic hair any more � which, maybe I would when we were restored to Alphaworld. Anyway, the message, just above my cock, said, "Insert into Paul Eton, Richmond". Now we just needed to trust that our Alpha-selves could still read the messages, and would follow up on it, meet each other, and hopefully fall in love all over again. THE THRONE ROOM � HAMISH This was a disaster. Mancini had to remain a virgin, and now Barry's cock had not only raped his mouth but had pushed an inch or so into his ass. Would this destroy the physics? Was the fact that Barry had not shot his load inside Mancini enough to technically keep him a virgin for the purposes of The Project? I had no idea. I would be contacting Switzerland at the next hour. I dragged Barry out into the hallway and had him wait while I retrieved a collar and puppy tail dildo, both of which I fitted him with as I made him crawl on all fours, wagging his tail, back to the Throne Room. Then I rephrased the question I had posed when I found Barry inside Mancini: - What the hell did you think you were doing, Barry? - You told me I could fuck anyone I wanted. - Not Mancini! - You didn't tell me that. You said anyone. - Dammit, Barry, you knew that Mancini had to stay virgin. - I thought maybe that had changed when you said I could fuck anyone except Abe. - Well, not Mancini! - You should have made that clear, Master. Oh, really, Barry? You're going to make this MY fault? Not on your life. - How do you think I should punish you, Barry? What privilege should I withhold? He thought long and hard. He could read my face and saw I was serious about this � he was in trouble. I could read his thoughts: "If I say something too small, he'll spit in my face and double or triple it. It has to be a privilege I really want to keep." - Jordan, Master. Forbid me from fucking Jordan. Or playing with him. After Abe, he's my favorite. That's the thing I'd miss the most. I stared at him. I'd already decided on a punishment � and Murdock was indeed factoring into my thinking. - Adena arrives Saturday. When he does, Murdock is to be gelded, then executed Sunday. Onslow arrives Monday � it's our last day here, so King will be gelded and executed the same day. - Tell me what to do to keep them alive. I don't want them to die. Especially Jordan. - Fair enough, Barry. I'll give you a choice. Option One: Murdock gets the axe on Sunday and King on Monday. With no Alpha-lives, their deaths are permanent and they no longer exist - anywhere. - What's Option Two? - We keep them alive until near midnight on New Year's Eve. They'll have to face the axe then, but if it's within the proper window, they can survive when The Project launches. - I like that option. - But Barry � for that option to apply, you have to give up something. - I'll give up fucking Jordan. I'll give up fucking both of them. - You'll give up fucking anyone, Barry. If you want them to live past Monday, you'll have to surrender the thing most precious to you. - Oh, my god. Not my balls! Please, not my balls! - No, Barry. Not your balls. - Thank God. - Your cock. - . . . You're not serious. - Your cock or their lives. Your choice. I smiled as wickedly as I could. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER FORTY-THREE � MORE PERIL ABOVE GROUND]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-48	Date: Sun, 30 Jun 2024 19:07:34 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 48 (Authoritarian) Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT: THE THREE TASKS Previously: * Seth arrives underground and reunites with Abe. He knows that he will be asked to do three tasks, all necessary to effect The Project. Sean has told him to perform the first two, to lure them into a false sense of security, but to refuse the last, which would actually launch The Project. * Three heads were to roll on the 31st � Jordan, Miles, and Augie. When Harry volunteered to replace Jordan on the block, and Barry agreed to sacrifice his cock, the physics reprieved all three. Barry (who thought HE was saving Jordan) agreed on the condition that his cock would be restored after launch; he received assurances that it was 100% guaranteed, although simulations gave him only a 56% chance of retaining his manhood. * The physics also required one of The Twelve to be shot by arrows. Tim was selected for this fate. * Ian has been told that if he returns to Alphaworld, a memory will be implanted into his brain of a year in jail in Martinique, to account for the time he was away from Cleveland. * * * * * * * * MONDAY, DECEMBER 31, EVENING * * * * * * * * THE THRONE ROOM - SETH Several lieutenants tied up Abe and Ian, making sure the two `pets' wouldn't be going anywhere while I was performing my `tasks'. Sean, I noted, was now dressed in more than underwear and socks � he had apparently borrowed one of Percy's flowing gowns, the better to distinguish himself from the lieutenants, who were nude. His demeanor toward me was gruff, like a lieutenant, but then I caught him winking at me in a private moment. This was all for show, he was trying to convey, I'm really on your side. But was he? They led me to my post-coital shower, where several coiled hoses hung from hooks on the wall; I expected they would soon be pumping water up my back channel, but I was only required to clean myself externally. The sensation was quite wonderful: After a month of bathing only in a cool stream, jets of hot water cascading over my body felt like heaven. I allowed myself the luxury of enjoying it before facing . . . whatever it was I was to face. But stray thoughts disturbed my reverie. How was Jasper coping without balls? Was Paul still imprisoned by that jockstrap? How was Tim adjusting to life as a bird? How had the reunions gone � Augie and Jordan, Vic and Miles? Had the trip to Hamishland altered the relationship between Gary and Ray � had one of them emerged as the sole occupant of that body? All that paled in comparison to the one thing that truly mattered: Abe. Was that rapturous moment of congress the last we would have in this universe � or ever? Would he survive the day? Would he survive the next year? Would he do so only to slowly succumb to a dreadful disease? Or could we possibly have decades of blissful co-habitation ahead of us? And what effect � if any � did my actions today have on the answers to those questions? Hamish, perhaps concluding that I was dawdling in the shower, ordered an end to it. Once dry, I was escorted to the White Room, the place to which a penis garden had delivered me nineteen days ago. It looked different. The foam-rubber floor was now hardwood. A pair of handcuffs was suspended from the ceiling. On the floor were shackles, feet apart. Obviously, someone was to be spread-eagled there, like a St. Andrew's cross without the cross. I was okay with it being me, as long as it wasn't Abe. Lieutenants rimmed the room, either to provide security in case I rebelled, or just to revel in the entertainment. A huge screen descended from the ceiling. A man's face appeared on it � a Latino in what appeared to be his early thirties, quite handsome, authoritative in manner. Two lieutenants pushed me forward, to a spot facing the Latino; I could see my image on a monitor behind him, and could hear a modicum of background noise � there were others with him watching the events in the White Room. - Good evening, Mister Herrick. - Good evening, Mister Z�rich. - Z�rich? - A semi-rhyme. Besides, isn't that where you are? I know you're in Switzerland, Z�rich is where all the business is, isn't it? - Actually, we're in St. Moritz. - Ah, lives of the rich and famous. I presume I'm talking to the famous Jes�s. - You are, but we can't talk for long. Betaworld is unstable here beyond a short period of time, so your activities will be taped and transmitted to us on the hour so we can observe how you are fulfilling your obligations. - So are you just here to give me a pep talk? Jes�s smiled. - Something like that. We've spent years of our lives invested in you. - Years of mine, too. Arranging for my wife to kill herself. Abducting my children. - Setting you up with the love of your life. - Which you now threaten to deprive me of if I don't do exactly what you want. - There are times when individual sacrifices must be made for the greater good. - Is that what you call it � the greater good? Splitting the universe into twelve pieces? - Oh, dear. Someone HAS been talking. But let's not waste time on the ethics of The Project. - Wise decision on your part, as there don't seem to be any. - Let's talk about the pragmatics. If you follow our instructions, you and Derisian will be reunited. If you don't, Hamish will execute him � permanently. And don't doubt for a minute that he'd do it � Hamish has already relieved several men from the burden of carrying heads on their shoulders. Including Harry. Poor, poor Harry. And Leo. And Piers, whom I had failed to free when I freed Theo. - It's that simple, Herrick. Three tasks. By the time we speak again, I expect you to have completed the first one. And then the screen went blank, depriving me of the opportunity for any kind of response. I looked at Sean, who wasn't providing any helpful visual cues. He'd told me to do the first two, but not the last. Jes�s had threatened Abe's life if I didn't comply. I had projected bravado that I wasn't at all feeling. But I had to keep up pretenses. They had me by the short hairs and they knew it, but I couldn't look weak in front of them. - (Hamish) Just be a good boy and obey, Herrick. If you don't, Stefan has permission to terminate Derisian in any manner he finds pleasing. He told me once he'd always wanted to skin a man alive. Perhaps you'll give him that chance. There was activity at the door � two lieutenants were bringing in a man whose head was covered in what looked like a medieval combat helm. Despite the attempt to obscure his identity, I knew instantly who it was � I would have known simply by the musculature of his chest or his back, or by a glance at his legs, his ass, or his junk. Any one of those body parts would be sufficient for me to recognize him. Each naked body was distinctive, and I knew them all intimately � inside (in some cases) and out. But in this case it was even simpler � he was too tall to be anyone other than Tim. A human Tim, no longer a bird, which was a relief. But I was nervous about why he was here � I didn't want to seriously damage Tim . . . or kill him. They fitted Tim into the restraints, facing away from me. Smack in the middle of his back was painted a big black circle. Portions on the side of his torso also seemed to be marked. - (Hamish) Don't hit the black sections. Or his head. Hit him? Hit him how? With my hands? With a whip? My answer came moments later when Ian entered, on all fours, holding a bow in his mouth. Not a bow like you might find on a violin. Not a bow like you might find on a package. A bow like you might find in Robin Hood's hands. And hanging from Ian's neck was a felt quiver, replete with arrows. A bow and arrows. Don't hit the black sections. Were they serious? I was supposed to shoot Tim with arrows? I was. Hamish explained that the preference was to keep him alive, so I shouldn't hit him in any vital organs, especially his heart, lungs, or liver. I counted the arrows in the bucket � twelve. (What else?) Another of Harry's twelves. - What if I miss? - (Hamish) You shoot again. You have to hit him twelve times. One of my P.E. classes in college was a weird amalgam of archery and bowling. I signed up for it for the bowling, but I enjoyed the archery. I got pretty good at it � but that was nearly ten years ago, and I haven't touched a bow since then. To avoid vital organs, there was only one place to aim � his ass. If I missed high, it would still only penetrate his lower back, which should be safe. If I missed low, it depended where. If I was lucky, I'd get his thigh; if I was unlucky, the arrow would sail between his legs � or even skewer his balls. Depriving Jasper of his testicles had been excruciating; I had no desire to create another eunuch. I mounted the bowstring in the nock and drew the arrow back. I steadied my hands the best I could. Still, it seemed like the bow was shaking in my hands, courtesy of my nervousness. I took a deep breath, and let fly, closing my eyes a half-second after release. I didn't want to see where it landed. I heard a cry of pain. A sound which normally would have made me wince, but in this context filled me with relief. I had struck him. One down, eleven to go. I opened my eyes. I'd gotten lucky. I'd hit him in the lower thigh, barely an inch away from missing him altogether. I apologized quickly to Tim and reloaded. The second shot landed just below the kidneys, still missing his ass. He yelled, as much in shock at the impact as in pain. Tim was a soldier; he could take it. I improved. Seven of the remaining ten shots struck the targeted buttocks, with none missing him completely. Tim's reaction grew less vocal as he adjusted to the sensation of metal piercing his flesh. Still, the pain must have been significant; the arrows had penetrated an inch or so into his body. One shot in particular had caused him excruciating pain. With his legs spread-eagled, his buttocks were pulled apart, and shot number ten went right up his asshole. It hadn't gotten as far as coming out on the other side and skewering his junk, but his sensitive rectum was in far more agony than the meat of his fleshy rump, where most of the shots had landed. Sean, who appeared every inch the pawn of Hamish, congratulated me on my accuracy. What happened now, I wondered. To pull the arrows from Tim's body would be agonizing as well. But that's what happened, Tim yelling violently with each extraction. Sean explained that if they didn't remove the arrows, he would wake up tomorrow morning with them still embedded in his body. I wanted to talk to Tim afterwards, but they hustled him out quickly before we had a chance to exchange more than glances. Mine conveyed guilt. His conveyed forgiveness. He was a soldier, he was doing his duty, he understood his role � and mine. Tim was a good guy; I hoped that what he endured had earned some positive benefit for us both. What would The Project mean to Tim? I realized I had never asked him about his love life � did he have one? Was there someone waiting for him in St. Louis? My relationship with Abe wasn't the only one in limbo. Augie and Jordan (if they could reconcile). Ian and Stan (if Alpha-Stan survived, Vic and Miles. And, it seemed, Paul and Dai. All of their fates lay in the balance, as well as Abe's and mine. My first task complete, I wanted to return to the Throne Room to check on Abe. Instead, I was forced to wait in the White Room until there was activity on the screen, when once again I was presented to Jes�s, who looked pleased. - Hamish informs me you have completed the first task. We will watch the video of it while you begin the second task, which you should enjoy. It involves sex. Two lieutenants dragged in a padded bench, followed shortly by Dai. Having bragged about how I could recognize everyone from their naked bodies, Dai's bore a surprise � a tattoo on his shaved abdomen. It looked like they'd picked up on his affection for Paul and had taunted him by tattooing his name onto his body. No, wait � it wasn't a tattoo. It was burnt in. Those bastards. His mouth was full of a ball gag, which prevented him from communicating with me. Which was a shame, because there was much I wanted to ask him. They draped him over the bench, his golden orbs on glorious display, ripe for plunder. My cock sprang to life. I don't know whether it would have in a normal atmosphere, but here on the island, I was raring to go at the slightest provocation. And Dai's sexy ass was more than a slight provocation. Dai's ball gag was soon partnered by one stuffed into my own mouth. Just to make it clear there would be no communication between us. It having been years since I'd worn one (courtesy of Sean), I'd forgotten how it made me drool � involuntarily. I looked around expectantly for the lube, and saw Hamish smile � the same wicked smile he'd given when I'd asked if I'd ever see Abe again. - Dry, Herrick. With the ball gag in my mouth, I couldn't even lubricate his hole with saliva. This was not going to be fun for either of us. I approached the Japanese-American's prostrate form, those gorgeous melons making my cock tingle with excitement. Words being removed from my list of options, I could only communicate with my hands. I patted him lightly on the back, rubbing his shoulders reassuringly and then running my palms lightly over the twin mounds that so excited me. I wanted to say, it will be okay, Dai, I care for you, even though I'm going to have to dry-hump you. Finally ready, I lowered my body over his, positioned my cock behind his adorable rosebud and paused, letting him feel my rod nestle against his anus. I mumbled something that was supposed to sound like "Here goes" and thrust forward. It was tough to get in. I pushed, hard, until I had driven my shaft well up his underused rectum. It gripped my cock tightly, rendering me much greater pleasure than it was rendering Dai. And then I started fucking. As my generous member scraped the sides of his anal canal, he grunted in discomfort, but the sensation on my cock was nothing but pure joy. Even dry, Dai was a great fuck. He was wasting his time as a top, he could bottom for me any time. I plowed him for several minutes, working myself into a frenzy, feeling his solid, sexy body underneath me in a way that only drove me to further ecstasy. It was like fucking Abe � his body felt so good next to mine. The tension in my cock grew and grew until I knew I was going to explode � and I spewed what seemed like a pint of semen into Dai's ass. It wasn't, of course, but I had a good nine spurts before running out of juice, grateful for having completed the second task. Foolish me. I hadn't yet completed the second task. THE THRONE ROOM � ABE - Ian, are you there? I can't see you. Can you hear me? - I'm here. I can see you. I'm just tied up, I can't move. - What do you think's going on? - Sex. - I mean about us. Twelve universes. Sean said the Project was twelve universes. Percy says I have to die in this one in order to be alive in The Project � but I thought that meant back in some kind of improved Alphaworld. But now there's supposedly twelve worlds � which one will I live in? Will Seth even be in the same universe with me? - Maybe you'll both exist in all the universes. Maybe Stan and I will, too. Maybe I should want this Project to go through � if I return to Alphaworld with some fucked-up memory of a year in jail in Martinique, why would I ever try to find Stan? - I just want to go back to Cleveland and be with Seth, just like we were. Alphaworld. That's all I want. I can't count on finding Seth in twelve universes. In any of them. - I know what you mean. It feels wrong to trust Percy and Hamish and root for what they want. - We can't trust Sean. We can't trust Percy and Hamish. I only have one place to put my trust, and that's in Seth. I have to trust that ultimately, he'll do the right thing. - And if he doesn't - ? - Maybe we'll both stop existing. THE WHITE ROOM � SETH They took Dai out and brought in Ed, tossing him over the padded bench. The knight's eyes shot daggers at me. I had to assume that he had been used sexually down here � and fairly often � but on the surface Ed had been a homophobe and a self-described straight. It was obvious to me that none of The Twelve were exclusively straight, but I had no sense of how often Ed's ass had been violated. It was a nice ass for a forty-nine-year-old man. And I had to fuck him dry as well, against which he vehemently protested, both vocally and physically. While Dai had complicitly lain there awaiting his sodomization, Ed wriggled and struggled and had to be tied down before I could penetrate him. But penetrate him I did � not as delightfully as I had Dai, but still with a lot of satisfaction � for me. THE DORMITORY � PAUL - (Harry) Calm down, Paul. I'm sure he's fine. - It's the last day of Betaworld, Harry. They don't need us anymore. They've killed all the left-siders, do I have any confidence that Dai is still alive? Or that any of us will be alive tomorrow? - (Augie) If they wanted to kill us all, why did they spare Harry? - (Vic) Maybe it was just too early in the day. This whole thing seems meticulously planned. - (Harry) They said that none of us had to die. Me, Miles, Jordan, Augie. That was their wording: None of us had to die. - So why did they take Tim and Dai and Ed? Maybe the rest of us do have to die. I was about to find out. Anthony appeared at the door. - (Anthony) Paul. It's time. - (panic) Time? My time? Is my time up? - (Anthony, grinning) You'll find out. - (Jasper) That has to be the least satisfactory answer in history. Hugs � final hugs? � to everyone still left in the dormitory (Harry, Augie, Vic, Gary, Jasper) and then I left with Anthony. Anthony's grin was reassuring. He had hopes of connecting with me back in Richmond when this was all over, so if I was about to meet an untimely end, he wouldn't be grinning. Anthony ball-gagged me and led me to the White Room, where I was stunned to see not only Hamish, Percy, and a bunch of lieutenants, but a man I had not seen in almost three weeks. What was Seth doing here? Had he made a second futile attempt to rescue his boyfriend Abe? I hadn't really gotten to know Seth much before I was zapped down here nearly a month ago, but I knew he was important. He and I had both lost our clothing � or, in my case, most of it � while asleep in the Phallic Tower. Only I'd been confined in a jockstrap ever since. With the gag in my mouth, I couldn't say anything, and neither could Seth, similarly costumed. I saw him glance at my ass in surprise, with Dai's name burnt into my body so that I wouldn't forget him once we were back in Alphaworld. If I survived the day. If he did. They bent me over a bench and it was clear that, despite the promise of no sex today, there was going to be sex. Without lubrication, as it turned out. Fortunately, my ass had stretched enough to accommodate Seth without too much difficulty, and once he got in, it was pretty smooth sailing. I did like getting fucked, and Seth was good at it. They'd told Harry that normally they fuck a guy just before they behead him. So was this my pre-execution fuck? Was Dai already dead? Would I ever see him again? These were the thoughts passing through my cranium as Seth's generous member was pummeling my rectum. Seth's semen flooded my bowels and he withdrew. Now what? Seth's mouth might be gagged but his hands were free, and he gave me a thumbs up. I wasn't sure what that meant � I was a good fuck? Dai was okay? Or just saying `keep your spirits up'? No idea. I was hoping for a combination of all three. Then Hamish took center stage. Uh-oh. Was he about to announce my execution? Was he simply going to usher me out of the room? Was Seth to do something more to me? None of the above. - (Hamish) Herrick. Remove Eton's jockstrap. Excuse me? The jockstrap that I've been wearing continuously for the last three weeks? The one I cannot possibly remove? It caught Seth by surprise as well. He stepped forward, embraced me in solidarity, and then lowered his hands to my hips and tugged on the waistband. I felt movement. I adjusted my legs to spread them wider and noted the sensation with delight as I felt my personal chastity cage slip off my hips and slide down my legs to the floor. I lifted my legs, one by one, as Seth pulled the confining garment completely away from me. I didn't know what to feel. I looked down at my cock to make sure it was still there. Yes, I was intact. I touched it. Having been imprisoned for the past month, it slowly elevated simply by my touch � and the overcharged sexual atmosphere that pervaded this island. It was tingling so intensely I wanted to whack off right then and there. I couldn't believe my nightmare � or this aspect of my nightmare � was over. But maybe it wasn't. They had removed a jockstrap from me before � the one I had arrived with � only to have it replaced with another. Was history about to repeat itself? A dreadful thought struck me in the chest. There was one thing they could do that was worse than making me wear Leo's skin. Dai . . . No, there couldn't be time for that, surely. But was he - ? THE WHITE ROOM � SETH I held Paul's jockstrap in my hands � the one they had told me was made from human skin. Paul looked an odd combination of relief and anxiety, perhaps anticipating something worse to come. I was glad to relieve him of this burden, and furious of the actions that had prompted its necessity. I took two steps forward and flung it toward Hamish, hoping to strike him in the face. He caught it, of course, and tossed it back to me. - Put it on, Herrick. Ah. Now I was to be a prisoner of the unremovable jockstrap. At least it meant that task number two was over � there could be no more sex if I was confined inside this � well, let's call it fabric for civility's sake. I lowered the garment and started to step into it. - Not that way. Backwards. You must wear the skin of young Niemann. But you still have more fucking to do. Terrific. A symbolic donning of another man's tragedy. Was I responsible for that, in some way? Was this some kind of hair shirt that I was to wear for penance? I didn't see how. Leo's misfortune was brought about by his own impetuousness; I'd played no role in it. I looked over at Sean. He gave me an almost imperceptible nod. I switched the jock around and stepped into it, the cup now covering my crack and my cock still open for business. They led Paul out, still bearing a rigid erection, though his face was still filled with anxiety. I didn't know where they were taking him, and neither did he. I hoped it was nowhere dreadful. I decided to opt for false cheer as my fa�ade. - So, who's next? Percy, care to bend over for me? Haven't fucked you yet. - (Hamish) Neither have you fucked your next target. And who would that be? THE EXECUTION CHAMBER � BARRY I had to trust Hamish, didn't I? I'd been with him for a month now, and, while he had been intermittently cruel, he had never lied to me, so far as I could tell. So when he informed me that Switzerland had confirmed that I would regain my cock tomorrow morning, I had to trust him. It was a huge risk � but if I didn't do it, Jordan would die. And the fat boy would have gotten the chop as well. He was sacrificing himself for Stapleton, but I was outdoing him in the nobility department � I was saving two lives � Jordan's and Miles's. At the cost of � the most precious possession I had. Yes, that was noble of me. And so I laid my pecker down on the block of wood and Stefan chopped it off, which was more painful psychologically, to see it lying there, separate from me, than the actual physical pain � which was intense enough, thank you. Bleeding down here seemed minimized � even heads were severed without a lot of mess, they tell me � and a bandage over my stump seemed sufficient to keep me from losing very much blood. I demanded to see Jordan afterwards, and was thrilled to see that both he and King were still in existence. Neither had balls, but that made us comrades in eunuchdom, I guess. I passed on the news that due to my largesse their heads had been preserved. I related how I had dramatically stopped Harry's execution � and that Hamish was checking to see if they would need to chop him later. I had no idea how that had come out. I hoped he would survive; Jordan was fond of Harry, and I didn't want to see Jordan hurt. And I must admit that Harry's fat ass might have provided me with a good fuck, had I not been interrupted a half-inch into the process. Jordan worried that if Harry WAS spared that they would revert to their original plan and behead Augie. This whole life-and-death thing seemed to be a zero-sum game, but I was hoping there was a way for everyone to survive. With our respective genitalia restored. Miles was anxious for news of Vic, of which I had none. As I was about to respond, two lieutenants showed up and marched me to the White Room. Where I found Hamish, Percy, several lieutenants, and the two men I had met on the surface � Sean O'Hara and Seth Herrick. The latter wore a ball gag and a backwards-facing jockstrap. His rod was stiff, and I wondered if I was going to have to suck it. No. I was to be fucked by it. THE WHITE ROOM � SETH I stared at him. The man had a pair of dangling balls but only a stump above them, covered in a bandage. Gagged, I couldn't ask the questions I wanted to. I made do with gestures, pointing to Barry, then my cock, then him again: What happened? Hamish interpreted my body language correctly. - The physics, Herrick. It required a sacrifice from my pet doggy. He desired to spare young Murdock from losing his head. He didn't know that Murdock had already been spared when Mancini volunteered to take his place. He expected me to be stunned by that news. I wasn't, having already been informed by Ian. But the reaction came from Barry. And, oh yes, he reacted. They hadn't gagged him, so it was quite verbal. - (Barry) WHAT? Jordan was already spared? That's what Mancini was doing there? I thought you were offing him instead of Stapleton. - (Hamish) We were, as you so inelegantly phrased it, `offing him' to replace Murdock � but it also relieved us of the obligation to behead Stapleton. - So I did this for NOTHING? - Don't feel bad, Barry. Without your action, King would be `persona sine capite'. That's Latin for � - I don't give a rat's ass what it's Latin for. - Person without a head. But relax � when The Project launches, you have a fifty-six percent chance of getting your cock back. There was a silence. - Did you say fifty-six percent? - I did. - You told me a hundred percent. You said it was guaranteed. - . . . I lied. - Fifty-six percent? FIFTY-SIX FUCKING PERCENT?! I wouldn't have done it for goddam fifty-six percent! - I know. That's why we had to lie to you. Relax, Barry, it's better than fifty-fifty odds. And now, Barry, Herrick here is going to fuck your ass. My body language tried to communicate: Why him? - (Hamish) He's one of The Twelve, Herrick. You have to fuck all of The Twelve at least once. Well, those that are still alive. I considered for a moment. I'd never fucked Dai, Ed, or Paul before � they'd gone underground before I received my daily sex mandate. Tim, Vic, Jasper, Augie, and Gary had each submitted to me over the course of the last two weeks. The others were dead. Barry would be the last one. The end of Task Number Two. Barry's protests were vociferous, particularly when he discovered he wasn't getting lubrication. But into him I went, and in-and-out I went. He didn't care for it at all, but I had a good time. If Barry, not Abe, was to host my last orgasm in Betaworld, then I was going to ride Barry for all he was worth. I felt sorry that he no longer had a penis, but I had to assume the 56% projection referred to his fate under The Project. If I sabotaged it, he'd revert to Alphaworld, where he'd surely be fully endowed once again. Two tasks down, one to go � the big one. I was anxious to find out whatever it was. The one Sean wanted me to refuse. Meanwhile, they removed the cockless Barry from the premises and ungagged me, which was a relief. Having my jaws forced apart for the duration had made them stiff. - So, Hamish, what's the third task? The critical one, the one that will launch this precious Project of yours, the one that will split the universe into twelve pieces, which I am, for some reason, supposed to want to happen? - (Hamish, smiling) What makes you think you're done with the second task? - Because I've fucked all of the Twelve who are still alive. - No you haven't. And they brought in Harry. THE DORMITORY � HARRY, earlier - (Vic) They should have come for another of us by now. - (Ray) Maybe they're not going to do us all. - (Augie) Just four of us? Why should they stop at four? - The first four captured were Paul, Dai, Augie, and Ed. That's who they've taken, except they took Tim instead of Augie. - (Jasper) You were the next to go down. - If whatever they're doing involves sex, they're not going to take me. - (Gary) Why not? - They want to keep me a virgin. - (Ray) You seem unhappy about that. - Well, . . . yeah. It's kinda something I wanted to happen. - (Ray) Shit, you shoulda told me. I'd have done ya. I'm so horny, I'd fuck Mahatma Gandhi. - (Gary) No, you wouldn't. - (Ray) Well, no, he's dead. His ass was too skinny anyway. But Harry, sure, I'd do Harry, no problem. Uh, thanks. I guess. And then Uri came to the door. . . . Uri. . . . URI! - What are you doing here? - (Uri) Collecting you. - (to the dorm) Relax, guys, whatever they did to the others, it wasn't fucking them. - (Uri) Don't be too sure about that. - Oh, maybe I get to watch. Fun. Uri shepherded me down the series of corridors that led to the White Room. Where I saw, well, everybody except the people I most wanted to know about. Sean, Hamish, Percy, and most of the lieutenants were there. But no Dai, no Paul, no Ed, no Tim. Were they dead? Was I about to go on the chopping block for the second time in a day? Stefan was present, but there was no chopping block and no axe. Instead, there was a padded bench. And there was Seth Herrick with an erection. And an astonished look on his face. - (Seth) Harry! You're alive! - Yes, thanks to Barry. A real Deus ex Machina moment. I'd tell you about it, but I don't think that's what Hamish has in mind right now. - (Hamish) No, what I have in mind is some fucking. Mancini, you're about to get your wish. I stared at him. My wish? He knew damn well what my wish was. It involved bending over something like a padded bench. It involved an erect cock. And in my wildest fantasies, it involved Seth Herrick. - (Seth) I'm going to fuck you, Harry. The six most wonderful words in the English language. "I'm going to fuck you, Harry." He � gorgeous hunk of a man Seth Herrick � was going to fuck fat, worthless Harry Mancini. Or was he? They'd stopped Barry before he got more than a half-inch inside me. They'd brought me to the Christmas orgy like I was to participate, then made me just watch. Every day I watched Dai get milked dry without ever getting to place that cock inside my mouth, or anywhere else. Was this another cruel joke? Lucy pulling the football out from under Charlie Brown's foot, causing him to fall flat on his ass? For the second time today, arms seized me roughly, forced me to my knees and draped me over something. Only this time it wasn't to place my head on a chopping block. This time it was to position my ass in prime position for fucking. Or spanking. That was the more likely scenario. They wouldn't � I felt hands on my ankles, yanking them apart. And then hands in my crack, making sure my hole was exposed. An enema, perhaps, forcing me to hold it in until I couldn't anymore and then spill out the effluvium onto the bare white floor, which they'd probably make me ingest. That was the height of their depravity, they weren't about to � I felt something wet against my hole. - (Hamish) Yes, we'll lubricate this one, Herrick. For all intents and purposes, it is his first time. - (Seth) It will be okay, Harry. I'll be gentle. Chills coursed throughout my body. Hamish might play cruel tricks, but Seth? Of course they could have been misleading Seth. Charlie Brown hadn't yet reached the football, he could still fall flat on his ass. I felt Seths' finger probe inside, swishing the lube inside my nearly-inviolate shitchute. Then there was another dose of liquid against my hole, and another finger probing my rectum. I was in heaven. Seth's other hand was running lightly over my buttocks, soothingly, calmly, reassuringly. Sexily. For the first time in my life, I felt like a sexy person. Maybe I wasn't, but I FELT like one. I started to cry. - (Percy) For God's sake, Mancini, he hasn't even penetrated you yet. It can't hurt that much. Tears of joy, Percy, you don't understand that? My moral victory, the near-conquest of my ass by Barry, that had been so satisfying. And yet that now felt like a bunt single compared to a grand slam. - (Seth) Ready, Harry? - (Was I?!) Ready. And then I felt his cockhead pressing against my hole. If I'd have died right then and there, it would have been satisfactory, just knowing that the cock of such a hunk, of such a nice, good man, was poised to enter my body, seconds later. But I didn't die right then and there. And his cockhead didn't remain poised against my hole. A moment later, Seth Herrick's cock plunged forward. Into my ass. Into MY ass! God, it felt good! THE WHITE ROOM � SETH Harry felt good. I know there's a sense that fat people aren't sexy � and to some, they aren't, outwardly. But, face it, the inside of an ass doesn't have much to do with the outside of it. It's all psychological. Harry gripped my cock like he was hanging on for dear life. And my cock loved it. He knew to push out to grant me access and I took advantage, plunging in to the hilt. I knew that, inexperienced as he was, he was feeling pain, but the groans he was omitting were not groans of protest. They were groans of ecstasy. THE WHITE ROOM � HARRY The next few minutes were the happiest of my life. The feel of his cock ramming up against my prostate, the rhythm of his driving, the pulsing, pounding, delirious pain of it all � the most welcome pain I have ever felt in my life. I felt like a human being. I felt valued. I felt like all the years of suffering had been worth it, for this one moment. And even though I knew that Seth was being forced to fuck me, it didn't feel like an involuntary act, or an act of charity, as Barry's had been. It felt like he wanted to make love to me. That's probably not what he was feeling, but it didn't matter. He made me feel that way. He spoke in gentle, soothing tones, he touched me up and down my arms and my back and my neck, and planted kisses on my neck as he drove himself deep inside me. I thought back to a point hours earlier when Stefan was about to send my head rolling across the floor, and how Hamish had said they normally fucked a man before decapitating him. I thought � if they fucked a man WHILE decapitating him, that would be the perfect way to die: a cock buried in my ass, drilling the hell out of me. And if, at that moment with Seth deep inside me, they had decided to chop off my head, I would have been fine with it. Let me go out in a blaze of glory. Taking Barry's cock in my mouth had been satisfying, and having it push past my sphincter for a few fleeting seconds had been a thrill. But I'd been kidding myself if I thought my life had been complete then. My life was complete now. They could take it, and I'd die happy � truly happy. I'd been fucked, and I'd been fucked by one of the sexiest men alive. I never wanted it to end. THE WHITE ROOM � SETH Harry's eyes were wet. Hamish and Percy left the room, I guess to contact Jes�s. There was no chance of my escape from the White Room � too many lieutenants standing guard. But it gave me a chance to talk to Harry. His voice was cracking as he spoke. - Thank you. Thank you, Seth. I can't tell you what this means to me. - Harry, it was my pleasure. And I mean that literally. You were a great fuck. - Don't say that. - You WERE. You were, Harry. I've always told you, you undervalue yourself. And, like I said before, there's a guy out there for you. Maybe he'll be a chaser, maybe he'll just be a wise person who can see you for the kind of man you really are. You are a good man, Harry, inside and out � and when I say inside, I mean your soul but I also mean the inside of your ass. Harry blushed with that last statement. - Thank you, Seth. I know you're just being nice, but I appreciate it anyway. - When we get to Alphaworld, I'll be there for you. Abe and I will come to Philly, we'll wave our magic wands and find you a guy. - You waved your magic wand inside me today, Seth. That's all I really needed. And I don't know if we'll ever get back to Alphaworld. - (Sean, eavesdropping and deciding to admit it) You will, Seth. If you do what you need to do. If I decide that what I need to do is what YOU want me to do. THE DARK ROOM � DAI The dark room brought back uncomfortable memories � the dodecagon collapsing beneath my feet, landing � if that was the word � on a chair with a dildo lodged deep inside my ass, waiting for someone to release me. That was twenty-four days ago. And now here I was again. After Seth fucked me, I was squirreled away in the pitch-black atmosphere of this intimidating room. But this time I was not alone. Ed was here. Barry was here. And best of all, Paul was here. And best-best of all, Paul had been emancipated from his constant companion, the jockstrap. For the first time since I had fallen in love with him, his cock was accessible. Irony of ironies � in the total darkness, I couldn't see it. I could feel it though � in my hands it felt generous in size, relative to his height. It felt that way in my mouth, too. Ed was scandalized, but Paul hadn't gotten his rocks off all month. And I was determined that when he did it would be down my throat. My lips curled around his cockhead, teasing the frenulum as he gasped in excitement. After being locked in its cloth � then leather � cage for weeks, he was ready to spew his load at the slightest stimulation, and the first batch of semen eased into my gullet in nothing flat. I wasn't about to let him off so lightly, and surrounded his member with my mouth almost immediately after swallowing. I played it with my tongue, kissing it, licking it, caressing it, then diving in deep and taking the whole of it into my oral cavity, letting his balls bounce against my chin. He groaned his delight as Ed, cognizant of our activity but grateful that he was unable to visually witness it, scoffed his displeasure across the room. He wasn't amused when I suggested that he and Barry occupy themselves similarly while Paul and I were enjoying sexual congress. - (Ed) If you think I'm going to stick that thing in my mouth, you'd be very much surprised. - (Barry) If I did, I think you'd be the one who was surprised. That cryptic remark went unexplained, and I assumed it was just Barry boasting about how big he was, as he had frequently done in the past. It was, as I recalled, larger than any of ours by a good bit, but in this blackness I could not see it to take another visual assessment of its length. The door opened, revealing a shadow briefly before it closed again. A large shadow. A bulky shadow. A shadow that could only belong to one person. - (Paul) Harry! His entrance required a hiatus in the fellatio, but we could always resume once salutations had concluded. - (Harry) Yes, it's me. Who's here? - (Paul) Paul, Dai, Ed, and Barry. - (Harry) Barry? - (Barry) Surprise. It turns out I'm one of the Twelve. You have me to thank for your survival, Mancini, it cost me a pretty penny � and about ten inches. THAT cryptic remark went unexplained as well. I was wondering what was up with Barry � why WAS he here with the rest of us? - They brought us all here because Seth just fucked all of us. - (Harry) He fucked you? All four of you? - (Ed) All four of us. So what are YOU doing here? - (Harry) Same reason. I was stunned. - Seth fucked you? - He did. - I mean � really fucked you? In the ass? They let him? - They did. He did. - Wow, Harry. - (Paul) How was it? There was a pause and when Harry spoke, his voice was shaking, as if he was holding back tears. - Best damn moment of my life. THE WHITE ROOM � SETH Jes�s was once again on the monitor. - (Jes�s) It's five in the morning here in St. Moritz. But where you are, it's one hour before midnight. One hour before you, Seth Herrick, become literally the man of the hour. You have ably performed the first two tasks we have assigned you. Those you have fucked are comfortably in the Dark Room awaiting their fate. Tim is fine, recovering from his wounds. The others are back in the dormitory, hoping that you will do the right thing. - Which is? - Completing the third task. - Which is? Jes�s looked intensely at me. - You're not going to want to do this. - Sean told me that. Let me be the judge. - You have to do it anyway. - That depends upon what it is. - No. It doesn't. You have to do it anyway. This was getting ridiculous. - Jes�s, just get on with it. Tell me what it is that I won't want to do, and then I'll tell you if I'll do it. - Agree first, then I'll tell you. - I may break my promise. Tell me. He took a deep breath. He nodded to Hamish, who nodded to Stefan, who was waiting just outside the room. Stefan carried in a large wooden block, painted black, about two feet on a side, and placed it down in front of me. Hamish produced an axe. - That block is for Derisian. You're going to behead him. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER FORTY-NINE � AND IF I DON'T?]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-21	Date: Thu, 21 Mar 2024 11:35:09 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 21 Flight 12 � a serial novel by Travis Creel CHAPTER 21: DISRUPTIONS Previously, on the surface: * Dai, out for an early-morning wank in a known-to-be-safe area, nonetheless encounters an orange dodecagon and is taken. Like the others, he has disappeared on his birthday. * When searching for Dai, Seth and Harry hear a helicopter overhead, giving them hope of rescue. * Jordan and Miles arrive on that helicopter, and are startled when Sean, after disabling some kind of tracking device, leaves, warning them that Stimulever may search for them. Underground: * Ian requests that Stan's castration, scheduled for December 11, be cancelled or postponed. Hamish, unconvinced of Ian's loyalty, threatens to geld Ian instead. The other left-siders, including Al, Theo and Piers, face the same fate at some point. * A humiliated Leo, anxious to escape, witnesses Percy entering the Egress Room, from which transportation to the surface is possible; he is unaware that Ian has seen him doing so, or that Ian has learned the code Percy used to gain access to the room. In Switzerland: * The Stimulever board, noting Miles and Jordan's absence from Alphaworld, sends a board member, Germ�n, to Aruba to confirm that Sean has taken them to Betaworld, and, once there, discreetly done away with them, eliminating a threat to The Project. In flashbacks: * Years ago, Seth � then a married man � had a daytime sexual encounter with Sean, after which he fell asleep, which he described as `the worst mistake of my life'. * * * * * * * * SATURDAY, DECEMBER 8 * * * * * * * * ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND � JES�S - (on the phone) So, Germ�n, what do you have to report? - (Germ�n) Got here early this morning. There is no record of either Murdock or King at their hotel in Alphaworld. In Betaworld I spoke to the hotel clerk and confirmed that both arrived here Thursday the 6th and have not checked out. However, I was able to penetrate their hotel rooms, which were empty and the beds unslept in. - Consistent with Sean having disposed of them after taking them to Betaworld. - The hotel has no record of Sean, but he may have used an alias. Who knows, he may be back in Alphaworld and en route to Z�rich by now. I can't confirm that he's terminated Murdock and King. - Okay, Germ�n. Keep poking around. Show the bellboys and maids pictures of Sean, see if anyone recognizes him. If you turn up nothing by tomorrow, come on home. - Got it, chief. ORANJESTAD, ARUBA � SEAN They expected me to have killed Jordan and Miles. I didn't. Optimally, Jes�s would have no news of them and I could tell him I dispatched them in Betaworld. But more likely, Hamish would discover them � or already has � and would report it to Jes�s. My story would be that I figured Hamish would do the job for me, and, with the bodies on an island that didn't exist in Alphaworld, there would be no trace. If he didn't, well, they were still trapped in Betaworld, and thus no threat. But Sean, Jes�s would say, didn't you realize that introducing an unplanned element into the environment would throw off the physics? Gosh, no, Jes�s, that never occurred to me! Physics is not my thing. Of course it occurred to me. I doubted that their mere presence would cripple The Project, but it would throw Switzerland a curve and might disrupt things if they didn't make the right adjustments. And I was all about disruption. If Jordan and Miles were caught, I had little hope for their survival. That would cause me regret: Miles because he had faithfully played my fool, believing I was in love with him. Jordan because he was hot; I wanted to spend more time with him � in a horizontal position without benefit of clothing. It would be sad to see him go, so it was just as well that I would not be present to witness it. On the other hand, maybe they could escape detection for long enough to disrupt The Project and emerge from it whole. SOMEWHERE ON THE ISLAND � JORDAN Having slept overnight in the woods, we continued north, finding no sign of Augie or Vic � or Stimulever. Sean had advised us to avoid the west side of the island, as that was the most likely place that they would be looking for us, if they were indeed looking for us. We stuck to the woods, avoiding the beach, where we would be exposed. And then we saw something strange. Very strange. The first evidence of human presence we had seen on the island. It was a slightly-raised slab of granite, almost circular but with edges that were straight lines. I counted twelve sides. It was about a dozen feet across and sort of a teal color. Miles and I stopped to admire it. It was so smooth and polished, like a modern tombstone. It seemed like some kind of oversized talisman, like it had some mystical importance; there was something spiritual about it, like it was calling out to us. Miles seemed particularly affected, and took the moment to put his arm around my shoulder and hug me. Who had made this � and why? Was it part of some giant display of public art? Whatever it was, I approved. And we moved on. STIMULEVER BOARD � ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND - JES�S - (Ari) Hamish just transmitted. Someone's on the island. - Details. - A sensor detected vibrations at the south end of the island. Hamish sent Percy up to investigate and he found nothing. The sensor looked like it had shorted out, so he thought it was a false alarm and they didn't report it initially. However, they just got a positive hit from the teal portal. Two bodies. - Murdock and King? - I think so. The teal is too far from the Tower for it to be the Twelve. The vibrations could have come from a chopper; Sean can fly a chopper. - I presume Percy found no chopper. Sean could have dumped them there, figuring they were out of the way, or that Hamish would capture and execute them. - Exactly what he should do. - Not yet. It might be more of a disruption if they go underground. - What if they reach the Tower and connect with the Twelve? - That may cause a problem � or not. But their presence on the island will probably alter the calculations. Get Thibaut in here � Dolph as well. - I still think they should be terminated, Jes�s. - You always do, Ari. THE DORMITORY � PAUL I had just returned from a session with Anthony. He fucked me hard, then planted fifty swats on my ass with a fraternity paddle. I was sore inside and out. I still didn't understand what he was doing here � how could a guy who was my high school classmate back in Richmond be here with me now? After he fucked me that first time at his home when I was sixteen, there were more times. He was always extorting me, threatening to send pictures of me to my mom. Every time my mom had a late `meeting' � which, Anthony explained, meant that she was at a motel with his dad � he drove me to his house where we had sex, for which he always insisted I wear a jockstrap and nothing else. How's that for irony � now I'm imprisoned by a jockstrap I can't remove. And then Dai came. Dai, who I wish was fucking me instead of Anthony. Dai, Dai, sexy Dai. I wanted him. I wanted him to fill my bowels with his seed. Considering what he was going through, he probably had no seed left. For while the lieutenants focused their attention on my ass, for Dai it was his dick. FUCK ROOM B � DAI I'd arrived in a pitch black space yesterday. When I came to, there was a cage around my genitals. Despite having spewed what felt like gallons onto the giant orange phallus at the dodecagon, I was horny. They came for me, blindfolded me, took me to another room, laid me face-up on a table, and released my cock from the cage. It sprang into action, and as soon as it was hard, I felt them put something else on it, something both metallic and soft at the same time � however that was possible. It started sliding up and down my cock, sending my balls into high gear. It was jerking me off, and instantly I grew more and more excited and unleashed a gusher sooner than I ever would have expected. And then I felt stimulation in my balls, and I grew hard again. And it started jerking me off again. I knew what was happening � I was being milked. As I was being manipulated toward my second orgasm, I felt a weight. Someone had climbed up on the table, above me, and soon a cock was pressing against my lips. - Open your mouth, boy. No reason why your cock should be the only one to lose its load. The member that penetrated my mouth was large and uncut. He pushed down my throat to make me gag, but my cock was so stimulated that I didn't even mind. Despite my initiation by the Mayers at Stanford, I had spent most of my gay life on top, and preferred to have my own cock serviced than doing the sucking myself, so I was not as expert at bringing him off as I would have wanted my own partners to be. But after a while, I truly got into it, urged on by the surges in my balls, and we managed that magic moment of simultaneous orgasms. A second cock replaced the first, and the machine (for that was what it was) continued to milk me. This orgasm took longer and I began to feel pain as my cock felt like it had nothing left to give. And yet it gave, just as the man filling my mouth gave generously to me and I swallowed his milky-white discharge. I was not done. A third cock, and then a fourth pushed past my teeth and as the number grew I got more and more skilled at servicing them, even as my own cock was now being pulled so hard it felt like torture. My cock was in pain from being machine-sucked so hard when I had nothing left to give. Me, who always had the world's most voluminous output, had been milked dry � and then some. After the fourth man came in my mouth � and my cock spewed for the fifth time (a pitifully small amount), the blindfold was released. I gasped. The four men who had just raped my mouth were the Mayer brothers. The very men who had inaugurated my sex life, in a tattoo parlor. And then all four of them simultaneously pissed on my face. THE DORMITORY � PAUL - I can get us out of here. - Leo, what are you talking about? - I know how to get to the surface. - How? - I saw the flight attendant � that Percy � go into a room where there was a pole and he slid up it, like sliding down a firepole except backwards. He was going to the surface, I know he was. - Is the room unlocked? - No. There's a code. - And of course Percy told you the code. - He did say it out loud but he went too fast. We'll have to get it from him. - How are you going to do that? - We'll kidnap him and force him to give it to us. - Leo, that's a stupid plan. Number one, he won't. Number two, how are you going to kidnap Percy with all these lieutenants around? Number three, what's going to happen when we get caught? - What can they do that they haven't done already? - Kill us. - They're not going to kill us. If they wanted to kill us, they would have done it already. No, they want us down here � all of us. They're going to bring down everyone else, all twelve of us, I know it. On our birthdays. Something's going on, Paul, something's going to happen once they have us all down here. - They might kill us then. - Which is why we need to escape before they do. The last of our birthdays is on the 31st, which is twenty-three days from now. I don't know about you, but I'm not putting up with this shit for twenty-three more days. You're right, though, we need more forces. We have to recruit others. Dai, Lucas � - Lucas is on their side. - Yeah, fuck Lucas. But we'll have to � - (a new voice) What do you mean, fuck Lucas? Lucas does the fucking around here, understood? Yeah, it was Lucas, who had just entered the room, his rod parallel to the floor and stiff. - (Lucas) I'm not on their side. I'm on my side. I'm on the fuck-who-I-want-when-I-want side. And right now I want to fuck Paul. I had just come from a rather vigorous encounter with Anthony � the last thing I wanted at the moment was another cock up my ass. But there was little hope in dissuading Lucas when he had his mind � and his penis � set on something. - (Lucas) Come on, Jockstrap. Let's party! - Lucas, can we do this some other time? I'm kinda sore from � - (Lucas) Sore? Are you a sore loser? Because you are a loser, that's plenty obvious. You want me to fuck Leo instead? - (Leo) You did me this morning. It's Paul's turn. - (another new voice) Paul's turn for what? - (Lucas) Oh, hello, Jap Boy. You're looking rather limp. Have fun at the milking station? - (Dai) Shove it, Lucas. - (Lucas) That's exactly what I'm going to do. Right up Paul's pussy. - Lucas, please, I've been fucked so often today. - (Lucas) Then one more won't matter much, will it. - (Dai) Leave him alone. - (Lucas) Whoa, look at the kamikaze pilot. Acting tough for someone six inches shorter and fifty pounds lighter than me. - (Dai) Just � leave him alone. - (Lucas) Or . . . what? - (Dai) Or . . . do me instead. - Dai, you don't have to � - (Dai) No, serious. You get fucked six ways from Sunday and they leave my ass alone. All they want is to drain my cock. Take my ass, Lucas. - (Lucas) Slant-eyes, I might just take you up on that. And in seconds the `might' turned into reality. Lucas pounced and forced Dai to the floor. Before I knew it, he was splitting Dai's ass with his powerful tool and I watched Lucas's heaving buttocks as he forced himself in and out of my best friend's shapely rump. My best friend. Who else would have done this for me? I felt so humble. I felt so valued at the same time. I realized at that moment that Dai was more than my best friend. I was falling in love with him. UNDERGROUND � IAN I was falling in love with him. There was no denying it. I was in love with Stan. Why else would I have risked going to Percy to try to spare him from castration? That effort had backfired in a major way � and now Hamish was suspicious of my motives, and had demanded proof of my loyalty, threatening to substitute me for Stan on his scheduled castration date, three days away. Not that I thought that Hamish would take off my nuts. I was 90% sure it was a bluff. But only 90%. That remaining 10% made it not worth risking. But finding Percy's route to the surface gave me an idea. Of course, the first idea � now that I had the code for `odd days' � had been to grab Stan and head to the surface. The idea was satisfying, the pragmatics problematic. Once we got to the surface, then what? How did we get off the island and out of Hamish's reach? The very fact that we tried to escape would be all the evidence Hamish needed that I was disloyal. My balls would be chopped off for sure, to be followed by my head. I don't mean that literally � Hamish had more diabolical methods in his arsenal than a quick, painless decapitation. My end � and Stan's � would be gruesome and slow. No, knowing the escape route was useful information. But I would not use it to escape. ON THE ISLAND'S EAST SIDE � JORDAN Afternoon of our second day on the island. No sight of anything or anyone, other than that weirdly beautiful teal shape in the ground. Fortunately, we found plenty of fruit along the way, with enough juice in them to keep us hydrated. We had reached a point where we could see the edge of the forest. There was an open area, like a meadow. Miles suggested we go over there � we could move faster without having to pick our way around trees and fallen branches, and if Augie and Vic were anywhere around, we wouldn't see them in the woods. It was a risk, but I was increasingly convinced that Stimulever was not out searching for us, and I was tired of the slow progress we were making, so I agreed. When we did, we saw another strange thing. The meadow was all full of tall grass, the kind that came up to your waist or so. But fifty yards away was an area where the grass had been totally cut, in the shape of a semi-circle. And at the middle of the straight edge � the diameter of the semi-circle � there was a large black object, taller than either of us by several inches. Miles started to laugh. "It's a penis! It's a freaking penis!" Indeed it was. This was the second indication we had that there was a human presence on the island. And that human presence might be Stimulever. - Let's not go near it. - Don't you want to touch the penis? I mean, it's a penis as tall as either of us. - And that's . . . not normal, Miles. We're in this weird Betaworld, and maybe a giant penis in the middle of a meadow is normal in Betaworld, but until we get a better sense of where we are and what this is, I think we need to stay clear of it. - . . . Hmmm. Well, girl, you just may have a point there. Sure is beautiful, though, isn't it? I mean it's like the perfect model of a giant dildo. - A dildo for an elephant. . . . Miles. - Yeah? - Do you see that? - Do I see what? - That. Over there. It's like something bright over the tops of the trees. - Oh. Hey, yeah. - It's like orangy � no, it's more than one color, kinda hard to tell. - But not a natural object. - I think we need to go there. - It could be Stimulever. - Yeah, and it could be Augie. We're heading to the north end of the island anyway. Let's check it out � we'll be careful, but let's try to get there before nightfall. - Agreed. AL'S CELL � AL - You know a way out of here, Leo? - I do. All I need is a code. Then I can gain access to a room that leads to the surface. - So how are you going to get the code? - Percy has the code. We kidnap him and force him to give it to us. - Do you think he would? - He will if we threaten to kill him. We don't need a weapon, we could strangle him. We show him we mean business by starting to strangle him, and then when he sees that we could really kill him � he'll give us the code. I mean wouldn't you, if it meant saving your life? - I guess. But � how are you going to kidnap him? - We need a bunch of guys. I've got three from the right side of the plane � at least, I think I do � but I need three or four more from your side. Do you have anyone to suggest? - Yeah. This guy Stan � I was captured with him. And two strong guys named Piers and Theo, I think they'd go for getting out of here. PIERS'S CELL � PIERS - But there's lieutenants all over the place, Leo. They'll protect him. - Yeah, where's yours now? - I'm not sure � I guess at lunch. - Exactly. They have a routine, Piers. Every day between one and two the lieutenants aren't around. But Percy is. I've seen him in the corridors. Unless he's with Hamish, he's unprotected. We time it right, we can grab him without any lieutenants around. THEO'S CELL � THEO - Is Piers doing this? - Yeah, I've got him, plus Al and two guys from the dormitory. Al suggested a guy named Stan? - Yeah, Stan's cool. He's two cells down on the right. But you're sure Piers is doing this. - He said so. - Okay, I will, too, but only if he does. I'm not leaving him behind. - Are you like � a couple? - We run a theater company together. Piers is gay, I'm not. But we've known each other since we were kids. We're like Damon and Pythias. - Who? - Never mind. Okay, how do we do this? - Your roommates � the lieutenants � are gone from one to two, right? - More like twelve-thirty to two, but yes. - Twelve-thirty to two, perfect. We spend this time in surveillance � what's Percy doing, does he have a routine, figure out where and when's the best time to grab him when he'll be vulnerable. We do this today and tomorrow. Then on Monday we strike. - Why so soon? - There's a rumor that something bad is going to happen on the eleventh � that's Tuesday. - Something bad? - Piers told me that some of you guys don't seem to be here anymore. - Yeah, attendance at meals is getting smaller. I thought they're letting guys go. - Or maybe they're taking their torture games to the next level. The kind you don't recover from. We've got to act sooner, Theo, not later. - Monday? - Monday. STAN'S CELL - STAN - And Al is in on this. - Yeah, Al, Theo, Piers, and I think I can talk two of my roommates into it. We take it beyond this group and somebody's gonna let something slip. But with you, that's seven of us � easily enough to overpower Percy and probably a lieutenant or two if we can't get him alone. - I'll have to think about it, Leo. - What's to think about? - (A guy named Ian, that's what to think about.) . . . Okay, I'm in. I have the sense Ian's not so happy here. Maybe he wants to escape, too. . . . ST. MORITZ, SWITZERLAND � JES�S - (Ari) Chief, one of the penis portals detected visitors. Could be a Twelve, but there were two of them, and in a location that Murdock and King were headed. - They may spot the tower from there. Anything we can do to prevent them from getting to it? - You know what my answer to that is, chief. - I'm looking for non-lethal solutions, Ari. At least for now. - Maybe a deluge? Force them back into the woods for shelter? - The tower would be better shelter. A deluge would just make them seek it even more. - Yes, but the Twelve will hunker down inside the tower. Once they're in, we can lose the door handles like we did the other night. If the intruders can't get in, they may give up and go somewhere else. - (picking up the phone) Simon? Can you adjust the weather on the island? - (Simon, on the phone) What do you need? - A deluge. An absolute deluge. Flash flood type. Can you do that? - (Simon) I can. - Make it so. - Aye, Captain Picard. - Excuse me? - Never mind, chief. I forgot you don't watch much television. THE PHALLIC TOWER � SETH After talking to Harry, I'd developed a plan. We had to have a meeting. I thought we'd hold it outdoors but a storm was approaching and it looked like a doozy. As the first drops of rain hit, you could tell that torrential downpours were imminent, and a rumble of thunder was heard in the distance. We herded them all inside, and I realized that I was addressing all of seven people: Ed, Vic, Tim, Augie, Jasper, Gary/Cody/Ray and Harry. - Today marks one week since the twelve of us arrived on this island. Over the course of that week, we've lost four guys. Yesterday, we had great hope when we heard a helicopter overhead, but instead of being rescued, we lost Dai. Maybe it took Dai off the island, we don't know. But we have to take steps to protect the rest of us. I'm going to let Harry take over and discuss what we think we know about the structure of this place. - (Harry) Well, that might be overselling it, Seth, but I'll tell you what I've figured out. We've talked about all the twelves � there were twelve of us on each side of the plane, which was Flight 12, the map of twelve Federal Reserve Banks corresponded to our home cities, the dodecagons have twelve sides, the tower and the dodecagon here on the floor have twelve colors, this is December, the twelfth month, we all have birthdays in December, and the dodecagon floor displays the dates of our birthdays, all prime numbers except for 1. - (Tim) Nobody's birthday was December 1. - Abe's was. - (Jasper) Yeah, but he was on the other side of the plane. - (Vic) Maybe he was supposed to be here instead of Seth. - (Harry) We don't think so. The flight attendant moved Gary � Ray at the time, so if Abe was supposed to be here, I think he'd have been moved as well. By now, everyone knew of Gary's multiple personalities. - (Harry) Let's talk about this dodecagon on the floor and the ones outside. Each wedge has a number that's one of your birthdays. Paul, Lucas, and probably Leo were taken by dodecagons the same color as the wedge that had their birthday on it. - (Tim) My birthday's on the 23rd. And the 23 appears on the magenta wedge. So the magenta dodecagon is my dangerous one? - (Harry) Exactly. Ed, your danger color is purple, Jasper's is vermillion, Vic's is teal, mine's chartreuse. Augie's is green and Gary's is yellow � and we saw how those dodecagons affected them before. - (Seth) The red wedge with the number 1 may be for me. - (Harry) Also, we've found another `twelve'. Each of us, it turns out, was born in a different year of the Chinese calendar. Augie saw a dragon on Lucas's violet dodecagon � and Lucas was born in the Year of the Dragon. Some of us saw a rat on Gary's � and he was born in the Year of the Rat. I don't know what to make of it, but it sort of explains the images we've been seeing. - (Ed) This is all fascinating, and it's good to know I should watch out for purple � but how does that help? We tried to protect Dai, and failed. - True enough, though I don't know what else we could have done. Either he left voluntarily, in spite of all our warnings, or somehow vanished in the middle of the night, like my clothes did. - (Jasper) And Paul's. - (Vic) Yeah, this island is good for taking clothes. - (Ed) Why are we talking about clothes? My birthday is next Thursday. I want to know if I have more than five days to live. - Valid point. The next birthday is Augie's, on Tuesday. We know he has to avoid he green dodecagon. But we also suspect that the dodecagons can move. - (a cacophony) What?/Move?/What do you mean move?/ That's insane/Jee-sus! - I saw the violet dodecagon � the one that took Lucas � and I swear I passed by that same place earlier and there was no dodecagon there. - (Gary) So what does that mean, sir? - You don't have to call me `sir', Gary. It means we can't take it for granted that we know where they are. Tomorrow, we're going on reconnaissance. We're going to verify that the green and yellow dodecagons are where we saw them before. Augie, since your date is up next, it's best if you just stay here. Gary, you can look for the green but not the yellow. We're going to hunt for the others, especially the purple because that's Ed's color and he's next after Augie. We'll go in teams of three in case someone finds a dodecagon that makes them want to take off their clothes or something. - (Ed, with a glare at Augie) Not that we have that many clothes left. - (Augie) It's not my fault! - Once we find them, we're going to keep an eye on them and make sure they don't move, and make sure that the person whose color that is goes nowhere near them. Augie, on the 11th, you will have at least two others with you at all times. I'll be one of them. - (Augie) I'm scared. - Don't be scared. We'll be with you every step of the way. If they try to take you, they'll have to take me at the same time. We'll protect you, Augie. Of course, that's what we said to Dai. And what I had said so many times to my three little boys. FLASHBACK � SETH (CLEVELAND) � five years ago (continued from Chapter 17) I'd had a glorious bout of late-morning sex with Sean, on a day when I'd called in sick to work. After we had showered together and robed, we had a cup of coffee and he had coaxed me back to bed. I had to pick up the boys from day care later, but I had a couple of hours before I'd need to leave. We didn't have more sex but just lay there, bodies comfortable just being next to each other. Only I fell asleep. Waking � how long later? � with a jolt. - Shit, what time is it? - Four-thirty. - Dammit, I was supposed to pick up the boys at four! Why didn't you wake me? - I fell asleep, too. I just woke up a little while ago. But everything's fine. - Everything's fine? The boys have been waiting for a half hour. Megan will be expecting me home with them by now. - Does the day care have your number? And Megan's number? - Yes, of course. - They haven't called here, have they? If they were concerned, they would have called one of you to find out when you were picking them up. They didn't call you, they must have called Megan and she picked them up. - I would have thought she would have called me to ask why I was delayed. - She probably just hopped in the car and figured you'd sort it out later. Anyway, you seem to have needed the sleep. - I didn't . . . sleep well last night. You kept invading my dreams. - I'm getting to you, am I? - You are. Dammit, Sean, I want you. I want you heart and soul. - And body? - Especially `and body'. Only I'm married with triplets. I should never have married Megan and I should never have had kids. But I did marry Megan and I do have those boys and I love them to death and I can't give them up. And then you come along and disrupt everything. - What do you expect me to do, Seth? Give you up? You're not the only one who's fallen in love. - . . . Where's my phone? I've got to call the day care and make sure everything's okay. So far as the day care center was concerned, everything was okay. Uncle Herman had picked them up, right on time, explaining that the boys' father couldn't make it. The boys don't have an Uncle Herman. FLASHBACK � SEAN (CLEVELAND) � five years ago It wasn't official yet, but Seth had been tentatively identified as the likely Trigger. The physics and our consultant Dolph both said that our Trigger Man needed a tragedy in his life. And we were about to provide one. It was admittedly wicked of me to have slipped a sedative into his decaf. [COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO � ALTERING THE PLAN]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/bodybuilder-trains-a-new-pussie-boy/bodybuilder-trains-a-new-pussie-boy-2	Date: Mon, 18 Mar 2024 04:10:36 -0700 From: gayD Subject: Bodybuilder Trains a New Pussie Boy, Chapter 2 Brock, the bodybuilder at Gold's Gym, found his new lad, a new gym member named Chad, who he selected to train as his new pussie boy. But Chad, a good-looking, tight-bodied, straight teen, has been resisting all along the way. He gives in occasionally, but he is gut-level sure he will figure out how to escape Brock's seemingly vise-grip hold, to return soon to his wonderful normal life, and even marry his girlfriend. Probably, right? I'm Bruce Darkforce, and I write my stories in so much detail you can envision yourself there, in the story, watching the characters interact. I appreciate Nifty's kindness in posting a few of my stories (the tamer ones), and we should all support this site. Because many of my erotic stories are too intense and may involve non-consensual activities, they cannot be posted here on Nifty. So, my full collection can be found at GayTies.com. You have to join, but it's free to join. Bodybuilder Trains a New Pussie Boy Part 2 of 6 "You can't do that?" It just came out of Teenage Chad's mouth. He didn't mean it, I'm sure. It just burst forth out of his anxiety. But it was wrong. I lifted one foot, placed it on his face, and pushed hard. He fell over onto the carpet. "I can do any fucking thing I want to do with you. Do you fucking understand that? How stupid are you, you useless piece of shit?" He lay on the floor whimpering but gave Rick the username and password. Rick shook his head. "I don't know, Brock, what you see in these sniveling sissy boys," Rick said as he looked about the three-room apartment for Chad's computer and entered the bedroom. "I think they're cute. Help yourself to a beer. One of the cans has been shaken up, be careful. If you see anything of his in the bedroom you want for yourself, take it." I told my new toy to get back on his knees. "Now. You told your cunt friend you couldn't see her. Good. Did you quit your job?" He didn't answer. Did you quit your fucking job?" "Not exactly. I ... I told them I needed some time off. That I was sick. I can't afford to lose my job. It's a good job with a consulting firm, and ..." I slapped him. Not hard. "Okay, we'll take care of that this afternoon. You fucked up, and you will be punished. Did you close your bank account and withdraw all your money?" He nodded and pointed to a table where a pile of cash lay. I smiled. "Good boy. I'll check the paperwork later. And did you drop out of school?" He looked scared or sad but nodded and then lowered his head in shame as he cried. "Good. That gives us more time for our fun and games. How could you go to school, for instance, with a big dildo up your ass? I mean, you could, but it would make it tough to sit through those boring lectures. And your stomach would be rumbling all through class from all the cum you had swallowed the night before and the piss. No, it's better to drop out now. After I'm finished with you, you can always go back if you are still so inclined, which is unlikely. All right, now, we'll go and take care of your job in an hour or so, but first, I want to spend a bit of time teaching you some basic dick respect. Your job in life, your only job in life while you are with me, is to pleasure my dick! You can do this in various ways. Obviously, with your hand and mouth and asshole, but also in the way you look at my cock and in the way you talk to it. In the high level of respect, you show it. You must learn to savor the flavor of my prick. The smell of it. The texture of the cock skin and the dickhead. The salty taste of my balls. These things will fill your life, Chad, and you must learn to love them." He looked at me as if he were trying very hard to understand. I had to give him credit for that. "I just don't think I will ever be able to like that stuff. I'm just not gay. I just don't feel that way. How can I learn to love that?" "Through conditioning, Chad. Like Pavlov's dogs. You will soon learn that when you are not worshiping my dick, you will be in pain, discomfort, and distress, and the only time you are truly content and at peace is when you are loving and servicing my big fat juicy hunk of fuck meat. His nostrils glistened with snot, and his mouth hung open slightly. So cute. He was trying to comprehend how this could be happening to him. How this could be real. "My dick needs almost constant attention. Even sitting here on your couch talking to you, look how it bulges in my jeans. I'm what they call `oversexed' Chad. I need something to fuck almost constantly, and you are it. It's not my fault. It's not easy, Chad, being oversexed and having a monster-sized slab of fuck meat. I leak in my pants at the sight of a cute ass. When I try to date young dudes, they are scared shitless at the size of my fucker. What am I supposed to do, not fuck? And then, too, it's not easy to find a regular boyfriend who wants to be totally degraded in private AND in public. I mean, who wants that? So, this is the best way. For me to see a cute piece of ass like you and just take it and train it. Now I want you to lean in and bury your face in my crotch and just smell my dick through my jeans." "You want me to do that?" he asked, hoping again he had misunderstood. "Yeah. I want you to learn to love my dick smell." "I'm straight ..." he whispered. "We've already covered that!" I smiled, grabbed the back of his head, and pushed his face into my crotch. I humped my jean-covered prick against his face. "Doesn't that smell good? That is man smell. I'll bet you can't wait to taste that, huh, baby?" My pants were getting wet from his tears. My big dick was also getting hard. So, I stood up and dropped trou. My huge fucker swayed and throbbed, not quite totally hard. A long string of pre-cum hung from the piss hole in the big fat dickhead. "That's beautiful, isn't it? Isn't it, Chad? Tell me it's beautiful." He wanted to look away but couldn't. "It's ... it's ... beautiful," he mumbled without enthusiasm. That would not do. "Tell me my big fat dick is beautiful!" "Your, your big fat dick is beautiful." He looked down. "Lift your head. Look at my dick. I told you already your eyes are to always be on my dick, clothed and naked, especially naked. When my fuck meat is out, you look at nothing else. Now look at my dick and tell me what a big fat beautiful leaking cock I have." "You have a beautiful big fat leaking cock." He muttered. "Say it louder and clearer, or I will beat your nut sack with my belt." "YOU HAVE A BEAUTIFUL BIG FAT LEAKING COCK." "Ask me politely if you may lick my cock leak." "Oh, God no, please. Don't make me do that... just don't hurt Billy, please... " He started to sob uncontrollably. This cute college kid was reduced to a crybaby. My dick twitched, got even thicker, and leaked more. This was so great. I reached toward my belt. "NO... PLEASE... PLEASE... BROCK! MAY I... MAY I LICK... OH JESUS. MAY... I LICK YOUR... YOUR... COCK LEAK?" The last word sounded strange and strangled, like some foreign language. "Why yes, you may. You may lean your cute face in and stick out your tongue and catch the cock drippings on your tongue and scoop it up and taste my fine gourmet cock slop leak." The look on his face made him look suddenly like an old man. He hung there frozen in time, mouth half open. "I am waiting, Chad." Then in slow motion, he brought his face to my dick. His tongue extended, and he caught up the string of pre-fuck onto it. The slime curled on his tongue, and then the string slid over to his lips and up across his nose. My pre-fuck was covering the face of this straight college kid. "How can you lick it up if you get it on your face, Chad? Move your mouth so the fuck snot goes inside." I leak a lot. So, his mouth was soon filled with pre-fuck slop. He did. "Good boy. Now you may swallow." He did, but it wasn't easy for him. His entire body was trembling. Naked and smooth and pale and trembling. This kid was fucking freaked out of his mind. "Now I want you to kiss my dick. Remember how you kissed my dick yesterday? Now, I want you to kiss it with more enthusiasm. Kiss my cunt buster all over. Kiss it on the stalk and on the wet head. Kiss down onto my fuck sack. Kiss it all over and make it feel real good. Kiss it just like a faggot cock sucker kisses dick." He opened his mouth again, and little choppy glottal noises came out. He couldn't even find the words to protest. I gently brought his head to my prick and soon felt him softly kiss it all over. His lips were very soft and gentle. It was quite romantic, really. "Now open your mouth a little like you are tongue kissing, so you can really taste my dick. This is probably your very first time really tasting a dick, isn't it, Chad? Well, don't worry. You'll be tasting lots and lots of dick in the days to come. Or should I say, `days to CUM.' But even blindfolded, even if you've tasted 20 or 30 dicks, you will always be able to recognize the flavor of my fuck meat. You will have it in your mouth so much that the taste of my cock will be a part of you. My ball sweat will be your cologne. Kiss around the ridge of the cockhead. That's a fucking big cockhead, isn't it, Chad? Imagine how it will feel opening up your asshole. That big dickhead has caused guys and girls alike considerable discomfort. But you'll get used to it. "Some dudes say they never get used to it, that it hurts like hell every single time I fuck them, but if I fuck you enough and stretch your ass into a proper pussy, then it shouldn't hurt after a while. Right? You're trembling, Chad. Is that from excitement or fear? Your very first dick. A boy's first dick is a kind of special occasion, isn't it? You will never forget that first taste of dick. That sweaty dick flavor. Suck enough dick, and your breath smells like dick forever. Even your ex-girlfriend could be able to smell cock on your breath. And you are going to suck a lot of dick, Chad. Believe me, you are going to suck a lot of dick. Stop crying. Your tears are going to interfere with the smell and taste of my dick. Now, instead of kissing, start licking. Lick my big fat dick all over. You are going to make an excellent dick licker. I can tell that already. You have a natural talent for it." And then suddenly, in the middle of licking my cock, he just fell over. He fainted. He just keeled over and lay there. It was all too much for him. Just starting, and it was already too much for him. I knew then that I had been too easy on him. He was going to need a stronger hand. He looked so peaceful, crumpled naked on the floor. But he was not allowed to tune out ... to faint in the middle of a cock licking session. So, I gave my fucker a few yanks and sent a spray of piss down onto his face. You need infinite patience to train a new pussy boy. He sputtered, moaned, gurgled, gagged, and turned his head from one side to another. He blinked the stinging piss out of his eyes. He was totally grossed out. "All right, Chad, enough loafing, get your mouth back on my dick, and this time, it's going to taste and smell of piss, and it's your own fault!" Sometimes, the remedy is worse than the illness. Chad had revived from passing out, but he was truly grossed out that I had pissed on him to wake him up. In fact, he was hysterical, and I had to bitch slap the little fucker to get him to calm down. He couldn't get it through his thick, cute college boy's head that what he wanted no longer mattered. He belonged to me now. I grabbed a handful of tit in each hand, dragged him over to the piss-wet carpet, and ordered him to bend down and suck the piss out of the carpet. He resisted again, saying he would be sick and couldn't do it. I find that boys like Chad always underestimate their own skills and abilities. They need mentors like me to help them realize their potential. I wouldn't take no for an answer, and I put my foot on the back of his head and pushed his face into the piss carpet. While he slurped up the piss, I looked at his beautiful college boy ass. I grabbed the little cunt's hair and yanked him back to his knees. He looked absolutely terrified. I warned him that I would be really pissed if he fainted again! Then I slapped his face with my hard dick over and over. I believe it was the first dick-slapping he had ever received. Now I know many high school and college boys play "Dick Slap!" It's a common game. They slap each other's faces with their dicks, to see who can slap the hardest and leave the deepest red mark or the biggest dick welt. If you have ample meat, you can do flaccid dick slapping, but most kids play dick slap with hard-ons. Straight guys do this after a few beers all the time, so I thought Chad would be accustomed to it, but once again, he fucking freaked out. I decided a firm hand was needed. My buddy Rick was in the other room downloading all the shit off Chad's computer, names of friends, work associates, family info, everything we could use to keep the boy in line. "Look, baby, I don't want to be hard on you, but you are not getting it. I told you we can do this either easy or hard, but either way, I get what I want. So far, you have made it fucking hard on yourself. Why not calm down and listen to reason. You only have one thing to consider besides what could happen to your 12-year-old bro, Billy. You have to do every fucking thing I say. It's that simple? If you just put yourself in my hands, you won't have any problems." I need to say that I would NEVER hurt his little brother, but since that is his big concern, I might as well make that threat. It's for his own good. "You're a monster. You're a fucking monster." He spat out tears, snot, piss, and my dick leak all combined on his face to make him look cute. I grabbed his nipples and pulled him off the floor, onto his knees by his tits. "Now, is that a very nice thing to say to your new boyfriend?" I snapped my bare foot up, catching him in the nuts with it. He howled. "Is that the way to endear me to you? I've done everything to try to make you listen to reason, and you keep crossing me. You have gotten me so upset I don't even feel like continuing with your dick-sucking education. We'll move on to your asshole." I threw him to the floor, went to Rick's gym bag, and pulled out an eight-inch long, pretty hefty blue rubber cock-shaped dildo. He screamed and tried to crawl away, but the poor cunt didn't know where to crawl. He started scrambling for his bedroom, and I just let him go. Rick dragged him back, kicking and screaming. "No, please, Sir Brock, please, you can't do that. Please, not that! You'll kill me. I can't take it... please... " all kinds of shit. I got used to it. After a while, I stop listening when a boy is screaming. Again, these boys underestimate their own abilities. They have no understanding of the elasticity of their own assholes. Rick and I kicked the son of a bitch until he calmed down. I sat on his chest, my dick bobbing and leaking onto his chin and mouth. "Now listen, you mother fucker. You are wasting my time here. I don't mind a little protesting because I know this is hard for you. We all resist change, and these are some big changes in your life. I understand that. But that is exactly why you need to work with me. Believe it or not, I am trying to help you. Why are you being such a cunt?" "Okay, so I pull out a big rubber dick, and you fucking freak out! Why? Don't you realize that this rubber dick is for your own good? I want to help prepare you for all the big dicks that will fuck you. I don't want your ass ripped up. And I am sure you don't want your ass ripped up. The purpose of this dildo is to gently expand your anal canal to open up your rectum. It will stretch your ass lips and gently turn your asshole into a cunt." Snot ran from his nose. Rick leaned down and wiped some of the crap off his face. We were afraid the kid would choke on his own spit and snot, not to mention my dick leak. "You... you... can't do that. You have no right to do that to me! I don't want a cunt!" It was like he just realized what he said. His face got this comical look of horror. I almost burst out laughing. "Chad, I can do any fucking thing I want to you. And I will. Look at all the info we got from your computer. Think of the damage we could cause with that. You have no leverage, no choice, do you? Think about it. You have no fucking choice. Now we're going to open up your ass. If you don't like the word cunt, you can think of it as turning your ass into a pussy. We are going to use you like a girl, Chad, to unload our balls, to dump our jizz. Your ass will become a permanent pussy. I prefer cunt, but as I say, pussy may sound better to you. "Now, the purpose of the dildo, as I say, is to gently and safely open up your asshole. To stretch it. I know my friends will want to fuck your hole fast and hard. They are very rough boys who believe a fuck is no good unless you can hear their balls slapping on a dude's cunt pad. They don't mess around." I let my throbbing dick bob and slap gently against Chad's lips, leaving a trail of fuck snot. My balls rested on his collarbone. I wanted to make sure he could always smell and taste my dick. "So, if your ass isn't prepared. If your boy pussy isn't ready, it will hurt really badly. It will be unbearable agony. I am trying to prevent that unbearable agony by helping you get your cunt ready. And instead of thanking me, you cause a fuss. That's the problem in our relationship. Now, Rick here will help me shoot some wonderful pictures for your brand new website while I help you with the dildo." "Website?" The words came out with a thick, innocent, spit-slogged slur. "Yeah, we will create a special website for you, showing your education and growth. That way, others can share in and learn from it, as well as enjoy your experiences. Think of the happiness you will bring to thousands of men as they watch how you develop and grow. Now, I need you to kneel on the cocktail table, please. Isn't that an appropriate name, COCK-TAIL TABLE? Kneel right up on the cocktail table, Chad, on your hands and knees with your ass toward me. My God, you have a cute ass, Chad. The guys are going to go nuts fucking that. If you think you were popular with the girls, just wait until you see how the guys respond to your cute ass cunt. "It was your ass that first attracted me, you know, at the gym! I saw that bubble ass, and I said, I have got to fuck that! That was before I decided to turn you into a full-time pussy boy for me. At that time, I thought I would just pick you up, fuck you once or twice in the ass and mouth and let you go. But the more I watched you, the more I became convinced that you would make a good permanent cunt boy. I saw you were shy and knew you would respond well to humiliation and degradation. I started to wonder how low I could take you. Could I take you lower than the other boys I have trained? Could we set a new record together? Could I totally fucking destroy any self-esteem you have? Could I break you in body and spirit? And that's how this game came about." Chad slowly climbed onto the low table. "Stop shaking and crying. I have been putting up with that for a couple of hours now, and I am sick of it. Now I want you to reach back with your hands and spread your ass cheeks for me, so I can see your cunt, sorry, your pussy." With trembling hands, he obeyed. "Get over here, Rick, and take a look at this twat! Look at those pink, tight cunt lips. Jesus, does he need to be fucked. Be patient, Chad. You'll have lots of dick up there by midnight tonight. Stop whimpering. It does no good. Keep that asshole spread. I didn't tell you to let go of your globes. Spread those ass cheeks wider. I know this feels demeaning and disgusting to you. Having to kneel on a table and display your asshole for two hunky dudes. Well, get used to it. You will be showing your ass cunt to hundreds and hundreds of guys. You will get to the point. In fact, that's when you meet a new dude, you will automatically turn and spread your ass cheeks, just in case he wants to ram his dick up there." I picked up the rubber dildo and continued to talk, "Guys are going to have a hell of a time deciding which they want more, your cunt or your mouth. Most of them will have both. Now, I will be kind this time and lube your ass with some gel. Ordinarily, we won't do this because our spit is the only lube you will get. That and your natural cunt juices will start flowing once you have been fucked 20 or 30 times." The look on his face was unbelievable. It was hysterically funny. Once the hole was wet and sloppy with lube, and he was mewling like a tortured cat, I started to work the huge dickhead of the rubber dildo into his asshole. I watched the pink pucker open to admit the largest thing he had ever had in him. "Chad, I could start out with a small dildo, something about the size of a carrot or cucumber ... " I mused. "Oh God, yes, please do. Please use something smaller. Please, I am begging you..." he sobbed, more from fear than pain, as the head hadn't even popped into his cherry hole yet. "But... I think you should get used to the size of dick you will be taking right away. You would be amazed, Chad, at how an asshole can stretch. I have gotten this very rubber dick up the assholes of smaller-built guys. If they could take it, you certainly can. Are you a man or a mouse? All you have to do is ignore the pain and think only about how happy you are making me. If you make it your entire goal to please and make me happy, it won't be nearly as bad for you." Then I began to push harder. "Look at that asshole stretch. Oh, Chad, you will be happy to know you have a very elastic asshole. It will be a fully functional cunt in no time at all. Keep spreading those ass cheeks, don't make me angry. You have to help here. Don't make me do all the work." Jesus, God, the kid was in agony. Truth be told, the asshole was pretty tiny. It was one of those pretty little rosebuds you swear never dumped a decent-sized turd. I should have used my fingers first, but he made me angry by fainting on me, so I wanted him to hurt a little bit. Well, a lot, actually. Rick had to stop shooting pictures and help hold the kid still, so I could work the thick rubber cock deep into his bowels. I don't mind telling you, I had to push really hard. A couple of times, I had to give the base of the dildo a good hit with the heel of my hand to get it past some barrier or other. Of course, Chad screamed and grunted and wheezed and sobbed. They always do at first. In a few days, he'd be taking larger like a pro. "You got to learn to crawl before you can walk, Chad, and boy, oh boy, are we ever going to teach you to crawl." He was throwing his young head from side to side like a horse ridden for the first time. "Try to relax, Chad; we haven't even started yet. These games are just the preliminaries. I am just trying to get you warmed up a bit." I shoved six inches of the rubber prick deep into his guts. He made sounds like it was coming out of his throat. "You have to get used to this, Chad. You will be keeping this dildo or something very similar up your cunt all the time from now on. We want to keep you open so you stretch permanently and are ready for dick at all times, night and day." This dildo had a narrow neck near the base, so it also worked as a butt plug, which helped it stay in. Just that morning, Chad had been a happy-go-lucky college kid with a girlfriend who loved him, a good job, and a bright future. Now he was bare-assed naked on his cocktail table with an eight-inch rubber dick up his asshole. He was being turned into a fucked-up cunt boy. How our fortunes can change in an instant. I started to fuck the dildo in and out of the boy's ass quite hard. Twice, he almost fainted, and Rick had to dick-slap him. Yes, Rick had his dick out now too. How can you blame him? With Chad distracted, I shoved the beast dildo fully into his super-stretched ass canal and saw those lovely ass lips snap closed around the narrow base. It was such a tight, secure fit that I don't think he could even dislodge it with both hands. From someplace in the bedroom, Rick had found an eight by ten glossy picture of Chad's girlfriend, and now, just for fun, he stood in front of the dildo fucked boy, rubbing his leaking dick all over the face of the girl in the photo. That, for some reason, made Chad cry really hard. Now I made Chad raise his dildo fucked ass as high as he could. I slapped the base of it a few times and then took some pics of the blue rubber cock base sticking out of his hole. I forced him to get off the table and crawl around so the dildo would churn up his guts some. He was out of his mind with pain, really almost delirious. His face displayed that totally fucked-up look that I just love on a cute kid. I ordered him to stand up, which was a terribly painful struggle for him, but he finally made it. He moved like a robot, the rubber cunt stuffer causing him serious cramps with each move. "Don't worry. You'll soon get used to it, Chad. You'll soon be able to run and exercise and do most everything with it up your cunt. Not only that, but you'll move on to lots bigger ones." He tried to step toward me, but his legs collapsed, and he fell to the carpet. We laughed and laughed. His fall just caused the ass fucker to resettle deeper. He howled, and snot flew from his nostrils, and his eyes grew red. "Now listen, Chad, before we became distracted, you were learning how to respect my dick. Now, here's what I want you to do. I want you to squat in front of me. Then I want you to sit down on the dildo! Get it really nicely seated into your cunt, I mean, pussy. Then lift your head and lick and kiss my dick and balls to thank me for being so nice to you. I wanna see real respect for my cock and balls. I want a grateful look on your face. And try to smile. I like a nice cheerful cock sucker, and so does Rick. We hate all this moaning and crying. Try to be happy. Rick will let you lick and suck his dick and nuts too. And then we have to get dressed and go out. We are taking you someplace special. We might stop at your job on the way to see if anyone is still there so you can resign properly. But if it's too late, we can do that tomorrow." Chad roared like a wounded animal as the rubber dick was forced deeper into his hole when he sat on it. It did cross my mind for a second that we were perhaps starting with too large a dildo, but only for a second. Chad could learn. He would learn to take anything that I threw his way. It's not easy for an anal virgin to adjust to a huge rubber dick up his ass. Chad was in agony, which was fine with me. I fucked it in and out of his ass in several different positions. I made him stand up and walk with it in, as I knew it was stretching the inside of his rectum. Several times, his legs collapsed, and he fell down. I had him stand upside down, like a gymnast, and then lean against the sofa back to steady himself. With his feet in the air, I fucked the rubber dildo in and out of his cunt. He was pretty wiped out, and we let him collapse. Rick and I took a break to see what to eat in Chad's fridge. We made sandwiches for ourselves. I took the opportunity to have Rick take a nice heavy piss into a bowl of corn flakes, and we gave that to Chad to eat. He looked at it like it was an Alien being. "Now, Chad, lots of food you will be eating from now on will have various bodily fluids mixed in. We want you to become comfortable with all human bodily waste products. So, cereal with piss on it is nothing very extreme. You'll soon prefer nice strong male piss to milk. Here, let Rick and I also spit into the cereal a bit. Now, you will notice I did not provide you with a spoon. I want you to eat the cereal on the floor like an animal. Stick your cute dildo-stuffed ass up in the air, bend your head down, and lap the cereal out of the bowl like a good doggie. All right?" By now, Chad knew I wasn't kidding. He also knew I wasn't exaggerating. I expected him to do everything I said. Totally naked and in pain from the rubber dick up his stretched ass, he crouched over the bowl of piss-soaked cereal and gazed down into it. His lower lip trembled. "Come on, Chad, we have places to go. Eat up. Get your ass up in the air, nice and high. Spread your legs a bit so your balls can be seen." We were, of course, stripping Chad of all dignity. That was part of the fun of working over a straight boy. He extended his tongue, touched the piss-soggy cereal, gagged, and puked something onto the kitchen floor beside his bowl. It was not a lot of puke but a puddle of putrid-smelling gunk. He coughed and cried a bit. He was pretty much crying all the time, a little whimpering as he slurped it up. To be continued... Oh, My God! What will happen to poor Chad? Is his torment over? You think? But there are 4 more chapters to go. How much more public humiliation can one cute straight teen take? Tell me what you think. I'm Bruse at [email protected].
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/bodybuilder-trains-a-new-pussie-boy/bodybuilder-trains-a-new-pussie-boy-3	Date: Wed, 20 Mar 2024 05:21:10 -0700 From: gayD Subject: Bodybuilder Trains a New Pussie Boy, Chapter 3 Hi guys, Thanks for your comments, they're special. You have given me some great ideas. I'll soon post some photos of Chad on GayTies.com (as soon as I get permission) so you can see what he looks like. If I forget, please remind me. So, Chad has puked up his cereal. That's quite an insult. I mean, if you puked up YOUR piss-soak food, you'd expect to be punished, right? Well... there you go. Bodybuilder Trains a New Pussie Boy Part 3 of 6 "Bad boy. Now, look at what you have done. You have vomited on your nice, clean kitchen floor. How rude! Chad? Rick didn't have to give you his piss on your cereal. But he did. It was so kind of him. Now you will have to lick up all your puke!" He lifted his head to look at me with sad, weary eyes. "Please ... " He slowly shook his head no. His mouth moved, but no other words came out. "No? Did you shake your head, no? Are you still refusing orders after all I have been through with you today?" I was out of the chair in an instant. I grabbed a wooden cooking spoon out of a container on the counter. Rick was right with me. We can't stand uppity little cunt boys. We expect any boy with whom we work to obey instantly and completely. Rick kicked Chad over onto his back on the kitchen floor. Then he knelt down and forced the kid's thighs apart. I took the wooden spoon and thwacked the boy hard in the scrotum. You could hear not only the splat of the wood against the scrotum skin but also the thud of the spoon actually hitting the nuts. Chad went wild. He threw himself in pain, and Rick had everything he could do to hold the little twat still. "WHYYYYY?!" He howled in torment, twisting on the linoleum. However, since I had already addressed that issue several times, I didn't feel the need to answer. I smacked his beautiful, full young nuts again, watching the eggs dance in their skin sack. The boy's toes curled, and his legs tightened with tension. He threw his head from side to side. "You brought this on yourself. Do you understand, Chad? You will never say no to anything I tell you to do! Do you understand that?" "Yes, yes, Oh God, yes. Please stop. Please STOP!" He lay on the floor in a mess and in tears. "Well, crawl on up and lick up your puke! Rick and I are waiting." He struggled to his hands and knees again, and like an animal, he lowered his head and began to lap at his own vomit. "That a boy. Ass up, legs spread a bit. Your balls are swollen now and look really nice. After you finish the puke, you may eat your cereal. I am sorry that the taste of the cereal may be spoiled a bit by the vomit flavor in your mouth, but it's your own fault." Chad lapped up his puke and finished the cereal, too. This time, it all stayed down, which proves that a boy can do more than he thinks he can if he puts his mind to it. I always tell boys that, but they seldom believe me. I found a chocolate chip cookie and placed it on a plate. "Okay, now, you are doing a good job. So, I have a little reward for you. All of this activity has made my dick leak pre-fuck pretty badly. I leak a lot naturally, Chad. You will discover that. One of your jobs will be licking up the leak from my dick. But for now, Rick and I will give this cookie a nice pre-cum frosting for you. Don't think I'm crazy. We're not just fooling around here, although it is fun. I want you to get used to the taste of our cock leak. Lots of dudes I know train their girlfriends this way. They get the bitches used to the taste of dick sauce by putting it on and in their food." We had enough pre-fuck to give the top of the cookie a glistening, slimy frosting. I smiled as I presented the plate to Chad. "Here you are, baby. I hope you have no hard feelings about the nut beating. I don't like to hurt you. I want us to only have good times together. Now eat your cookie." He took the cookie and looked at it like a recently orphaned child. Then he looked up into my eyes with a pathetic puppy dog look. "What do you say, Chad?" "Thank you." he barely whispered. "Thank you, what?" I gently asked, enjoying his corn flake and piss-smeared face. "Thank you, Sir," he said louder. I patted his head. "It's got some of Rick's fuck slop on it too." He turned his head toward Rick as if it were painful to do so. "Thank you, Sir," he said to Rick. "You're quite welcome, Chad!" Rick said, "But your main respect and obedience goes to Brock." There is an inherent thrill for a male to break another male. You see it in sports competitions, certainly in war, and even in business. You see it in college fraternity rituals and activities. Guys naturally love to degrade other guys. To see them lose. It's part of our untamed nature. "Now, Chad, you may go to the bathroom and clean yourself up. Take a shower. You may remove the dildo to clean up inside your asshole. Get yourself real clean inside because you are going to get fucked." He whimpered. "Oh, don't be such a baby. Little boys get fucked all the time without making the fuss you're making. After you are clean, inside and out, replace the rubber dick in your ass. Push it all the way in until your ass lips grab the base. It should stay in place by itself. Then, make sure to brush your teeth and gargle. We'll be waiting for you, so don't take forever." Forty minutes later, Chad stood before us with a towel around his waist, spic, and span. "What the fuck are you doing with that towel on? You are to be totally bare-assed naked with us at all times unless told differently." "Sorry, it was just habit," he said, sort of like a frightened animal. He dropped the towel. "That's all right, Chad, I understand. We all have old bad habits we need to break." I ran a hand down his shoulder to his pec and played with one of his tits. He closed his eyes but didn't move. He was slowly learning. "He's got good titty potential, don't you think, Rick? "I think we should give him some titty implants, beef up those udders a bit." "A good exercise regime can do that. We're going to the gym now, Chad. Rick has some buddies of ours meeting us there." "But... My clothes ... Sir. My clothes are all in plastic bags. I need..." "Oh, I know. I haven't forgotten. Rick brought something for you to wear. As I told you, we will select all your clothes from now on. You don't have a flattering sense of taste. Here." I threw down a light green string thing onto the floor in front of him. His confused boyish look really gave my dick a lurch. "What is that, Sir?" "That's your clothing, dumb shit! That's what you're wearing to the gym." This gadget had to be seen to be believed. "It's also called a mankini." Two spaghetti-thin straps went over the shoulder and down into the ass crack. These thin straps were connected to a very, very tiny prick pouch. The pouch was so small and hung so low that it revealed his dick root. It was barely acceptable anywhere and totally obscene in most places. Chad was about to protest that he couldn't wear such a humiliating, obscene ... thing. But I raised one hand threateningly, and he shut up. Well, he made a moaning sound and picked up the thong. It really was outrageously lewd. Chad slipped into it. The pouch was so small that if he moved wrong, his nuts showed or his dick root or both. Too bad he was so nicely endowed. It made wearing the garment worse. Well, how embarrassed could he feel wearing it? After all, he had a huge rubber dildo up his ass, and since the thong had nothing in the rear except string, the ass plug clearly showed! As had put on the sting thing. Rick was working on the front door knob. He fucking removed it. "Oh Rick, look. So much of Chad's prick and ball hair shows. That is truly unsightly. Why not pop into the bathroom and fetch a razor. Let's just trim that a bit." Chad screwed up his cute face. "Oh Please ... " I smiled. "Don't worry, we'll get you looking real good! Can't have curly prick hair sticking out the side of your thong pouch, now can we?" Our poor little college freshman was getting a work over, and the fun was just starting. We got his prick patch cleaned up. We didn't shave him entirely down there yet. We wanted to save that fun for later. Then I was about to toss him a pair of flip-flops, but why ruin his overall sense of nakedness. "Okay, pal, let's go to the gym." I opened the door and went into the hall of Chad's apartment. Some teenage boys were hanging around down the stairs on the next landing. I knew this would be fun. "Chad, come on, we'll be late." He slowly edged into the hallway, looking obscene. He could hardly walk with the dick plug up his ass, so his gait was stiff and awkward. When he moved wrong, the stem of his dick was revealed at the top of the pouch, or his ball skin became visible out the pouch bottom. Oh, so perfect! Still, he was "covered," so there was nothing illegal about him. "Do I have to wear this?" He asked with a pleading look when he heard the voices of the teenage boys below us. "FUCK! They know me!" "Yes, Chad, you have to. Now come on." I walked in front of Chad, and Rick followed him. You should have heard the screams of delight from the four teenage boys when they saw this almost totally naked college dude in only a string thong. "Jesus, Christ, Chad, what the fuck are you doing?" One cute kid of about fifteen shouted. The others slapped their thighs in hysterics and busted a gut laughing. "We never knew you were a faggot ... " One boy said, jumping out of the way in case Chad or Rick, or I took a swing at him. "I always knew he was a fag, because he always looked at my bulge." Another boy shouted, squealing with laughter in a way only boys of that age can, half boy, half little girl voice. "Now, we know where to go for free blow jobs." The first boy said with scorn as if he were disappointed in Chad. Perhaps he had idolized him before. Well, no more. We continued down the hall and down the stairs. Chad was crying again, tears running down his cheeks and dripping from his chin. "Holy Christ, look at this. He's got a rubber dick up his ass!" The boys all scrambled to see. Neither Rick nor I tried to stop them. "That is the sickest thing I ever saw! I'm gonna report him to the manager. We don't want some twisted faggot cock sucker in our building." Chad turned. His jaw worked. His eyes were filled with tears. "I'm ... I'm ... not ... " "CHAD!" I barked. Then I turned to the boy. "Look, boys, my name is Brock, and you guys might actually want a cock sucker in the building. Imagine getting your dicks sucked whenever you please. From now on, his door will always be unlocked. Actually," I had to chuckle, "We just removed his door knob. You guys, and anyone else who wants to use his ass hole or mouth hole, can just walk in. great, huh?" "Oh wow! Thank you, Mr. Broch!" one of the boys said. "Yeah, all you got to do is go right in, say, 'Open up, Faggot,' and he'll suck your dicks for you. Any time, night or day. Totally free. Can't you get a better deal than that? My buddy and I are totally straight, but we use the faggot to suck dick. We also love to have fun with him, like making him dress really faggy like this. You might want to have fun with him, too." "Could we? Could we do nasty shit to him, Brock?" The 15-year-old said with a spark in his eye. I knew he had natural talent. "Of course, but if you tell management, you'll lose your faggot. So, hush on that. OK?" I continued, "No one will stop you. Certainly, not the fucking faggot here. If he doesn't do everything you tell him to, report it to me, and we'll take care of him. We'll be around a lot for a while, so you feel free to tell us if he misbehaves. A boy of about thirteen frowned. "What do we get him to do?" Another boy kicked his buddy playfully. "Sick shit, ass wipe! We can make him eat garbage and clean our jock straps with his mouth." "That's the idea, boys. You just be as creative as you can. And don't go too easy on him. Faggots need a good punch or kick every now and then. We had to slap his balls a little while ago to get him to drink our piss." You should have seen the wide eyes the boys made. "Drink your piss! Holy shit, that is fucking gross." The boys were looking at one another like it was fucking Christmas morning. "Oh yeah, he'll drink all your piss anytime you want. Your other friends' piss too. Get a gang to come over and use him as a toilet." "Brock, you got to be kidding." the cute 15-year-old with the twinkle in his eye said. I stopped and turned. "No, I am not kidding at all. Any of your dudes need to take a leak?" "Please ... " Chad whined. "Yeah, I got to pee!" said the 15-year-old. He seemed the bravest of the bunch. "You heard the man, Chad. Kneel down and open your mouth." "Please, sir, not here, in public?" Chad pleaded but continued to open his mouth. "Holy Fuck, he's going to do it," another boy squealed as Chad sank to his knees. "Whip it out," I said to the cute teen, wanting to get a close-up look at his boy meat. The kid unzipped and fished out a nice hunk of fuck hose for a kid. He was still young but already hefty, meaty, and thick. "What's your name, Kid?" "Jack!" he said, smiling at me with a corny, kid smile. "You live here?" "Yeah, why?" He stood there holding his dick. "You will be in charge of Chad when he is home here. He needs constant discipline. He must be put in his place and reminded that he is a fucking faggot hole all the time! Anything you can think of to do to him that is totally nasty, you just go ahead and do it. There are some rules, but I'll tell you what they are later. Here's my card with my email address on it. Shoot me an email, and I'll write back to you about our faggot training. You want to help us train faggots?" He nodded. Shit, he was cute. "You bet," he said, a huge grin on his face. He was stilling, holding his fat young 15-year-old dick. "Okay then, head back, Chad. Open wide. Don't spill any now. You just showered. Now relax and pretend you are a urinal! Just keep saying to yourself, 'I'm a fucking urinal. I'm a fucking urinal.' Go ahead, Jack, don't be shy." Jack stood up next to Chad, his teenage dick hanging over Chad's cute face. It was a hot sight. Jack shook his dick and squeezed. "I can't make the piss come ... " he said, a silly look on his face like he was letting us down. "Just relax, boy. It's always difficult the first time you piss in a faggot's mouth. You'll get used to it. Just think of his face as a toilet. That is all faggots are good for. That and sucking dick. Go ahead. Just take a deep breath and relax." He stood there for a minute, and then suddenly, a burst of yellow piss shot out of his cute dickhead and splattered Chad in the face. "Oh shit, Brock, sorry, I missed," the kid said, embarrassed as hell. "That's okay. It's not your job to aim. It's the faggot's job to catch all the piss. You just let go and let the faggot scramble for it. Get that piss, Faggot." The other boys were totally silent now. I could spot some teenage hard-ons in their pants. This was turning out better than I could have imagined. Jack was pissing a nice strong stream now right into Chad's mouth. Chad was moaning as his mouth filled up with piss like a reservoir. "Finished pissing? Okay, then let the faggot toilet boy suck the last drops of piss from your dickhead. Go ahead, Faggot. Suck the piss from Mr. Jack's big dickhead." Chad groaned but dutifully sucked the boy's cockhead. Jack closed his eyes like he was in heaven. And he was. I'll bet he had never had a mouth on his dick. "Well, we got to go. We'll be back later, and we can talk more about how you dudes can use the faggot. Okay? See you around." "See you, Mr. Brock ... " the boys chanted in unison. They were frozen in awe. We walked Chad out to my car. He whimpered, of course, being exposed to the neighborhood. He was wearing nothing except his stupid string thong, which left nothing at all to the imagination. "Chad, you can't sit in my good car covered in wet piss. How about doing some jumping jacks until the piss dries?" There were a couple of transients, one pushing a shopping cart full of junk. They were halfway down the block but coming our way. Chad didn't want to comply, so I gave his bare-ass a few hard spanks to get him going. "Why is that guy dressed so stupid, Mister?" one homeless guy asks. "He's a cock sucking faggot, and we are making an example of him. Do you gentlemen know what a cock sucking faggot is?" "Yeah, but not looking like a freak like this." "Here, let me show you what our special cock sucking faggot does. Down on your knees, Chad, open up." "OH no, not here. Not in public. Not in front of these fucking hobos!" His face pleaded with me, too, all squinty-eyed and droopy trembling lips. "You'll be punished for your rudeness. Now, down on your knees, Chad!" He fell to his knees on the pavement. "He's got something sticking out of his ass! What's that?" The cart pusher asked. "That's a dildo. We keep his ass plugged because faggots are very nasty naughty guys, and if we don't keep his asshole plugged, he will be shoving things up it." "EEccchhhh! What kind of things?" "Anything he can get his faggot hands on. Candles, wooden spoons, pens, wieners, carrots. Some faggots think it feels good to shove things up their asses. "Gentlemen, it might feel really good to faggots, I admit that, but it's not a good habit to get into. Sure, every dude tries it a few times. Every kid I know has tried to shove something up his ass, like a pickle or a cucumber, say, but it's not good to do it too often. Now watch, and I'll show you why Chad is a cock sucking faggot." I opened my pants and hauled out my big fat dick. I made sure the boys saw it clearly. I know how kids that young idolize a good hunk of fuck meat. Rick stood guard in case any adults happened by. Of course, people could have been watching from the houses, but we were blocked by our car on one side and some trees on the other. "Open up faggot, and lick and suck my dick and balls for these gentlemen." Chad was a brand new faggot, so it took him a while to get up the courage. Or perhaps to break down completely. Anyway, it took a slap on his head to get him licking and sucking my meat. They stood dumbfounded. "Nothing feels better in the whole world than getting your dick licked and sucked. Believe me, gents, no feeling on earth is as good as this. I'd let him lick and suck you guys, but were have to be on our way to the gym now." We sent the two filthy bums on their way. I told Chad to sit in the front seat beside me while Rick climbed back. Chad began to get in, grateful to be hidden, but I stopped him. "Chad, how fucking impolite are you. You can't wear that string suit in the car. That's your gym thong. Take it off before you get into the car." "Please, sir, I'll be naked." His lower lip trembled so badly he could hardly get the words out. He had a little of my pre-fuck near the corner of his mouth. It was really cute. "Yes, of course, you will be naked. When you ride in my car, you are naked." I watched as he peeled off the string thong. I mean, why make such a fuss, the fucking stretch pouch with shoulder straps barely covered anything, to begin with. As he stripped naked, his fat dick and balls jiggled and danced. Chad was left standing there on the sidewalk as Rick and I got in, started the car, and let the engine idle. Only then was he allowed to crawl in. He slid into the car, filled with shame. He must have moved wrong with the dildo up his ass, which caused him to let out a shriek of pain, which gave Rick and me a good laugh. His smooth, well-toned body looked beautiful there in my car. He put his legs together and jammed his fists into his crotch, trying to make himself as small as possible. We drove away. "You are not sitting properly, Chad. The proper way to sit in a car is with your legs spread and your feet up on the dashboard." "My feet ... but everyone will see ... " I gave him a withering glance, and he complied. He spread his young, solid legs and placed his feet on the dashboard before us. Anyone passing could see his feet, so they, of course, would look into the car, where they could easily see the rest of him naked. "Chad, what if someone does look into the car. I won't have you embarrass me. Look at that disgusting fear-shriveled dick. Get it hard at once. Be proud of yourself. Show anyone looking in what a fine hunk of fuck meat you have. Go on, jerk your meat for us." Chad released one of those cute sobs and started fingering his meat. "I didn't say finger it like a 13-year-old. I said jerk it! I want to see that dick rock hard and leaking." With ragged breath and a sweet look of total humiliation on his face, Chad sat in my car, masturbating his dick. I pulled through a park where a bunch of red bandana-wearing -- presumed -- gang members were horsing around and smoking pot. "Oh, don't go over there, please ... " Chad wailed. "Just keep jerking your meat like a good boy, baby. Make me happy." I slowed down so the guys could see Chad's face and feet through the window. They could also see his shoulder working up and down. They knew the score. They knew what he was doing. Now, I am not so foolish as to put myself in jeopardy by confronting a gang out here. My safety plan was to keep the engine running and my foot on the gas, ready to shoot out of here like a bat out of hell. I do protect my property, as all good Masters do. "There's a dude in that car, watching us and jerking his meat!" One of the Latino guys, a tall, thin boy, shouted. "Fucking pervert!" Another guy yelled, and the gang of teens began running for the car. Yes, I was being careful and watched if they would get aggressive. They were bare-chested with low-slung pants and their boxer shorts showing at the top. "That Faggot is bare-assed! Look at him. He's bare-assed!" They almost skidded to a halt, bumping into one another. Their mouths hung open, but their eyes were hungry. "Chad. Open the car door so these gentlemen can see you masturbating." "Oh, God! Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God!" Rick reached up from the back seat and gave Chad a whack on the head. "Do it!" he growled. Chad opened the door, and the gang of older teen boys let out a howl of mocking laughter. "Look at the fucking faggot. Do you fucking believe it?" "Chad, take your feet off the dashboard, turn, and place them on the ground outside the car so you are facing the boys with your legs spread. Continue to beat your dick." "Just keep jerking your meat like a good boy. Make me happy." I slowed down so the ruffians could see Chad's face and feet through the window. They could also see his shoulder working up and down. They knew the score. They knew what he was doing. "We should get the fuck out of town, scumbag!" one of the teens yelled, perhaps the leader, but he spoke with a sort of smile. He didn't seem truly threatening. "There's three of them in the car, and the other two look pretty mean. Better just stay here." "Yeah, there's three of them and six of us!" Another gang member shouted. "Just stay away from them. They could all be homos!" "Look at that fucking freak cranking his meat right in front of us! Looks like he's crying. Is he crying? Why is that faggot crying and jerking his dong?" The boys were about seven feet away from the car. "All right, Chad, give them a big smile like you want to invite them all to come over here and fuck you up the ass." Then added, "Now lift and spread your legs and start to fuck the dildo in and out of your asshole for these gentlemen." My poor Chad was making sick animal sounds. He sobbed and sobbed as he lifted his strong young legs. He had to lean back against me to get the proper angle so the teenage boys could see his plugged asshole. "Jesus Christ, the freak has a dildo up his ass!" "I don't fucking believe this. We should call the police or something." "This is the sickest thing I ever saw!" But they were all rooted to their places, watching Chad work the rubber dick in and out of his asshole. "Faster and harder, Chad. Fuck yourself faster and harder for these gentlemen." I knew he must be in terrible pain. Up until a few hours ago, he had been an anal virgin. He must be churning up his guts really good. The grunts coming from him were making me hard as a rock. These poor straight gangbangers sure seemed really interested and excited. Chad was going to town, fucking and grunting and moaning and crying all at the same time. But we had to move on. I didn't want to get too involved with this Latino gang. You never know when they might actually charge us. "Okay, back in the car, baby. You did an excellent job. That's what I like. I like to see you obeying. See, when you obey, everyone is happy. Okay, feet back up on the dashboard and jerk that dick again. Wave to the boys and close the car door!" "We're gonna call the police and report you!" the leader shouted, giving us the finger. Too bad I didn't have more time to play with them. And luckily, I had removed the license plates from my car, so they couldn't report it. We zoomed away, Chad next to me, trying to control his crying as he beat his meat diligently. "See, Chad. Isn't this more fun than having a girlfriend? I knew you'd enjoy it once you got into it. And it sure beats school and a job; nothing but sex and fun with your new best friends." We drove a bit more out onto the highway. It was getting dark now. "Chad, I want Rick to get some nice photos for us to post on GayTies.com. So, can you pull the dildo out of your ass?" Then I thought further. I told Rick, "We'll post the photos, but let's also upload some videos of Chad dildo fucking himself." "So, Broch? These will be in the `Solo Sex' category of GayTies videos?" "Sure, why not." "GayTies?" Chad mumbled. He looked at me, scared as shit of what this meant. Of course, he never heard of GayTies. It's a stand-alone site hosted by Masters. Masters who want to put their slave-shit sub performances online. Chad just focused on fucking himself with the dildo until I told him to stop. Then he pulled the big rubber dick totally out of his ass, wincing and making a sound like a car with bad brakes. I glanced down and laughed at how red and raw the hole was and how stretched open it was. Nice. Rick told him to show his ass to the mirror. "Look at your asshole, Chad. It's becoming a pussy already. And we haven't even been at this a whole day. Look how nice and big that hole is." He lifted his balls to get a look at his new cunt and wailed in horror. His rectum was red and raw, and the puckered asshole was the size of a half dollar. "You've ruined me for life ... " he moaned. "Don't be stupid, baby. Assholes are like twats. They close up again after a while. It will take weeks of work for you to get it to stay open like that all the time. You can't turn an asshole into a cunt overnight." He cried and cried. "I don't want a cunt ... " he managed to say between gulps of air. I reached over and patted Chad gently. "That's what they all say at first. I don't want to get fucked. I promise you, Chad, if you apply yourself and work hard with us, you will learn to love dick up your ass. You will learn to love being a fucked out pussy slut for massive fuck meat. You will learn to be proud of your cunt and what it can do." To be continued... So, Chad doesn't want a cunt? Who the fuck is Chad to say what he wants. It's not up to him, right? Of course, we don't know yet if Chad will or can be trained to be Brock's new pussie boy. Maybe he's too resistant, too independent, too straight. You think? There is that old adage, "A man convinced against he will, is of the same opinion still." BTW, do support Nifty. And let me know your comments, Bruce Darkforce [email protected]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/bodybuilder-trains-a-new-pussie-boy/bodybuilder-trains-a-new-pussie-boy-1	Date: Fri, 15 Mar 2024 08:52:23 -0700 From: gayD Subject: Bodybuilder Trains a New Pussie Boy Hi guy This is a story I wrote a long time ago, but I am rewriting it now and making it more detailed and longer. My outline is for 6 chapters. Here`s what we have so far. A bodybuilder uses Gold's Gym to scout for cute, tight-bodies, younger newcomers to approach and to be trained to serve him as his extreme subs. BUT, he has a particular requirement, THEY MUST BE STRAIGHT. Most of my stories are on GayTies.com because they are too extreme or non-consensual to be posted here. I love extreme. (Nevertheless, do support Nifty and donate here.) Bodybuilder Trains a New Pussie Boy Part 1 of 6 What I like best about Gold's Gym is that everyone there is serious about working out. I like that. I work out hard, and I like to be around real men. I'm not talking about straight or gay men who are really into developing their bodies, guys who are nicely toned. I am gay and not closeted, but I don't discuss it here. I'd guess almost all the others are straight. That's important to me. I like to be around a field of well-toned straight guys. You see, I prey upon them. I like to corral one of them occasionally and make them my boy toy, my sexual trainee, my bitch. But ... I am very particular about who I choose. After a long dry spell, I saw him working out. His name was Chad. Perfect. He was about five foot eight, with a nicely built but not overly muscular body. I like my fuck toys to be fit, but not more than I am. Over the past week, I'd work out near him and listen in on conversations he had with other gym members. I'd gradually build a profile and methodically planned my steps to conquer the lad. I'm patient in that way. He was a college student working at an investment firm while he studied. He was totally straight and had a girlfriend. I heard something about engagement plans in the summer. I wouldn't have it any other way. I do a lot of research on a boy before approaching him, but with Chad, I knew the first time I saw him at the gym that I had to have his ass. More than that. I had to have him crawling at my feet, a totally broken piece of boy pussy. So, I bided my time. When you are choosing a boy cunt you have to find someone who might be subconsciously submissive. Don't get me wrong. Not a wuss! I like nice, strong, sharp, intelligent young men, but guys who lean toward being socially quiet are perhaps somewhat introspective. Chad kept mostly to himself around the gym. He would not smile at other guys except the few who seemed to be his friends. Other than that, he minded his own business. My buddy owns this gym and knows what I am into, so he helped me out by providing file info on my prospective boy toy. Chad worked out later in the evening. This was great for me because the gym was pretty empty then. I looked at him in the shower several times to ensure the smooth bubble ass was as perfect as I had suspected. It was. A nice, deep crack. He had a good chest with the kind of puffy nipples that I love to turn into juicy sow tits. The bonus was that he had a full thick dick that hung over a hefty sack of nuts. Those nuts would be really fun to play with. In case you have not figured it out, I play rough, and before I was through with the young male cunt, he would be hauling heavy cement blocks across the room by his nuts alone. I liked his young, intense, sensitive face, the face of an up-and-coming businessman. Or of an up-and-coming cunt fucked cock sucking piece of boy shit! When I was ready, I approached him. I had to take a pass four evenings in a row because of other guys working out. But on the fifth day, I had my young prey to myself. He returned from showering with his towel wrapped around his trim waist. He seemed a bit shy and modest. Chad kept himself covered. He went to his row of lockers and sat down, perplexed at seeing his locker open and EMPTY. I stood nearby, totally bare-assed, my fuck meat twitching. "I broke into your locker and emptied it out," I said cheerfully. He turned to stare at me, not even certain at first that he had heard correctly. I want to say though I am very physically fit and athletic, I do have a calm, gentle voice, almost effeminate in tone and manner. That's just me. "You broke into it?" He frowned. He was a cute young fucker. I saw the muscles tense beneath his smooth skin. He had only minimal body hair and a real boyishness about him. "Well, not really. The boss here is a friend of mine, and he gave me a bolt cutter. I mean, I broke in, but with his knowledge. You're Chad. I have been wanting to talk to you for a while." He was confused, which is an excellent state for a future boy cunt to be in. "Where are my clothes, gym bag, my wallet, and shit?" he looked furious and was cuter when angry. He actually made fists. I raised one hand. "Calm down, young man, calm down. Take it easy." I smiled at him. He didn't seem intimidated by my nakedness and the casual ease with which I placed one naked foot up on the bench next to him, making my dick and fuck sack wobble. "Maybe I don't want to calm down. What the fuck is going on? Maybe I want to see the manager!" He started to move past me, and I put one hand on his smooth, naked chest. "Please, allow me to explain." He stood down. He didn't know where to look, as I was there blocking his way, totally bare-assed. "I locked your stuff in another locker for safe keeping. It's all there." He blinked at me nervously and licked his full young future cock sucker lips. "And why did you do this?" he asked with a sneer. "So that you would have to hear me out. I want to chat with you about our future relationship and make sure you hear me out." "What fucking future relationship! I don't even know you." He shifted from one wet foot to the other, and his towel slid lower on his hips, showing me a nice hard lower abdomen. In my calming, charming voice, I continued, "Well, that's the thing. You don't even know me, so will you just calm down, please, and listen to me?" I smiled my friendliest smile. He raised his hands, open palms toward me. "All right. All right. What do you want?" I broadened my smile. "That's better. Let's get along." "I repeat, what do you want?" "I want to fuck your ass." You could have cut through the silence in that locker room with a knife. The kid stared at me in silence for about fifteen seconds, but it seemed like fifteen minutes. His cute mouth hung open in disbelief. "Did you just say what I think you said?" "I said I want to fuck your ass. You have a very cute ass, and I want to shove my dick up it. I have a huge dick, and it will probably hurt like hell the first five or six times, but eventually, it should be no problem." I kept my smile. His breathing grew heavier with tension. He curled his lower lip and glowered at me. I readied myself in case he was about to take a swing at me, but he stifled his anger. "Look, buddy, you've got the wrong dude. I'm not gay. Okay?! Now give me back my clothes and let me the fuck out of here." "Oh, I know you're not gay. I wouldn't be interested in you if you were. I want one hundred percent pure virgin boy ass. I also enjoy breaking in a straight boy." "I have had enough of this shit!" he said. He was finished with me and tried to push himself around me. I threw him back against the lockers hard. I knew the metal handles and hanging locks must have hurt. He grunted and winced, and I moved in. I bitch slapped him half a dozen times, forehand and backhand. I was not gentle. His cute face swung from side to side, spit flying. I held him by the throat and slapped that cute face until my hand prints could be seen on his cheeks. Anger was replaced by terror in his eyes. "Shut the fuck up, and don't make a scene. Calm down, do you hear me?" I slapped him again. "Do you hear me?" He was whimpering now, and blood trickled from one corner of his mouth. "Nod if you hear me!" He nodded. I spun him around and sat him down on the bench. I stood over him. My dick hung above his mouth and swung in front of his face. "Chad, you will have to settle down and listen to me. All of this commotion will only hurt you. I need to talk to you." He wiped the blood off on the back of his hand and started to rise again, and I pushed him back down hard. "Sit still." "Help me, somebody help me ... " he tried to yell, but another hard slap cut him off. My buddy Rick, who runs the place, saw to it that the locker room was "temporarily" closed. Chad was crying now, pretty hard. I love to see a young man cry, especially a well-built, straight young hunk of a man. It makes my dick hard. I wanted to control my dick on this particular occasion because my fucker is pretty awesome, and I didn't want to scare the little shit too much in the beginning. I stood over him. "Take off your towel!" I ordered calmly. He looked up at me, terrified, and shook his head. I grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back. Of course, I could reach down and rip his towel away, but I wanted him to begin to learn to obey. "Take off the fucking towel. I don't like giving orders twice." He whipped the towel off and sat there naked. My foot was up on the bench next to his thigh, and my fat dick almost hit him in the face as it swung back and forth. His mouth moved, but no sounds came out ... then finally, "Why are you doing this to me?" "I told you because I want to fuck you." "I have had enough of you, FUCKING LEAVE ME ALONG!" he yelled. We struggled again; I threw him on the floor. Then pulled him up to a standing position and bitch slapped him again. I smacked him really hard with the back of my hand, then immediately with my open palm. Back and forth. I didn't stop. A lot of his spit and a little of his blood were splattering out of his mouth. He put his hand up to signal me to stop. But I knew I needed an unconditional surrender. He tried to put both hands up, and I gave him a few easier smacks, then stopped. He started to sob as I held him by a fist full of hair on his head. "But I'm not ... I don't want you to fuck me!" I was still holding him by the hair. "That's the first thing you need to understand. What you want doesn't matter anymore. It doesn't mean fuck. From now on, it's all about what I want. You need to understand that. Now spread your legs wide. Whenever you sit from now on, you will sit with your legs spread wide and your knees pushed out to each side." He whimpered and tried to turn away, but I had him by the hair. "Do you want me to slap you some more?" He made kind of high squealing noises. "I assume that is a no. Then spread your fucking legs." He did. He does have a really beautiful cock, nice and plump. And his nuts ride low in a nice long full fuck bag. He sat there, legs spread, toes curled in terror, looking up at me. I smiled and eased myself down onto the same bench a short distance from him, straddling the bench so I could face him. "If you had just listened to me calmly, I wouldn't have had to get violent with you. Now, can we please talk like two mature adults, please?" I put a hand on his naked shoulder. I could see he thought about pulling away and decided against it. "Good boy." "Here's the deal. I find myself very attracted to you. So, I want to fuck you, but that is just the tip of the iceberg. You see, I am into heavy humiliation and degradation. This is how I get off. So, you and I will undertake a sort of training program. I am going to train you to be my own personal little fuck pig. I am going to humiliate you privately and publicly. I will fuck your ass and teach you how to suck dick. Now, listen carefully. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way is for you to understand and just do everything I tell you to. The hard way is for you to resist. Either way, I get my way in the end. It doesn't matter to me. Are you with me so far?" I smiled and gently kneaded his naked shoulder in a caring way. He pulled his legs together slightly. "Ugh, ugh, ugh, legs spread wide." I grabbed one puffy pink nipple and pinched. His eyes grew wide. Again, he tried to speak but couldn't. His legs opened wide, and his exposed dick trembled a bit. "We are going to have lots of fun together. You need to relax and accept your fate. You know, sometimes we face things we cannot fight, and we just have to accept and submit. This is one of those times for you." He shook his head. "I don't understand ... " he mumbled. "Of course, you understand. You will become my full-time fuck boy for the next few months. When I'm through with you, you can return to your life. Speaking of your life, Chad, it will change quite a bit. You see, being trained by me will be a pretty full-time occupation. Everything from what and when you eat and drink to when you shit and piss will be controlled by me. Most of the day, you will have a dick in your mouth or up your ass. Not mine all the time, goodness, even I don't have that much sexual stamina. But I want you fucked a lot, and I want you sucking lots of dick every day, so I have a bunch of guys lined up who will help us, including my buddy Rick who owns this place. 'I've ... I've got a girlfriend. I don't want to have sex with guys," he moaned, tears filling his beautiful eyes. I was gently flicking his big nipple now. "Well, that's the thing. A girlfriend will only get in the way of your concentration, not to mention that I don't want you sticking your nice big fat dick into anyone, least of all a pussy. So, the first thing you will do when you leave the gym this morning is to call your girlfriend and break up with her." "You ... you can't make me do that!" then, as he reflected on me being so pushing, he let me have it. "AND YOU CAN FUCK OFF AND GIVE ME MY CLOTHES AND GET THE FUCK A ..." Ok, again. I bitch slapped him 10 times. My hand continuously hits one side of his face open-handed and backhands the other. Back and forth, back and forth. Spit and a little bit of blood were flung out of his mouth in both directions repeatedly. He hurt more than before. He should be fucking freaked out of his mind. And again, I grabbed his neck and squeezed it, choking him as I continued to smack him back and forth and back and forth until my hand was getting really sore. He put up his hand in a type of surrender. He was trembling. He must have thought I would kill him if he did not acquiesce to my demands. I just looked at him. So cute, so terrified, so lovely. What a find! And here I was, trying to be easy, kind, reasonable, caring, and understanding. Yes, I did know he didn't want to do what I wanted, but he needed to realize he had no choice. After a brief pause, he looked at me and probably thought he should either do as I say or try to bargain his way out of it. "Why do you have to go and yell at me like that? I'm trying to be reasonable here, Chad?" I reached down to his chest and twisted his nipple until he was crumpled up over my naked chest, sobbing with pain. He tried to use his hands to stop me, but I slapped them away with my other hand. I grabbed him by the hair again and yanked his head back and to one side. That placed his face next to me and below me. I gobbed spit wads in his face four or five times. Some spit ran into his mouth and most off his face, and he started to gag. I pushed his head down onto my thigh, his nose and mouth half an inch from my thickening prick. I held his head until he calmed down and stopped squirming. "So, where were we? Oh, you will break up with your girlfriend. Then you will go to your job and quit! I can't have you working when I am trying to train you." "Quit ... quit my job? How will I live? How will I ... "I will take care of you. Don't worry. I will provide everything you need." "But my rent ... my ... " I gently pushed his face into my thigh so he could taste my skin, my sweat, my leg hair. "Chad, you are not being very adult about this. Do you want me to smack you for the next half hour?" His eyes bugged wide. "No. But ... please ..." "Chad? Don't worry. I'll take care of your rent if we decide to keep your apartment. Let's take one step at a time, huh? So, you will break up with your girlfriend, quit your job, and then you will drop out of school." He tried to jerk his head up. He was almost hysterical. "Drop out? I need to go to school. You can't make me do that. I need school! I'm about to gradu ... " The words tumbled out. "You don't need school to be a cock sucker and an ass-fucked cunt boy. I'll teach you all of that. That's what I'm here for. They'll refund your tuition for this semester. Tell them you have family problems or are sick or something. I want you to do all of this by noon tomorrow. Understand? Then, you will go to your bank, withdraw your money, and close your account. Don't worry, I don't need your money. I am quite wealthy. But I need to control your finances and your options. Then, you will go back to your place. You will take all of your clothes, every last stitch, and put them into garbage bags. Your shoes, underwear, pants, shirts... everything. Anything you wear from now on, I will provide. Then you will kneel bare-assed naked in the middle of your living room and wait for me to arrive. I will come by sometime in the afternoon or evening. You just kneel there and wait. Kneel with your legs apart. Then, we'll begin your training. Got that?" I wish you could have seen the look on his cute young face. So helpless, so vulnerable. It was like a thousand thoughts were colliding in his head. "I really like my girlfriend." he managed at last. "That's nice. Maybe she'll wait until I'm finished with you. Although, if past experience is any teacher, by the time I am finished with you, you will be a cock hungry boy sow who lives only for dick. A cum dump human toilet who gets aroused at the most perverted sick, and disgusting things imaginable. I know that seems impossible now, but give me a chance, huh? So, tell your cunt that you will be very busy for the next few months, but you will look her up in the future. That's fine with me." We froze for a moment, there in the locker room, looking into each other's eyes, and he could tell that I was stronger than him in every way. I gave him another gentle smile and shook my head from side to side. "You are going to be such a great fuck." "What if I don't do it? What if I don't do anything you say?" "Then you will be hurt very badly. You will suffer, and you will still, in the end, do what I say. You cannot beat me, Chad. But I can beat you in every form of the word. I can make you wish you were dead and then hurt you more. And then there is your family in Zanesville and your little brother..." "What?" He was suddenly alert, blinking, mouth open, nostrils twitching. God, he was cute. "My little Brother? You'd... " "I don't even want to talk about that. It's terrible to even suggest to somebody, and I don't want an awful thing like that to get in the way of our wonderful relationship. But I really wouldn't try to cross me or disobey me, or others could also suffer. Do we understand each other? I know all about your life. I know all about your family. Now, you have a busy morning ahead of you. I want you on your knees in your living room, bare-assed, with the front door unlocked by one o'clock in the afternoon. Job, girlfriend, school, bank. Got that?" I ruffled his hair and stood up. I allowed my half-hard prick to brush against his arm as I swung my leg over the bench. He pulled back. I had to chuckle. "Don't be afraid of my dick, Chad. You and my dick are going to be best friends. More than friends, lovers. More than that. You will learn to worship my cock like it's your God! Now, how about giving it a nice little kiss." "You want me to... " "Kiss my dick. Nothing too romantic. We'll get to that tomorrow afternoon. Just give it a nice little kiss on the dickhead." "I... I don't want to go against you. I really don't, but... I don't think I can do that. I really don't think I can... " he was burbling in anguish. "Don't make me angry again, Chad. Just lean in and give my cockhead a nice kiss. Make believe you're kissing your girlfriend's lips." I decided to help the boy the first time, so I put my hand on the back of his head and brought him into my fuck meat. I felt his lips against my dick, and my pecker gave a little lurch. A drop of pre-fuck appeared at the piss lips. I released his head, and he held his lips to my prick skin for a moment and then pulled back. He looked up at me. "Chad, I felt your lips on my fucker, but you didn't give it a kiss. Now you have to do it again. Now give it a nice kiss this time." He gulped and sobbed. "I DON'T WANT TO KISS A GUY'S DICK!" he pleaded. "Of course you don't, Chad. But, as I said, I am heavily into humiliation and degradation. That's all part of our fun. I mean, this is nothing, absolutely nothing to what you will be doing in the days to come. So, might as well get started. Think of your family, Chad. What's your little bro's name, Billy, right? And Billy is twelve and goes to Morton Middle school, correct? Kiss my dick, Chad!" Chad kissed my dick. He kissed his first dick. He put his heterosexual lips to dick meat for the very first time. It was a start. We had started down a road from which he would never return. He belonged to me. "There now, that wasn't so bad, was it? A nice little kiss on my dick. Good boy, Chad. Now, you'd better get going. You have lots to do before tomorrow afternoon. I know where your apartment is and where little bro Billy lives, so, no need to give me directions, but do leave your door unlocked. You'll need your car keys and ID for the bank and school, right? Oh, and your cell phone to call your ex-girlfriend." I reached into a nearby open locker and took out his ID and car keys. He looked around helplessly. "My clothes..." he whispered, seemingly broken already, although I knew there was much more breaking to do. "Oh yeah, your clothes. Remember, I said I would provide all your clothes from now on. So, here's what I want you to wear now and tomorrow when you quit your job, drop out of school, and go to the bank." I opened another locker and threw down to him a pair of flip-flops, a pair of tiny pink satin shorts, and a pink T-shirt that was cut off just below the nipples and also had the arms cut off. In white letters on the back of the T-shirt were the words, "I SUCK!" Chad was in shock and horror when he saw his new clothing. "You expect me to go out in public... wearing that?" he almost wailed, still frozen and staring at the clothing. "Yes, I expect you to wear whatever I tell you to wear whenever I tell you to. I expect you to do whatever I tell you to do. Now get dressed and get going, Chad. I do not like to repeat myself. I would love to fuck you here and now. Your ass looks so sweet, but I want to do this right and take one thing at a time. I must admit, I can't wait to finger your moist tight asshole, but we'll get to that tomorrow afternoon. Oh, for shit's sake, stop crying. Don't be such a baby. You can do this. You will do this. And we are going to have a great time!" With the greatest amount of emotional pain, Chad slowly, agonizingly, put on the few items I gave him. He was so cute, the way he trembled as he stumbled out of the locker room. My dick went to full mast! There was saliva dripping from the corners of my mouth. God, I love this! I was so anxious. As I mentioned earlier, I had been in a dry spell for some time. It was not because I was not trying to find and corner a new boy but because I had not seen anyone I was interested in for months. I told you I was picky. And now, finally, there was Chad. I arrived at Chad's apartment at four o'clock in the afternoon, hoping he had been kneeling bare-assed in the living room since one. And the door was to be unlocked. The door was, indeed, unlocked, as I requested. That's a great sign! Sure enough, there my boy pussy was, looking apprehensively at the door as he heard it open. He was naked, on his knees. Not surprisingly, he was not looking up at me. He had his hands behind his head in a most submissive gesture. I did not tell him to do that, but at this point, he must be very concerned about "playing the game" my way ... for now. After all, I did threaten to harm his family. He was trying to signal that he was complying fully. But, of course, I am nowhere close to breaking his spirit. I knew he was planning a short-term appeasement as he plotted a way to escape my grasp. Even my requirements of no girlfriend, no job, no school, and no money ... if he did, in fact, now compiled, could all be reversed soon after his escape. Or so he thought. "Good afternoon, ASS WIPE," I said, strolling into the room. "We need to talk, Sir. There must be some way out of this. With all due respect ..." He started to babble. Obviously, he had been rehearsing all afternoon. He still thought there might be a way to talk himself out of his situation. "With all due respect, Chad, why not show some respect and kiss and lick my shoes?" The look on his face was priceless. It was as if I were speaking some foreign language. He looked at my eyes, down at my shoes, and into my face again. "What did I say about having to repeat an order, Chad? Consider everything I say an order." "Can't we, please ... please ... can't we talk about ... my brother Billy, I don't want ... I mean ... it's not fair ... " I slapped him hard. "Life's not fair, Chad. Now I want you kissing and licking my shoes in four seconds." Each time, it took less physical force to get him to comply. That was good. A very good sign. He lowered his head, stuck out his cute teenage tongue, and swiped it over my shoe tops. He made a face and coughed a few times, but my shoes were pretty clean, so he didn't really have a problem. "I said kiss and lick." he began to alternate the tongue bath with little kisses. It was adorable. I waited to see if he would also lick and kiss around the back. He did. "Good boy." At last, he felt he was finished. He knelt up, looking into my face. "Two mistakes, Chad. First, your eyes are to be on my dick at all times, not on my face. My face is for my boyfriends and girlfriends, not for my fuck hole cunt. You just focus on my dick lump. The second mistake is that I say when you are finished kissing and licking my SHOES, not SHOE. Besides, you forgot to lick and kiss the soles of the shoes." "But ... but the bottoms are ... filthy." My, such a clean little twerp. "Exactly, bright boy. The soles are filthy, so they need to be licked clean. Get to work!" I didn't help by bending or twisting my foot. He had to lie on his back, and I rested the bottom of my shoe on his face. I stood there patiently as he licked the bottoms of my shoes. He gagged more than a few times. "You are going to have to learn to control that gag reflex. If the bottom of my shoes makes you gag, think what my big fat dirty dick down your throat will do." He moaned. It was an honest moan of despair coming from his heart, and I couldn't fault him for it. He was doomed, and he knew it. He just wasn't strong enough or man enough to fight me. Most guys aren't. I'm blessed that way. It's my gift. I can control others. When I was satisfied, I sat down on the couch. "Do you have any beer in the house?" "Yeah ... " he said rather encouragingly. Perhaps he thought this meant we would have an intelligent conversation. We would, but it would be mostly one way. "Good. Crawl into the kitchen, fetch me a beer, and crawl back again." He frowned. It was the word "crawl" that weirded him out. A simple word. A simple meaning. At last, he got it, turned, and started to leave the room on all fours. "Stop! You need to learn how to crawl. Keep your back arched. Your ass and head should be the highest points on your body. Get that ass up high. That cute smooth ass is what I am mostly here for. Keep your head up, too, so your back arches nicely. Open your mouth and let your shoe-cleaning tongue hang out like a dog's. When you crawl, spread your legs more so I can see your balls swing. And make sure they swing when you crawl. It's more difficult to crawl with your legs spread, but it's much more attractive." It's not easy to crawl with your legs apart. It throws off the movement. But if you do it right and have a low-hanging scrotum, you can get a nice swing out of it. The young fuck was crying again and muttering "please, please" repeatedly. But he crawled out and returned with a can of beer a minute later. "You stupid cunt. If you crawl with the beer in your hand sideways like that, I'll spray beer all over when I open the can. Now crawl back, fetch a different beer, and hang the beer from your mouth by the plastic six-pack carrier. If you no longer have that, tie a string around the can and hang it from your mouth." He practically wailed in desperation, but he turned around and crawled back and, a few minutes later, came back with the beer can held by his mouth by a string. "You took far too long. I know this is your first day, but you have to do better than that. Now I will have to beat your ass with my belt. Stay right there down on the floor and lift your ass up. I'm going to give you five hard swats." You see the work training a new boy can be? It's not as easy as it seems and all fun and games. I slapped that belt down on his fine young ass while he screamed in pain and sobbed. He really couldn't take much. What a fucking wuss. "Keep your ass up and the noise down. You want all the neighbors to know what a faggot sissy boy you really are?" He hadn't even thought of the neighbors. He kept saying he was sorry and would do better. Damn right, he would. When his ass had been whipped five times, I sat on the couch, sipped my beer, and instructed him to kneel on the floor before me. "Legs apart, so your clit is always on display. Now, answer my questions honestly. Did you break up with your girlfriend?" He chewed his lower lip. "I ... I told her I couldn't see her for a while." "Well, that's okay. That's fine. As long as she understands that. You will not want to see her anyway, not with a stretched asshole and your face swollen from sucking so much dick. I mean, how can you date her when you stink of piss?" "You're not going to do that, are you?" He said, and then his eyes filled with tears. "Didn't I tell you I was into heavy humiliation and degradation? Of course, I'm going to do that. That's nothing compared to what I am going to do. So, I think it's best for you and her if you give the bitch a wide berth for some time. Personally, I don't think she will want you once she sees what you've become." "She loves me. She'll wait for me. We're gonna be marr ... " Just then, the door opened, and my buddy sauntered in, dropping a gym bag. He's the gym manager, built like a brick shithouse. "This is my buddy, Rick. He's going to work on your computer for a while. He will lift the names and email addresses of all your friends and shit like that. What's your username and password?" To be continued... What the fuck is this muscle-bound hunk goingto do with Chad's personal information? I mean, how far is this goingto go? Chad talked about getting married. He is definitely straight, so that's not goingto change, is it?
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/bodybuilder-trains-a-new-pussie-boy/bodybuilder-trains-a-new-pussie-boy-6	Date: Tue, 26 Mar 2024 14:20:35 -0700 From: gayD Subject: Bodybuilder Trains a New Pussie Boy- Chapter 6 I'm so sorry, my committed readers. I told you this would be a 6-chapter story, but... it got out of hand. It's not my fault! That damn stubborn muscle-hunk Brock is so fucking nasty and demanding. He doesn't know when to stop re-forming cute, formally straight, high school jock, Chad. God! He was so sweet and innocent. With the perfect trim body, and boy, did he love the girls. Yes, I said "did," past tense. Or, perhaps... Brock knows more than I. Could it be that Brock and his friends truly psyched-out the real inner Chad? And his needs? Bodybuilder Trains a New Pussie Boy Part 6 of 7 We both collapsed on the floor in our great, sweaty organism. We were silent. I needed to respond in a way that indicated that I was Boss, top dog, and he was my faggot pussie slave bitch. I wanted to say something besides, "Wow, that was great." But I could not give up my power. Then he said the darnedest thing, "Thank you, Master." I was at a loss for words. I couldn't thank HIM or tell HIM how overly pleased I was. For now, "You're welcome, my pussie boy." I gestured him to the locker room. "Let's go shower and get to your new place." Chad pointed to his collar. I guess he wondered if it could get wet. "Well, it's not coming off, so yes, you can get it wet." It looked like leather, but it was an all-weather leather-like material. We showered together, but I made him wash my body and dry me off. I got dressed as he dried himself with my used towel. I thought about what just happened. I was so freaked out knowing that I must have begged HIM to let me climax. Wow. Did he hear that? God, I hope not. I figured he was so focused on pleasing me that he did not hear anything I said. That could really fuck up our new relationship. It could mess up his need to be the slut pussie whore and me the absolute top. Period. I went out to talk to and visit with Rick as Chad finished cleaning up. It was about 3:10. We were all exhausted. Chad crawled onto the main gym floor toward me, in the manner I taught him, with his ass upturned and his knees apart so anyone could see his balls swinging. Of course, he was totally naked, wearing only his leather collar. He knelt and kept his eyes on my jean-cover crotch as previously ordered. Those were all good signs. He still knew his place. So, I just came out and told him, "You did good tonight. You did me proud. But you need to always know your place as a pussie whore, cum-dump, and be proud of that status." "Yes, Sir." "I'll see you, Rick. Thanks for hosting a very good and intense training session." "Brock, I don't like to admit it, but this may be your best pussie boy yet." Rick said, smiling. "Chad, follow me to my car." He started to follow me out the door on his hands and knees. "No, inside you crawl, outside you walk ... or we will never get anywhere." I smiled. So, he crawled to the front door, and when I exited, he did also, then stood up and walked at my side. I wondered if he would hesitate about being out in public naked and in that beautiful, black leather studded collar. After all, cars were still driving by, even at this early hour. I could tell he was nervous, but he did as told without question. That surprised me. I also wondered if he remembered I was parked in the back parking lot. When we arrived and entered the gym through the back. But again, he did not question me at all. I liked that. Of course, I intentionally left through the front door because I wanted him naked on the street, wearing only my collar. Chad was uncomfortable, but he stayed at my side as I walked down the block, about 600 feet, to the corner. There, I stopped and pretended to read the early morning newspaper on the news rack under the bright streetlights. I was watching him with a side glance. He was fidgeting and looking in all directions. I pretended I did not notice his anxiety, but I liked that he had some, maybe a lot. "Looks like we will have clear weather all week," I told him, meaning nothing at all. After a good five minutes there, and a few drivers honking their horns or hooting, or the one car full of teens when they yelled out, "Hey fag, need a good fuck!" Then I casually strolled down that street to the alley, then down the alley to the back parking lot behind the gym. I know it was painfully slow for Chad, who, I'm sure, just wanted to get his naked body out of public sight. As we approached my car, some people were in the parking lot. There is a bar across the street, so maybe they are the staff who had just closed up. Chad went to the passenger side and put his hand on the door handle, ready to hop inside the moment I unlocked it. Without opening his passenger side, I got in, started the engine, and turned on all my lights on high beam. Still, instead of unlocking his door, I push the bottom to roll down that window. Chad stuck his head inside but did not ask me to open his door. That was good. That's what I wanted. "Chad, I think I do want a copy of that mourning newspaper. I fished around in the ashtray change and came up with two quarters. "Here you go, go get me that paper, and don't run." This time, he gave me a scrunched-up look of puzzlement. As if he was asking, "Sir? Do you really want me to go back there by myself? All naked?" But he did not say anything. That was good. "Oh, when you come back, and before you get into the car, make sure you have a boner for me. You know, it's like a `thank you' for taking such good care of you tonight." He was really nervous. To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure he would leave the safety of the parking lot. But I did get a very shaky "yes, Sir." "Chad, I know you think this is humiliating and embarrassing being out naked in public. And you probably hate it. But look on the bright side, I FUCKING LOVE IT! Isn't that great?" Chad absentmindedly nodded, "Yes, Sir." "See how many ways your life can be twisted to please me? You can be really proud of letting go of all that nonsense about modesty, the need for school or a girlfriend, and all that crap about a job. Now ... you have me. Isn't that just wonderful?" "Yes, Sir," he said with a bit more confidence. Then quickly, Chad "walked" all the way to the corner news rack. Got the paper and then fast-walked back here to stand so beautifully naked at the passenger door. I let the "fast walk" go. He was being too well-behaved to punish him. He handed me the paper through the open window and then quickly began to pump his dick. He has some exciting energy in his body because he was semi-erect when we left the gym, and when we stood at the corner, I saw his dick growing firmer. Not erect, but nicely filled out. Super. That's a good sign. Pussie fags like him need to have someone to tell him what to do and push him more than he feels he can take. I am the only one who can give him that true-lived experience. He was at the passenger door, playing with his dick, maybe having a little trouble getting it to full erection. I tooted the horn to get his attention, making him look up at me quickly. I just pointed to the front of the car, and he knew what I wanted. He went to stand in my headlights and beat his nice plump dick, just for me. The headlight did it; it added just enough humiliation for him to become fully erect. "Yes," I said to myself, this boy needs me. And he needs me to push him." I was pleased. I waved him over to the driver's side to check out his dick. I placed my hand on it and fingered it along the shaft. I swear, he would come any minute if I continued to touch him. Now, that's a wonderful sign. Still, with his terrified look, he did not ask me to let him in. Something had clicked in his mind. To be honest, I don't know when that happened. But he was making me very happy. "Hold your dick up. Let me see your balls." He did, and I fondled his hang balls. He moaned. "OK, Chad, go around to the other door and come inside." He gladly did. And as he ran to the passenger door, his big boner bounced up and down. But when he went to open the door, it was still locked. He looked at me, "Sir?" He pleaded as he stood all naked, cute, and vulnerable in the parking lot lights. "No, Chad, you may never take the easy way out. You ran around the back of the car to avoid the headlights. Now, come back -- around the front of the car to my window." "Yes, Sir." And around the front, he came. I was so fucking excited. Man-oh-man, did I luck out with this one! "Chad, do you think you can subvert my wishes? Do you think you can try to trick me? Cheat on your training? Fight me at these little things?" I wanted him to remain outside the car and know there was a real possibility that he would not come into my car if he misbehaved. He needed a scare. He will always need a scare, but that's my job, and I am good at it. "You'd better explain yourself now, or maybe you're not the good pussie cunt boy material I first thought you were." Bingo, he started to cry. Well, it had been a very long day and night. So much had happened, and most of it was excellent stuff. He is so exhausted. I know he is so totally worn out that he can't think straight. This is just the time to push him. His resistance faded. "Look, faggot pussie cunt. You better explain yourself to me and what you just did, sneaking around the back of my car." I spoke as if agitated. "Please forgive me, Sir. I know I need to learn a lot. I know I fucked up, but please don't dismiss me. Sir, you are so right. I fucking did go around the rear end to be safer. To cheat. And that was just like disobedience to you. I can try better and harder." Then he cried more, probably thinking I was on the verge of kicking him out of my life. That's good. I also noticed he was not concerned about me keeping him naked in public. What was much more important to him was that I was displeased with his behavior. That's a great sign of progress. "And your punishment?" I thought I would toss that out just to see what he would offer. To see where his mind was at. And to signal punishment is often dished out for poor behavior. Subs need these fixes when they do wrong things. "I have no suggestion, opinion, or concern." That was as great a surrender as a Dom can get. I clicked the door unlocked and waved him in. He opened the door and sat inside. I'm sure he was relieved. This was an important exercise. It accomplished some essential elements of slave training. First, he could trust that I would protect him if he obeyed and did as I said. Second, he feels good when he is pushed to expose himself. Third, he needs me. As much as I enjoy him, he truly needs me to train him. Still, he has not yet complied with all my commands ... without question or hesitation. He's getting there, but he is not there yet. That's a big deal. But now, with his scary, imagined threat that I may dump him, the time is right to push further. As I said, he is extremely exhausted ... perfect timing. Chad was looking at my crotch, as was the basic rule when idle. Then I started talking to myself so he could hear me. "Yeah, it sure has been a long and tiring day. I want to sit here and relax. Take a breather. Yes, it feels good to do nothing for a while. The only thing better would be to have my shoes licked all over as I sit in the car and ... " I didn't even finish expressing myself, and the next thing I realized, he was naked, in the foot weld, stuffed in that small space, with his head projected to my side, moving his tongue around to lick my tennis shoes. I expressed pleasure, and Chad did not hesitate to give it to me without my specifically asking, which is fine in this case. It was awkward in the small space for him to tilt my foot sideways to lick the bottom of the sole and continue. He said nothing and seemed content, or ... maybe actually happy. But I wanted to talk to him. "OK, stop now and just stay in your little foot weld there and listen." He looked so cute, hunched in a ball on the floor. "You may have thought that I forgot you have not eaten today. Well, I mean, besides all the wonderful cum." Chad involuntarily licked his lips at the word `cum.' "Yeah, I know you have not eaten. And I am hungry also. Look, it's almost day light, and some 24-hour cafes are serving delicious breakfasts. Would you like a good, fat, juicy hamburger with lots of fries?" He nodded eagerly. "Yeah, or I can get you a fabulous breakfast with eggs, bacon, hash browns ... wow! Wouldn't that be great! But ... you tell me what food you crave the most right now. Speak up. I want to know what would please you most." Chad, very hesitant to offer any suggestions of what he truly craved, said, "Well, Sir, I really, really would love a nice tender steak and eggs breakfast." "OH? And how do you want the steak cooked?" Chad's face lit up like that of a little kid in a candy store. "Oh, cooked medium, please." "And, anything else on the side?" "Oh, yes, please, hash browns, cooked a real crispy." He was so excited. He was so fucking cute. My personal little faggot whore, expressing the most wonderful breakfast even I could imagine. We were both famished. I noticed a trash truck down this way. I was parked in the back parking lot of the gym, which was located in a rather large strip mall. And the two guys at their truck were emptying the trash cans at the other end and slowly working their way toward us. Rick had put out 4 trash cans that they would eventually get to. "And what kind of toast?" "Oh, yes, Sir. I love that whole wheat bread with all the healthy seeds and grainy bits. YES, THAT WOULD BE GREAT!" Chad even started to drool a little as he got more and more excited. I'm sure he could taste every bit of what he was describing. His hands and feet were fidgeting with anticipation. He probably guessed that he had pleased me so much that I would finally reward him with a super fantastic meal. "You know, Chad, I think what you just described is probably the best breakfast I can think of. Maybe we really do think alike. Thank you, Chad, for being so helpful. I was not sure what I wanted to eat just now, but your suggestion is perfect." I could tell he enjoyed pleasing me. "OK, I will head to an all-night cafe and order everything you mentioned. The steak, cooked medium, the eggs with hash browns, extra crispy, and even the whole wheat toast. You have pleased me so much today, and especially just now." I reached down to his head and ruffled his hair like one would do to a little boy or big dog. Looking at his backside, I saw his hands move up to his eyes. He was joyfully crying now. He was so fucking happy. As I put the car in gear and was about to drive off, I looked at him, "Breakfast is going to be great. But before I leave, I want you to get out and go to where those four trash cans are behind the gym. Play with yourself and get and keep a big, super-hard dick. Don't cum, but do enjoy your dick. Think wonderful thoughts about me being so pleased and enjoying your favorite breakfast." Chad's face caved in. He was at a loss for words, stymied. But he did not complain, or at least he didn't express his obvious monumental disappointment verbally. He slowly extricated himself from the tight floor space. At the same time, he was trying to hold back tears of disappointment and pain. He said nothing as he continued his slow naked movement to the seat and then placed his hand on the door handle to open it. Chad was likely moving slowly in his hopeful anticipation that I would stop him and tell him it was all a big joke and that, of course, he was coming with me to breakfast. I just stared at him with a big smile as he crept the door open and moved his naked body, once again, in the full bright lights of the parking lot. He asked for no clarification. He did not plead or beg me not to do this. And he slowly began to walk away from the car with his head down. I waited for him to get 20 feet away and then yelled out loudly, "When the trash men approach those trash cans, offer to suck their big dicks." He turned his head around, looked at me, and nodded to acknowledge my order. Then waved goodbye. You may think I voiced some safety assurances, such as, "Don't worry; I'll be back in an hour and bring you some food." Or "I'll be back in two hours." Or "I'll be back." No, I wanted his obedience without regard to making any kind of a deal with him. Legally speaking, a binding deal can only be made between two responsible adults, not between an adult and a minor, an adult and a big puppy, or an adult with a subservient mouth hole. No, no deal. No conditions. I drove away, tooting my horn to make a lot of noise in case anyone was around to look in this direction. However, instead of going for breakfast, I circled around the block and parked out of sight. After retrieving my binoculars from my glove compartment, I sneaked into a nearby bushy area and watched him from there. I saw the trash men come to those cans, and I saw the two guys physically surprised by the collared, naked teen beating his dick. The trashmen went about their job, picking up one trash can after the other and dumping their contents into the truck's lift bin. I could see some exchange of conversation. The trashmen were done, and I expected them to drive off to the next business. Then I was surprised. Chad was not trying to hide behind the cans; he was actually out in full view of them with a raging boner for whoever could see him. I think he really learned not to hide his body. And he did this without any awareness that I was watching. I saw non-stop action of him playing with his dick. They were actually talking back and forth. Well, not all three. One of the trash guys obviously wanted nothing to do with Chad and stood way back on the other side of the truck. Then, I saw Chad kneel under the brightest light near the gym's back door. He continued to pump his dick. The trash guy talking to him stepped back to place himself in the shadow, and then I saw him lower his pants. Chad had to "walk" on his knees to where the worker was, and he leaned his face forward. I could not see all the details clearly because one guy wanted to stay in the shadows but placed his hand behind Chad's head. That wonderful, naked, kneeling boy was moving his head back and forth in a sucking motion. My wonderful, naked, kneeling pussie boy! The worker was slamming to hips forward and fucking my faggot mouth hole. It didn't take long, plus I'm sure the trash guys had to quickly get back to their business. The one guy fixed his clothes, and both men hopped into their truck and rode off to the next waiting cans. Chad remained on his knees for a short while and then moved back behind the empty trash cans to wait. But to wait for what? As an experienced dominator, I still can't read the mind of any boy that I am training. Was he thinking I abandoned him? I gave him no assures I was coming back. Was he overly meditating about his wonderful breakfast, which seemingly he was getting none of? Did he realize I was never coming back? Was he planning what he would do next in life, maybe see about dating a girl? Or is he getting his job back? Or getting any job? Was he missing me? I let him be there, all alone, for another hour. We initially got back to my car just after 4 AM, and it was now near 5. I knew some business might open soon, so I got in my car and drove as silently as I could, coasting the last 100 feet to the trash cans. He must have been in deep thought or, maybe, sleeping. I got out, quietly shut my door, and soft-walked to where I could see him sitting on the pavement behind the trash cans. He was turned away from me, rubbing his face as he sat there. I stepped behind the cans and greeted him with a hand on his bare shoulder. He was so startled and jerked his head around to see me. He immediately grabbed my legs with his arms, encircling them in a tight bear hug. He cried so hard and loud, continuously, squeezing me so tight, like he never wanted to let go. He cried and rocked his body back and forth, so happy to see me. I was telling him it was OK, to calm down. But he was not hearing me. He continuously mumbled between his sobs, "Thank you, Sir. Oh, thank you. You are so fucking great. Oh god! Thank you so much!" I tapped him on the shoulder and gestured for him to raise, but Chad would not let go and not stop thanking me. I was pleased beyond belief. I lovingly petted the hair on his head. I knew he was not thanking me for simply returning. That was not it. He was not thanking me for not punishing him. No. He was thanking me for keeping him. He was thanking me because I still wanted him as my sub-faggot, slutty-whore pussie boy. You see, I was now his world. I had been thinking a lot, or should I say, rethinking, since our Gym session ended. I hesitate to utter out loud that I am very impressed with Chad. "Pussie boy, up now," I spoke softly. "To the car. "I gestured for him to get in, and he did. He immediately squished himself into the foot weld, placed his face on my tennis shoe, and began licking it. "OK, Chad, time to go home. I can't drive with you down there," I told him with a big smile. "It's kind of cool, and my car heater is not working, so undo my pants, nudge them down a little, and my jock down, and warm up my balls. Breathe on them as I drive. That should warm me up." Chad did just that. But he first had to lift my dick and balls, which were wedged between my thighs, to rest in the open on top of my thighs. Then, with one hand, he held my floppy dick out of the way, so he could place his head sideways on my bare lap with his open mouth against my hairy balls. Then he got into a slow rhythm, exhausting his hot breath on my balls. Ah, so nice. As I drove him to my place, which was the plan, he never stopped his breath heater. That was fine. He needed to be used, even if only for body heat. We bonded extraordinarily. Having said that, I know he is in a heightened state of anxiety. He is naked, without anything. He was not just void of clothes; he now had no job, nowhere else to live, and no family or friends to whom he could turn. He only had ... me. Chad was hungry, starving, actually. And he was extremely exhausted, 100% spent. I engineered all of this. And I know that tomorrow, or whenever Chad regains a mental space from where he can think clearly, his allegiance to me will be considerably less. More training will be needed. It is always required. I parked. I escorted Chad, collared and fully naked, up the steps to the porch of my modest house. I unlocked the door and let him in. "First, go to the back where my bedroom is," I pointed, "into that bathroom room and kneel. He didn't speak; he just nodded, a guess as a thank you, and went to do as asked. I soon followed and stood before his kneeling form. "I need to shower," I just looked at him and waited. He began to undress me as if he intuitively understood. When I was naked, I entered the shower and stood there again. And, something clicked. He entered, turned the water on, and began to soap me up. He moved my arms and legs to get every area, including my dick and balls. Then he raised me off, and I stepped out when he finished for him to towel me dry, then kneeled. I turned my back to him and bent over with my ass in his face. Without hesitation, he placed both hands on my ass cheeks, spread them wide apart, and hungrily worked his tongue into my hole. He was moaning and enjoying his job. After about five minutes, I pulled away, or ... tried to, but he gently held onto me and continued, so I let him. The moaning sounds he made and the stiff boner he displayed pleased me, but this was not the time to clarify our relationship. It was a time for rest, complete rest. I lay on the bed, on top of the covers, and wiggled my finger for him to join me. I did not direct him as to how he would lay there or what he was to do or not do. I just closed my eyes and went into a deep sleep. It must have been near 2:00 PM when I woke and found Chad still asleep with his body squeezed between my outstretched legs and his mouth on my dick. Chad was softly snoring. I lay there for quite a while. Thinking. I untangled myself from him slowly and climbed gently out of bed. I had made a decision. But this particular decision needed Chad's approval. When he woke up, I told him something he did not expect. It must have been very confusing to him. I remembered that cute saying, "If you love something, set it free. If it comes back, it's yours. If it does not, it never was." "Chad, I want you for my permanent slave slut pussie boy. However, you get to choose to stay or to leave. And this time, there is no Taser, no coercion, no force, and no threats of harm to you or anyone. No blackmail. On that chair are some clothes I am lending you, jeans, a T-shirt, socks and tennis shoes. In that envelope is $5,000 in cash. And here is your wallet and your ID. Sorry, the collar cannot be unlocked, but a locksmith might be able to remove it." When I initially found Chad, I told him (and every new trainee I picked) that I'd be training him for a few months. In truth, training is such a long and complex endeavor that to get my "money's worth," I might keep some for a year or two. Then, if he chose, he could leave and return to his previous life. That is, what he could patch together again. But Chad was different. Oh fuck, was he different? "Now, Chad, you will leave," I spoke calmly. He reached out to hug me, but I gently and firmly pushed him back. "You have until midnight tonight to return here if you wish. And if you do, all your social, economic, physical, financial, and even medical decisions will be made by me. You will become my property unconditionally. There will be legally binding agreements you will sign later when you turn 18, codifying your purpose and function as my property, though the word "property" can't be legally used. There will be no going back, so choose wisely. Do you have any questions?" He started to speak but realized there was nothing to ask. I'm sure he has lots of mixed feelings and emotions. I did, ever since I first met him. But as I said, I made up my mind. He got dressed, took the few items, and left. You might think I felt strongly about whether he'd return. I really did not have a sense of it. I was saddened to see him leave, but this was necessary. I went about my business, doing errands, laundry, and such, making no plans for his return even though his return would create a totally changed lifestyle for both of us. I looked at the clock. Midnight was a long way off; it was only 7:10 PM. I went out the door to get something out of my car, and I almost stumbled and fell over the naked form on my porch. There was Chad, naked and collared. Kneeling and looking up at me. I wondered where his clothes were, but that was unimportant. His wallet with ID and so on was not anywhere around, either. He held the envelope with the $5,000 cash in his hand. No, I did not embrace him, jump up and down joyfully, or call him my "friend." I said very calmly, "Boy, good to see you. Come in." He crawled into my living room. "We have many rules to go over and learn, but there will be lots of time. All my desires for what you will do, how you will behave, and what you will fully become will be told to you over time. But, for now, you may ask for clarification about anything you do not understand. That's fine for now. Training is an ongoing process. Often, I will not answer your questions; some things are just not for you to know or contemplate. It's not your job to know why; just do it. Next week, I'll have a carpenter here constructing special quarters for you. For now, you'll sleep on the floor by my bed. You will be my alarm clock. Every morning you will slowly wake me with your mouth sucking gently on my dick. "Did you eat when you were out? Have lunch?" "No, Sir. I didn't think that was right." "Chad, that's just great. And the good news is - and this will really please you, it'll just blow your mind - I had a wonderful steak and eggs lunch, the same one you described as the best breakfast. I really enjoyed myself." Chad smiled at my `good news.' "You see how your new goal in life is making sure I am pleased? That's the thing. I love seeing you feel embarrassed, humiliated, uncomfortable, and degraded, especially publicly. And more good news, I will train you to perform the most degenerate, indecent, sluttiest, emotionally painful, and physically challenging acts you never ever considered. And I will enjoy your torment immensely! How does that make you feel?" Chad started to cry and said, "Sir, I only hope I can live up to your expectations. Please help me get there, Sir." "Of course. And you have no recourse, no one to help you except me. No place to go except here. Isn't that wonderful, Chad? You don't have to worry about anything. Hell, I'll have your mouth hole and asshole fucked to oblivion, not just by me, but by whoever I allow to use your holes. In the meantime, usually, your cock-sucking brain will focus only on me." Chad was so exhausted. Who knows what real thoughts he was thinking. He was tearing up as he realized he needed to be used. I didn't tell Chad this, but I would give him another 48 hours to reconsider. "Oh, my little pussie boy, thank you for those tears. Thank you so much for all your struggles, pain, resistance, and surrender. But soon, you won't be thinking about what's right and wrong, or good and bad ... you'll just be thinking about what your Master wants." "OK, more later. For now, stand up, get in the kitchen, and prepare me something for dinner. Keep it simple." He made me a very tasty sandwich. Yes, I do remember he never ate for a very long time. When I was finished, I took two mixing bowls out of the cabinet, filled one with water, and placed it on the floor in the corner. "Drink." He did; he was really thirsty. Now, I had no dog food on hand. This whole new situation would take a few weeks to fully set up the basics. I had a can of spaghetti, but I wanted him to have more protein. So, I grabbed a tin of sardines and smashed them into it. It did look awful and probably tasted grouse. I placed it on the floor but gave no command. He did not charge for it. In fact, he didn't make any move at all. I was getting more impressed. I stood over his food bowl and took my dick out to pee on it, but I was empty. "I just emptied in the toilet. "Sorry, boy, help me out." He had no clue what I wanted. "No problem." I explained. "Go ahead and lift one leg, like a dog and piss on your food to give it some flavor." He just did it. No hesitation. He lifted a leg and peed, flooding the floor as well as getting some in the bowl. "No worries, it takes time. You'll learn. But before you eat, lick up all the piss that missed the bowl, and then chow down." I felt that I didn't need to watch him obey me. I was beginning to trust him, but watching was fun. It was time to kick it up a notch. I like to put a boy through the wringer early on. I had to really test him forcefully in public, with strangers all participating. I must strip away even the tiniest bit of pride, modesty, personhood, self-respect, or desire to make decisions or to control himself. Fortunately, a special event would occur in a few days, on Friday. It is the grand opening of.... To be continued... WHAT THE FUCK?! Now, there's another chapter? All because Brock must find a way to degrade and humiliate Chad to the extreme. I suppose there will be no limits at this time. Is this going to be something the entire community gets involved in? I wonder what Broch has in mind "to remove every bit of Chad's personhood." I'm guessing this will be BOLD and DARING to the extreme! Stand by for the last chapter, Chapter 7. I want to thank Nifty.org and GayTies.com for posting my stories. I enjoy your comments. Send more to me, Bruce Darkforce, at [email protected].
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/bodybuilder-trains-a-new-pussie-boy/bodybuilder-trains-a-new-pussie-boy-7	Date: Sat, 30 Mar 2024 06:21:47 -0700 From: gayD Subject: Bodybuilder Trains a New Pussie Boy- Chapter 7 SORRY, SORRY, SORRY! I am so late in submitting this last chapter. It was difficult to write. I hope you'll find the wait worth it. Do let me know. Bodybuilder Trains a New Pussie Boy Part 7 of 7 It was time to kick it up a notch. I like to put a boy through the wringer early on to know if he's worth my continued efforts. I need to test him forcefully in public, with strangers all participating. I must strip away even the tiniest bit of pride, modesty, personhood, self-respect, or desire to make decisions or to control himself. Fortunately, a special event would occur in a few days, on Friday. It is the grand opening of a new gay bar in my neighborhood. They'd been hyping it for weeks. Playing it up so that it'll be a rough and wild S and M hangout. The flyer said, "Masters and slaves welcome. Dress to impress." The bar was called "The Pendulum." What a fagot, sissy name! Why not call it "The Hell Hole" or "The Pussie Stretcher." Anyway, that day arrived. And I am bringing Chad. I knew that part of town. The parking is a bitch. We'd have to park a couple blocks away and walk so Chad can't be naked. "Boy, go put on one article of clothing." He chose jeans. "Nah, that's not appropriate. I went to my closet and brought out a type of muscle shirt. One that had a scoop neck and exposed shoulder. Since I am tall, muscular, and broad-shouldered, and he's a toned 5' 7," it will be way too big for him. PERFECT! "Here, put this on." He did. "Now, take off your pants." With a puzzled look, he followed orders. My oversized muscle tee covered him down to just below his hips. His relaxed dick was hanging out the bottom of the shirt, showing four inches. What a fantastic sight! Chad was totally naked, except for his collar and the oversized T-shirt. "But my dick, Sir?" "Yes, your dick must not be showing in public." I caressed it and teased it. An, BINGO! It was hard and sticking straight out level to the floor. Now, it created an obscene tent under the tee. Actually, the tee "draped" over the jutting-out pole. But his dick doesn't show. We arrived, and I parked. I ushered Chad out of the car, and we walked side-by- as people gawked and stared as I led him in a slow sauntered walk to the entrance of The Pendulum. What a nice crowd. Most were dressed in jeans and boots, many in full leather, and some of the subs were nearly nude, except a jock or whatever. Then I saw it, the pendulum, in the middle of the room. It was a mannequin or, rather, a dummy hanging by heaver ropes. The dummy, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, had its wrists and ankles secured to rope ends hanging from the ceiling. The dummy was faced up, so its body formed a "U" shape. An additional heavy rope was under its belly, so it did not sag much. Kind of stupid. Guys would walk by and push it to swing back and forth. They called it "motion art." Still stupid. I had Chad kneel in the corner while I walked around and met and talked to several guys, including Colton, the manager, and Blake, the bartender. Then went back to Chad. "Boy, go get me a beer while I find a table." Of course, I had set up a challenge for my pussie boy. I added, "And don't come back here without it." Chad maneuvered his way through the crowd, with guys pinching and rubbing his all over. When he reached the bar, he said, "May I have a beer, please?" A handsome, trim-bearded man of 30 spoke loudly, "Sure, boy." The bartender grabbed a large mug and filled it with beer. "Here you go, boy." As Chad took it, "That'll be $5." "Oh, but... but... I don't have any..." "No money? Boy?" What do you expect, to suck my dick as payment?" This was the Blake I spoke with earlier. There was a microphone on him. People started to quiet down and listen in. It wasn't loud. I doubt that Chad was even aware of it. "But... ah... I... I can ..." "Oh, so you want to suck my dick as payment for the beer. Is that what you said?" "I... if you want. I can come around there, and behind the bar, kneel and..." "Wait, let me come around to you." Now, the room was silent. The sexy man stood in front of Chad, "Well?" Then Chad began to kneel. "No, not here." He led Chad to the middle of the room, in front of the strung-up pendulum dummy. "Now, this is better. You may kneel, and you'd better do a perfect job." For the first time, Chad noticed the lapel mic clipped to the bartender's leather vest. This was some kind of setup. Everyone was watching and listening. Chad began to unbuckle and unzip the man's jeans. "Hold on, what's your name, boy?" "Ah... Chad, Sir." "No, what's your real name." "Ah... ah... pussie boy. Sir" "And did your Master teach you how to suck dick? I mean, in his special way?" "Ah... yes, Sir. Master Brock taught me to start at the balls, and then..." "Stop explaining and just do it. Do it like I am your Master. Like your Master is watching you right now." Now, my boy was nervous. He knew I was watching him. Chad lowered Blake's pants to mid-thighs, no underwear, and his big stiff dick "BOINGED" out rigidly. Chad cupped his balls and brought them forward. Holding them carefully, he began to kiss and lick them. The crowd mumbled and moaned in pleasure. The bartender had his head back and his eyes rolling. He couldn't allow the boy to do his complete job since he had to get back to the bar. In fact, Chad never got to suck that gorgeous big, stiff dick. "Sorry, pussie boy, I don't have time now." Then he bent over, grabbed the bottom of Chad's oversized T-shirt, and l pulled it up and off Chad. The room erupted with applause. "I'll keep this as payment for the beer. You can get your beer to your Master Brock," Blake snapped as he pulled up his pants and bent his dick to stuff it back inside. Frustratingly, he returned to bartending. Now, Chad, in his glorious nakedness, was the focus of the room. Yes, a few other subs were scantily dressed, but only Chad was completely naked... and fully boned up! I was so proud. As I was sipping on my third beer, Colton, the manager I spoke to earlier, approached me. "Say, we all saw your boy... ah... performed to pay for your beer. He did a wonderful job." Naked, collared, Chad was kneeling at my feet, licking my boots. "Thank you. He's just a beginner, but he's learning." "I can see that. Customers are asking how the pendulum works. Would you mind if we borrow him to do a demonstration?" "No problem," I told him as if bored. "Do what you wish." Then, to my boy, I said, "Pussie, go with this man and obey him to the fullest." No, I was not bored! I watched intently as my plan began to play out. However, in these "planned" events, there are a lot of unexpected spontaneous interactions with third parties, which makes the entire scene so excitingly wonderful. Chad was brought to the center area where the "pendulum dummy" had been hanging. The dummy was gone, leaving six heavy ropes hanging loosely from the ceiling. Chad looked at the dummyless dandling ropes. He put two and two together and became nervous and deliciously frightened. That's a magnificent sign! Instilling an element of terror, real or imagined, is essential to pussie boy training. Colton secured comfortable, padded leather cuffs to my boy's wrists and ankles. Then he placed Chad on the floor, belly up. The wrist cuffs were secured to one rope, and the ankle cuffs were secured to another. The ceiling ends were connected to a motorized pully system. But there were four more ropes still dangling. Before lifting Chad's body by his hands and feet, which would be very uncomfortable, a black leather-covered, padded board about a foot wide and two and a half feet long was slipped under Chad's back. This board had heavy-duty eye-bolts at each corner. The other four rope ends were then secured to those four eye-bolts. Now, the pully motor was engaged, and the loud grinding noise started as Chad was lifted to a waist-high level. A couple of points. First, the motor's noise was intentional to sadistically unnerve the subject. Second, the padded board that supported Chad from his shoulders to his lower back was essential for his comfort and to display his torso in the horizontal configuration they wanted. His body would have been in a useless U" shape without the board serving as a small, flat support. You might ask, "Why not just use a standard leather sling?" Well, the four corners of a sling are attached straight upward to the ceiling to four separate connection points. It's designed to be stable and unmovable. Here, all six ropes are connected to one pully point. If the subject is nudged or pushed, the entire apparatus moves like a swing, like a pendulum. Setting Chad up in the required position took a couple of knowledgeable guys several minutes to adjust the rope lengths as needed. Now Chad was level, waist high. His back was completely supported, and his hands and feet were positioned to the ceiling. The room was quiet. Colton also wore a lapel mic so everyone could hear. He spoke calmly to Chad, "Are you comfortable, pussie boy?" "Yes, sir," he replied in an uneasy tone. "Well, we'll just have to fix that, won't we." "Yes, sir." It seemed like Colton was speaking to himself or Chad, but his words were actually intended for the audience. "Let's see. With your legs up and close together, no one can see your hard dick. It's squished between your thighs. How dare you hide your dick from all of us? That's fucking rude!" "Oh, Sir, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me." How in the fuck was Chad to adjust his tied-up body in any way? That was funny but a nice touch. Colton took a thin, flat stick, like an oversized tongue depressor or a paint stir stick, and held it up to the audience. Then he squeezed his hand between Chad's tight thighs, found the boy's stiff dick, and gently pulled it out, BACKWARD, so it stuck out behind Chad's thighs. It now projected stiffly out at about a 30-degree angle from above the boy's balls and asshole. Then, the critical part. Colton wedged the thin, smooth stick between the jutting dick and the boy's thighs, so the dick could no longer slip back in. Chad's dick was now forced on display and... twitching. "I know you can't see what I just did, but I hope you appreciate my fixing your stupidity and rudeness. How arrogant of you to think you can hide your dick from all these honorable men. Your dick is now properly displayed outward." "Oh FUCK! Thank you, Sir! Thank you so much. I'll try to do better. I'm so sorry for my rude behavior." My Chad started to cry with extreme embarrassment, believing he was responsible for bad behavior. The audience applauded Chad's admission of wrongdoing. "Now that you apologized, there is no need to hear from you again." "Yes, Sir." Colton held up what looked like a large, black ridged ring, about two and a half inches in diameter. It was actually a double ring of ridged rubber with a tiny space between them. "Open up wide," Colton told Chad, and the boy did. Then Colton maneuvered the ring device into Chad's mouth, "Open wider, as wide as you can." Chad had to stretch his mouth to the max. With difficulty, Colton inserted one ring behind the boy's teeth and the other in front of his teeth. What a snug fit! Once in, Chad could relax his mouth, but only a little. Since Chad's arms were tied upward to the ceiling, that mouth stretcher could only be removed with the help of someone else. My pussie boy's mouth was as wide-jawed as practicable without dislocating anything. Initially, my boy was scared out of his mind. His eyes bugged out. He was freaked out that he had just lost control of his mouth. Secondly, depending on what might be inserted and how deep, he thought they would take away his ability to breathe. But my pussie boy got used to the mouth-stretcher within a few minutes. WHAT A FUCKING HOT IMAGINE! Chad, stripped totally naked, the only naked one in this public bar, tied securely with ropes and lying on his back on a small stiff board. The wood board did not support his head, so his head dropped back and down, causing his chin to point upward. His forced-opened mouth hole was now at dick level. His legs were tied upward, with his stiff dick -- and big balls - forced behind his thighs, on full display, with everyone watching his dick twitching and bobbing. Colton put his finger into Chad's mouth hole, not harshly, but just to signal that he could play with the boy's mouth as he pleased without objection or interference. "Oh, yes, not only a lovely, sexy, wet mouth hole," Colton pointed out, "but one that is nicely wide-stretched open for any of us to use." Playfully, he slid two of his long fingers in and around the boy's wet hole. "Do you want a lot of guys to stick their dicks into your mouth hole? Boy? To give you their cum and piss?" Those words made Chad's body shake and tremble. "HHHEEESSS. HHEERRRR." Was all he could utter. "So, and want of your asshole." Colton went to the boy's ass end. "Oh, lovely to see you holding your ridged dick out. How nice of you." "HHHEEESSS. HHEERRRR." "You look like a slutty whore cunt, pushing your dick out like that, begging someone -- anyone -- to suck it for you. Don't you, boy?' "HHHEEESSS. HHEERRRR." "Well," Colon continued to speak calmly, as all listened in, "I can't imagine anyone here, among all these fine gentlemen, would want to suck on a dick of an ass-eating, piss-drinking, fagot, cum dump like you." Then, with a fingertip, Colton lightly touched the tip of Chad's dick, tracing the edge of the mushroom head. "AAAAHHHHH!" Chad's body bounced and jerked in reaction. His body was not tied down to the board, so his hips could jerk up and down in response. "Oh my, I merely, barely, touched your dickhead. And it bothered you that much, huh?" "HHHEEESSS. HHEERRRR." "OK, my pussie boy. OK, I won't touch it anymore." Colton joked. "Oh, and lookie here, just under your dick, are your large balls. May I play with them?" "HHHEEESSS. HHEERRRR." I love Colton's sense of humor, asking the boy this and that as if his opinion mattered. "Oh, thank you, my little pussie boy. You are so kind and agreeable. But I see your balls are hanging loose. That's not very proper, is it? Would you like me to fix them for you?" "HHHEEESSS. HHEERRRR." Colton held up a small black leather band, like a tiny wristband, maybe one inch wide. After gently pulling Chad's balls out, he gently forced the balls fully down into the ball sack. Then he wrapped the band around the top of the kid's ball sack and snapped it closed. Chad's balls were now forced away from his body like a double balloon. Colton could not resist using his fingernails to light scratch the tightly stretched ball sack skin. "HHHAAAA! HEEEEEE! AHHHHH! HEEEEE!" Chad yelled wildly, wiggling his body all around as if he could escape those teasing touches. "Oh look, gentlemen." Colton pointed out to the room, "I only tickled his balls, and it made his dick bob and spit precum. I wonder if that's important." A roar of laughter filled the bar. "well, let's see. I'll try it again. I will use just one fingernail this time, my little pinky." And so he did. Just his little finger touched Chad's balls. And again, Chad went frantically wild. "And look, again, his dick twitched and jerked and spit." More laughter. "As our opening celebration will go on another six hours, you all will have all the time you want to tickle torture our new pussie boy `cause he ain't going nowhere." THIS SHOW WAS FUCKING AWESOME! I've never encountered such a drawn-out, detailed presentation of step-by-step public humiliation. FANTASTIC! "Now, I know you can't see what I did, but it does feel right to be properly displayed, don't it, boy? "HHHEEESSS. HHEERRRR. HHAAANNNKKK UUUOOO HHHEEERRR!" "Oh, my, I forgot about your asshole. Do you mind if I examine it for you?" "HHHEEEE, HHAAANNNKKK UUUOOO HHHEEERRR!" Colton now held up a HUGE dildo. "This should do nicely. But, let me give someone else a chance to work you over." A man, not in leather but in jeans and a T-shirt, made his way to the pendulum. His name was Landan. "Can you figure out how to loosen up his asshole?" Colton asked. "Sure, Colton." Then Landan took the giant dildo and walked to Chad's face to show it to him. "You see, boy? You see what I'm going to jam up your pussie hole? Would you like it shoved up there quickly? Or do you prefer it slowly inserted to give you time to adjust?" "HHHAAA HOOO HEEES, HO EEESSS!" No one knew what Chad said, but it didn't matter. That dildo was just for show, to scare Chad and make him uncomfortable." As Landan took the colossal dildo back to Chad's ass, Colton waved me up there. This was part of "our agreement." I made sure my boy did not see me walk up there. When I did, I took the dildo and set it down. I quickly unbuckled my pants and lowered them. Boy, was I fucking hard. Not nearly as big as the oversized dildo, but in Chad's mind. Anything that touched his asshole... he "knew" was that giant dildo. Such a good mind fuck!' I kept silent and stood two feet from Chad's ass. Landan, who was standing beside me, would do the speaking as if he was the fucker, the dildo fucker. I greased up my dick really good, because I knew Chad would try to clamp his asshole closed, trying to resist the imagined giant-sized rubber dick. The teen then slowly moved the pendulum "swing" back to me and let my dick kiss my pussie boy's ass. Then it was swung back slowly to Jerry, and his dick entered Chad's mouth hole about 3 inches this time. Then back to me, and my lubed-up dick entered, but only an inch. I could tell he was clamping his asshole closed. Landan then called out to the audience, "We need a helper up here. Who is an expert nipple pincher? Anyone?" Oddly, a 30-something black guy came up. He was obviously a sub since he had a collar, rings in his nipples, a leather jock, and nothing else. "Yes, Sir? My Master calls me `cunt mouth,'" He said. "I know all about nipple torture." Landan took one look at the young man's red, swollen tits and said, "I'll bet you do." Remember, Chad thought Landan was about to fuck him with that oversized dildo. He did not know I was the dick "owner" starting to fuck him. "OK, cunt mouth, your job is to stand at pussie boy's side, pinch his nipples super hard with your fingernails, until I tell you he is relaxing his asshole and becomes more compliant with me dildo-fucking him. "Yes, Sir." cunt mouth pinched both nipples and did not let go. "AAAAHHHHH HHHHOOOOOO HHHEEESSSS." "Do you get the situation, pussie boy?" Jerry asked him. "HHHEEEESSSS HHHHEEERRR," Chad shouted louder than ever." "Then you'd better relax your ass so that giant dildo can get shoved up there. Understand?" "HHHEEESSS HHHHEEERRR." As the pendulum swung back to me again, Chad let my dick slide in his hole about two inches. That's progress. Landan, speaking as if he was the fucker, "That much better pussie boy, but relax more. We have nearly a foot more to jam up your ass." We were all smiling at Landan's choice of words. Then back to the mouth dick, and Jerry was able to stick in four inches before the teen slowly reversed Chad's body back to me. Ah, now it is all happening as planned. The pendulum swings back and forth. Each time, he receives a dick deeper in his holes. Landan, speaking for me, "Yeah, pussie boy, just keep it up, keep both of your holes open for our use. Let the pendulum guide you. Let it move naturally to work you at both ends, to spit roast you, one end at a time." What a fucking sight! My pussie boy was tied on a "swing" on his back, arms and legs secured upward, and his head lolled back so his chin was up and his mouth hole aligned to receive dick. That fucking mouth-hole contraption held his mouth in a receptive "O," allowing Jerry's big powerful cock to go deeper at each swing. Then there is me. I've got my fuck pole slamming into my pussie boy's now relaxed asshole. So the pendulum swung to Jerry's dick, making the boy swallow, gag, and choke, then back to my fuck pole, plowing his ass balls deep! Controlled by a fucking 15-year-old! Pussie boy has no brakes, no steering, no control, no way to affect what enters his throat or asshole, or how deep. Over and over again. Back and forth, the pendulum swung. Fuck! I was so pleased! All the ropes from a single pulley apparatus made this gigantic pendulum swing SLOWLY back and SLOWLY forth. The teen knew it was time to increase the length of the swing strokes, and he did. Now on the mouth end, Jerry slid his dick in 5 inches, just barely touching the boy's throat. Then back to me as the teen had Chad's ass gobble six inches of my dick. Chad started to cry. The room was silent because everyone wanted to hear whoever was speaking and Chad's sobbing. "HHHHAAAA, HHHOOOO, HHHHAAAA!" The 15-year-old teen, mostly hidden under Chad's body, had a boner as well. He was enjoying slowly moving the pendulum back and forth, controlling everything. He'd giggle periodically, excited about his power. Now, the teen used more force, making slightly longer swings in each direction, driving dicks deeper. I didn't know this teen was Colton's son until after the event, but it makes sense that he was allowed in the bar at his age. And that he had experienced and/or observed many DOM-sub-erotic activities. After all, even though this was a new bar, Colton had been involved in S & M kink for a long time. I guess he raised his son to learn about the, shall we say... "the ins and outs" of these activities? Now, the 15-year-old is moving the pendulum the full length each way, but still slowly. Hey, in erotic torturer, everything is done extremely slowly. He swung it to Jerry, who now impaled my pussie boy fully into his mouth and a bit into his throat, then back my way where my dick now went balls-deep. Then, the teen let go of the pendulum. It was now free-swinging, back and forth. Giving Chad a quick throat fuck and then a quick ass fuck. A throat fuck, then an ass fuck. On and on. Throat fuck, ass fuck. Like a giant machine set on automatic. Ass fuck, throat fuck. Chad's entire body started to jerk and bounce uncontrollably. I could not take it. I had to plow his asshole as deep as I could to blast off. The next few times, his ass swung in my direction, and I grabbed his hips and did a quick one, two, three thrusts into him with all my might, then unloaded blast after blast into his gut. The audience, noticing my erotic high, applauded. It surprised me, so I took a funny bow and left to sit in the front row to continue to watch. Guys were patting me on the back. I thought the event was nearing an end. I thought Jerry was also going to climax into my boy. But he had more staying power. So, Jerry continued to fuck my pussie boy's throat, though no one was fucking his ass. Cunt mouth, with the ringed tits, who had been pinching Chad's nipples to get the boy to relax his asshole, stopped a while ago. The maneuver was no longer needed. But now cunt mouth was focused on Chad's trapped dick, which was forced backward and secured behind his thighs with that wedged-in stick, and stuck out at a 30-degree angle. That trapped dick was continuing to dance, jerk and twitch. It had been left unmolested... until now. Without asking anyone, cunt mouth kneeled where I had been standing at Chad's ass, and each time the teen swung Chad's ass his way, the Cunt mouth began to lick my pussie boy' dick. In fact, he was most creative. Each time Chad's ass was presented to him, he not only used his tongue on the boy's dick, he also used his fingers on the boy's balls to tickle them. The fact that Chad's dick and balls were tied and held at full display made pussie boy feel the ultimate humiliation. I guess I should say I know my boy was responding to the different erotic sensations and contorted himself, trying to stop all the attacks, but he was owned by the pendulum. Controlled by the teen guiding it SLOWLY back and forth. Chad had gotten used to the dick in and out of his throat, but the new ball-tickling and dick-tonguing were unbearable. "HHHHAAAA, HHHOOOO, HHHHAAAA!" Since Chad was not tied to the board supporting his back, he tried to push his back up, his belly upward. Why? That's the only maneuver he could do. He wanted to pull his dick and balls back between his legs to hide them, but they were secured behind his thighs. He tried to wriggle his ass, but nothing he did stopped the Cunt mouth from attacking those tied-up ballooned balls and angry ridged dick. I'm sure Chad did not realize that the pendulum was slowing and eventually stopped swinging. The teen guessed that the climax was nearing. Jerry stepped closer, and since the boy was not swinging, he plugged his dick into the boy's throat and pinched his nostrils closed to stop his ability to breathe. Cunt mouth also scooted up close to Chad's ass so he could fondle and tease pussie boy's asshole and balls all he wanted. Chad could not breathe, but he was more focused on his balls and dick being artfully tickled and teased. Finally, Jerry allowed Chad to breathe by releasing his nose and pulling his dick out an inch. You could hear pussie boy gasping and slobbering. Jerry could no longer hold out. He began his full-body thrusts and blasted several loads down Chad's throat. More applause and howls and whistles. Now, there was only cunt mouth working on the boy. Colton did something weird. He put his head close to Chad's and asked him some questions. Pussie boy mumbled back unintelligibly. Then Colton announced, "OK, gentlemen, I just spoke with our pendulum tester, Master Brock's new pussie boy. I was concerned that he had had enough wonderful pleasure and needed to be released. Or, at least, be allowed to climax. Well - and this may surprise you - he said no. Let me ask again, "Boy, are you sure you don't want to climax?" "HHHEEESSS. HHEERRRR," "He said, `Yes, Sir,' he does not." Colton said, "OK, let me ask him what he'd like us to do further?" Again, Colton bent over, "OK, boy. Do you want cunt mouth to continue to play and tease your dick and balls?" "HHHOOOO HHHEEERRR." "You heard him, folks. He does not want cunt mouth to stop. Well, since you don't want us to stop pleasing you, what else do you suggest?" Chad went wild, yanking his body around as much as he could and yelling and ranting for everyone to stop and to untie him so he could beat off. Of course, Colton knew, as did I, as did everyone in the bar, that he was demanding release, both from bondage and from being sadistically and forcefully edged. He was screaming, "I need to climax!" Unfortunately, it all came out in angry muffles and grunts. "OK, OK, pussie boy! You don't have to put up such a fuss. Calm down, and don't worry. We'll keep you all tied up and teased until you decide to climax. So it's all up to you." Of course, climaxing was not up to Chad. Then Colton again stooped down as if talking to Chad. So, tell me precisely what you'd like us to do to please you." Exhaustively, Chad mumbled incoherently. "Well, folks, listen to this. Pussie boy wants a dick in his throat. That's nice, but he also wants his nipples played with. He said to do it hard. And can someone shove something up his shit hole? Then he added that his most fantastic erotic fantasy is for someone to tickle his underarms and the soles of his feet. Wow! This beginner seems quite demanding." Guys were hooting and whistling. "Well, gentlemen, this is perfect. With the assistance of a few of you, we are going to demonstrate a rare experience called the volcano. First, I want to thank cunt mouth for his efforts licking and sucking pussie boy's ass and balls. You may stop now and take a seat so others can help. Now, let's have a couple of you up here." Oh my God, Colton called for a couple guys, and over two dozen men went up to the pendulum. "OK, OK. We can accommodate all of you in two or three groups. OK, the first group of guys, please encircle our tied-up pussie boy. Just squeeze in anywhere. The rest of you will just stand by; you'll be next." These men eagerly nudged their way to tightly encircle Chad. "Great, except you two. You taller guys, please move to where pussie boy's feet are." Colton explained, "You're tall enough to easily tickle and nibble on our boy's toes." And the two tallest took their positions. They were ideal for toe suckers since Chad's feet ended up about six feet high. The rest of you may begin to touch whatever part of the boy's body is in front of you. You may lightly tickle, kiss, nibble, lick, pinch, and otherwise molest that area. Yew, it's quite alright to squeeze in. That's fine. The more hands and mouths on pussie boy's tied-up body, the better." "There are only two rules to create the volcano. One, no one may touch pussie boy's dick until I say so. And two, all touches must be easy, teasy, and sensual." I don't think Chad was paying attention. I'll bet he's concentrating on just being released. And soon. "Oh, one correction," Colton pointed out, "no touching his dick in any way. But those at the boy's ass end may do whatever you wish to his ass, balls, ass checks, and ass crack you want. Let's see, I count 13 guys squeezed in. Perfect. That's 26 hands and 13 mouths and tongues." "Does that include fucking?" Someone asked. "Yes, but only gentle fucking. Same with the guys who want to shove their dicks into his mouth hole. You must be gentle and easy. Don't make him gag or choke, and it's OK to push your dicks into his throat, but only do it momentarily, like a tease." Colton looked at the guys, "Any more questions?" Can we pinch his nose closed when there is a dick blocking his throat to stop him breathing?" "Oh, yes. I see what you mean. Yes, you can, and in that case, your dick can stay in his throat for a few minutes. "Everyone applauded and cheered. "Blake, would you take care of making the video? We want to watch the close-up image of pussie boy's volcano dick on our TV screen. Just hold your phone above everyone's heads and record the money shot for all to see." "Sure, boss," the bartender responded." "Now, you all will do this, all at once, but I'd like the armpits and feet ticklers to start first. And then everyone can join in." As soon as my boy's armpits and feet were tickled and licked, Chad went wild. "HHHHAAAA, HHHHOOO HHHHEEESSS HHHHOOOPPPP!" That's the best he could do with the awful mouth stretcher wedged in his mouth. His body shook and trembled and spasmed. His trapped dick, secured behind his thighs, was angrily impatiently waiting for attention... which never came. I knew what was coming and placed a small bowl on the floor, just under Chad's balls. Guys were taking turns fucking his mouth hole, others pinching his nipples. One guy was stooped way down at the boy's ass, licking it like crazy, tongue fucking it. The others were licking, kissing, or scratching Chad's body everywhere. After ten minutes or so, "OK, guys, let the others work in to assist." And the bar patrons moved around. Some stood back, others came forward. "Wonderful!" "HHHHEEESSS HHHHOOOPPPP! HHHHEEESSS HHHHOOOPPPP!" Chad was screaming to no avail. "OK, Master Brick, would you like to do the honors?" It was prearranged. "Of course, Colton," I told him and stepped up to my boy's ass. I nudged a couple guys to make room as I kneeled there. "Everyone continue as you are doing. I'm going to touch my pussie boy's twitching dick with one finger on the underside. Blake, make sure you capture this. I want everyone to watch this on the giant screen." And there it was. I looked up and saw the close-up of Chad's dick, now quivering as I lightly -- VERY LIGHTLY -traced the underside from his balls to his dick tip and back. I did that just once. Chad went into a frenzy, jerking all over and screaming, "HHHEEESSS. HHEERRRR, HHHHEEESSS HHHHOOOPPPP!" And then it started pussie boy;' dick began to drip. No precum, not blasts of cum, just leak cum down the sides of his intensely rigid bound dick, like lava flowing from a mighty volcano. The cum was dripping down his dick, down his balls, and eventually into the cup I placed on the floor. "You see? Let me continue." I said. Then I used one finger and -VERY LIGHTLY-TRACED it around the edge of his mushroom head. "You see? Everyone, he is seeping cum. We all took away his ability to shoot a climax, so we are forcing him to seep and leak it out. Everyone was applauding and shouting cheers. They never saw a fountain of cum, a controlled climax. I went on further, "Watch this. This time I won't even touch his dick." Then, the big screen showed my fingernails scratching pussie boy's ball sack. Again, Chad went cray, jerking and "trying" to twist his body. Actually, trying to pull his dick and balls away. But his stick and balls were trapped, devilishly pushed behind his thighs, and secured there, trapped there, with a small smooth stick. And the balls were forced there also because they were snuggly collared, forcing them to be wickedly displayed away from his body. "HHHEEESSS. HHEERRRR, HHHHEEESSS HHHHOOOPPPP!" Then it happened. Pussie boy stopped jerking and fighting. He went limp and still and...cried. He surrendered. He turned his body most willingly over to us, all of us, to use control and enjoy. As he cried, and I mean loudly, he didn't care who heard him -- we all did. Talk about cheers and howls and applause? Everyone was ecstatic. Chad used to be a straight kid, a clean-cut high school sports hero whose main concern was his neat appearance, impeccable clothes, and being held in high esteem by others. Now, Chad had no concerns about his clean-cut look or the need to dress in preppy clothes. And, of course, his image and self-esteem? He had none. All those here saw him as boy meat. A sex toy. Everyone who had been tickling and tormenting him stopped. Of the two guys at his head, one pet his face, and the other pet his hair. All others touched him all over gently and compassionately. He continued to cry and remained still and limp. He was done trying to control himself or control what others would do to him. He surrendered. Totally. His tears were his sign of complete capitulation. All that is wonderful. I signaled for one of the guys to remove his mouth-stretcher piece. He did this with some difficulty since it was really wedged in there. Pussie boy blubbered in a soft, crying whimper, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, so sorry." So... it was all over. ARE YOU KIDDING? I nodded to Blake to continue filming. All eyes returned to the large monitor on the wall. I gently slipped my finger into the pussie boy's ass hole to find his prostate. I have long fingers, so it was easy. I simply massaged it slowly and lovingly. "AAAAHHHHHHHH!" Chad's dick was continuously oozing cum, more this time. With my other hand, I delicately fondled his dick and his balls. Never enough pressure to "make" him climax. All were petting him, calming him, loving him. The petting was a way to relax him completely and to "pet" the remaining balls juice out of him. Finally, the volcano flow ended. I nodded to the guy next to me to take the small bowl of his cum and feed it to him. He brought it to Chad's face, tilted his head fully up, and held it up for him since the boy was exhausted. And slowly poured the cum into Chad's mouth. That did it. Pussie boy's body shook involuntarily. And he collapsed. As soon as I brought, half carried, Chad back home, I knew he was totally out of it. I set him down on my bedroom floor, and he was out... again. I left him alone. But I, too, was exhausted. I stripped naked, fell on my bed, and went into deep sleep. I was having a weird dream, but a pleasant one. I felt so good. My balls felt wonderful, as did my dick. I refused to transition from light sleep to awake. I was on a cloud, floating, naked. My balls were sending waves of erotic sensations through my body. I didn't want it to stop, so I refused to wake up and open my eyes. I didn't want to leave this blissful dreamland. I even found my hips undulated, slowly up and down. Was I fucking a cloud. A wet, warm clod. Wonderful, fabulous. Awesome. My hips were in automatic, and my dick was gently rubbed with warmth and wetness. I* moaned, What a fucking joy. I didn't want to open my eyes, but I slowly did. Chad was baked, of course, and between my legs. Gently licking my balls and lightly sucking my dick, his Master's all-powerful dick. Awesome. I didn't say anything as my uncontrollable hip undulated slowly. As his mouth descended and swallowed my dick to his throat, all I could think of was that my dick was home in that nice warm throat. No gagging, no choking, just pleasing contact, like my dick was getting a comforting bear hug from his throat muscles. His throat muscles were hugging me. Then I realized I should tell him to stop. He must be tired. Then, I realized, why should I? He is mine. Fully mine. My property, my mouth hole to use for as long as I wanted, in any way I wanted. I sort of giggled at the thought that my hips were slowly fucking his throat, AND I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT! Yes, I am surrendering to his control, but it is the control I taught him to take. I am so fucking pleased at my ability to train a pussie boy. Chad had exceeded all my expectations. I've said that my modus operandi is to train a pussie boy until I drain them off all fight, of all resistance, then dump them. Why? Because at that point, they are no longer a challenge, no longer fun. They become uninteresting. So, I dump them and move on to the next one. But Chad is not uninteresting. He is perfect. Perfect boyish look, a perfect mildly toned body, and now, has the perfect attitude and maximum usefulness. Perfect. He is now back to my balls, licking and kissing. He even tries to wiggle his tongue under them to reach my asshole. I think I'll roll over, but then again, no. Let him continue. Worshipping my body is for him to do without my assistance. Now his mouth is engulfing my dick again, gently, caressingly. My hips never stop undulating. I guess he is not letting them stop. I am so fucking pleased. I am so complete, lying here in a state of mindless erotic bliss. My boner is being worshiped by my well-trained and obedient pussie boy, and all is well. Yeah, he's a keeper. The end For more of my stories, go to GayTies.com. Many guys want to see my profile there. That's easy. When you join (it's free), log in, click on "Find Mmember," and then type in BruceDarkforce." You'll see me. And thank you, Nifty, for helping us writers expose themselves.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/bodybuilder-trains-a-new-pussie-boy/bodybuilder-trains-a-new-pussie-boy-5	Date: Sun, 24 Mar 2024 04:58:26 -0700 From: gayD Subject: Bodybuilder Trains a New Pussie Boy- Chapter 5 There is poor, handsome, sexy, cute Chad, formally a lady's man, as lady-killer, as they say, rolling on the gym floor, wallowing in piss, cum, and vomit. A "normal" person would say, "Not a pretty sight!" But to Brock and his muscle-bound gym buddies, Chad was the most gorgeous pussie boy they had ever seen... or made. Chad was the most magnificent, boner-building sight! The thing is, Chad has been complying because of threats. Will that change? Ever? Will he willingly submit? I cannot imagine him doing that, but then again, I'm just the author. Bodybuilder Trains a New Pussie Boy Part 5 of 6 Chad knelt there on all fours like a horse and shook his head from side to side. You would have sworn he was neighing. He was sobbing, of course. Have you ever seen a nice, strong, cute young college boy cry so hard that he can hardly function? It is really sexy. Chad's masculine image and manly overtures to the ladies at the bars - gone! Every last bit of his sex appeal to women now all faded away. Where did this big-dicked, girl-fucking stud go? Well, he's now a whimpering fagot pussie cunt of a whore. OK, so maybe not totally, not yet. Chad knew he had no choice, so he lowered his head to the floor and started to lick up all the crap that had poured from his mouth and pisser. "I got to tell you, Brock, I do believe he is the most disgusting piece of shit I have ever seen!" Commented Rick, stroking his fat dick. We had him crawl into the shower area when the floor was clean. "Keep that ass up nice and high when you crawl. Show us that pretty little cunt!" I have worked with enough boys to know what he was thinking about this time. He thought that if he could just hold on and put up with the abuse a little longer, it would end sometime soon. He was thinking, eventually, it would end. Fuck was he wrong! The more I saw this little stud suffer, the more ideas came to me for things I could do to make him suffer more. I mean, for Christ's sake, this was only our first date! And everyone knows you take it easy on the first date. For example, you don't fuck as hard as you'd like to because you don't want to wreck the bitch too soon. On the first date, you encourage the bitch, telling her what a good job she is doing, sucking dick, or whatever. Later, once you have settled into the relationship, you beat the shit out of her if she doesn't suck well enough. I loved the sight of his ass high and his balls swinging between his legs as he crawled to the shower. All the guys were entranced with the sight, followed. There was not a soft dick in the place, except for Chad's. "Don't worry about the guys fucking your ass. They can pretty much take care of themselves. You just think about your sucking. I don't want a single complaint, you hear?" He was really wiped out. He kept sobbing that he couldn't take it. He kept begging us for mercy. Some of the guys wanted to fuck his face in the shower, so we let them get started. I reminded him of our black friend's lesson and warned him that he had better give a superior blowjob to every dude. As I said, these guys can shoot three or four loads a night, so after his long three-minute, restful, peaceful break, the fucking continued. A half dozen of us followed him into the locker room to shower. While in the shower, Charles took an empty water bottle, filled it with soapy water, and squeezed it into his gut. When done, he then eased a shower hose up his ass to fill him up, or as they say, to top him off. Charles didn't want to cause the boy any permanent damage. After all, all these men had done this possie training several times before. Chad looked nine months pregnant again and screamed his lungs out. Then we made him kneel and squirt the shit water out of his ass down the shower drain. "Hey," I shouted to two heavy-breathing horny studs at one point. "Why don't a couple of you who are really well-hung, see if you can get two dicks up his ass at the same time." Now Chad would appreciate why I had opened him up earlier with the rubber dick. I also suggested that they try to get two dicks in his mouth simultaneously. And so, it started. And we used every corner of the gym. First, it was in the shower, the locker room, and then on the gym floor. It was two at a time. While one guy fucked, the other got sucked. Rick and I had something to eat and a beer or two. We kicked back to watch some TV while the fucking and sucking went on and on. At one point, some of the guys came in complaining that Chad was pretty fucking listless. It seems he was either in shock or totally exhausted. So, I had Phil, an expert with a Taser, perk him up. Tasing the balls can do wonders and give a boy more energy. Cum poured out of his ass, as none of the guys wore a condom. After an hour of more fucking, Phil had Chad squat over a large empty pail. Then, Tased him good once again. This cause Chad to convulse uncontrollably and squirt out everything in his ass. It was an amazing amount. He kept burping and puking up cum. I decided to be nice to him and allow him a much longer rest this time -- a full four-minute rest before he continued sucking and getting fucked. His asshole was bright red and sore as hell. It was stretched and loose, but I knew it would tighten up again eventually. His ass lips, however, would probably stay thick and slightly turned out from all the cock, kind of like a cunt! When he tried to speak, he had no voice left. He could only make raspy sounds that were incoherent mumblings and pleadings. He was lying on the floor, grumbling to no one. I pet his hair as one would soothe his loving dog. Then I left him there and went into the office to get the present I bought for Chad. Well, not specifically for Chad. It was for whoever would be my next conquest. I got this a few months back, knowing I would need it someday soon. From the office, I looked over the counter at my new pussie whore. My eyes started to tear up with pride. He was naked, worn-out, emotionally destroyed, physically exhausted, dripping cum and snot from his mouth and nose. With the right side of his head motionless on the floor with his mouth open, his tongue relaxed, hanging out onto the floor. He was coated in sweat and cum and piss. His hair was cutely matted and reminded me of a dejected, starving, homeless teen in some scuzzy alley looking for a newspaper to cover himself to sleep. Yes, I was so fucking proud. I just met him less than 36 hours ago, and he has been everything I like in a straight boy. I want to train him to be my personal faggot pussie boy. I found the package I was looking for and brought the small box over to where Chad had collapsed in the middle of the gym. I rolled him on his back, then sat down with my thighs on each side of his head so the top of his head was pressed against my big balls. He stared blankly at the ceiling. I lifted my long floppy dick and placed it on his face, where the tip landed on his closed lips. He was still out of it. I pinched his titties hard to get his attention, and he came back to life with a hoarse scream. "Chad, now I know you're having so much fun. You want to keep worshiping all these muscle studs until dawn. And that's fine with me. I want you to enjoy yourself. That shows me you are being a good pussie cunt boy. What do you think about that?" He looked up at my face and likely did not know my dick was on his lips, but he started to tell me, "Please ... no more ... home ... take me ... please ... can't do nothing ... please ... Sir ... " "Now, Chad, I understand you are confused. I mean, you've been sucking dick, licking balls and ass, getting your ass plowed. Wow, you have been having a lot of fun, haven't you?" I flash a big, broad smile, reflecting my excitement. "That's to be expected, Chad. You have been misled all your young life and denied the wonderful experience of pleasing real men like us. I know we just set you free here to have all the slutty sex you have secretly dreamed about but were afraid to acknowledge out loud. Chad, I'm sure you are a little overwhelmed, so let me clarify this." I removed the slave collar from the box and held it up over his face." "Now, here are your two choices. If you want to stay here and party and become the faggot pussie you know you want to be, you may wear this black leather slave collar. See, it has your name on it, `pussie slut'. And we will continue with your training and expand it to no limits. I know what is in your best interest, so I know this is probably your choice." "However, Chad, it's got to be your decision here if you prefer to end our beautiful, loving relationship and go home from here. You get this," and I held up Phil's Taser. "Well, you don't actually get the Taser. You get all your body parts Tasered for you." Chad's eyes popped wide open, and I finally got his full attention. He obviously didn't want to get Tased again, but he also heard the words "go home" and "end our relationship." Yep, he looked at me most intensely, and there was still my long dick lying across his lips. He never opened his mouth or struck out his tongue, but my dick was just there. "But wait, here's the fun part. This becomes a really cool game, with rules and challenges and everything. You see, all 28 of us will gather around you, and each gets one opportunity to shock you. BUT - and this is really cool - the rule is you get to pick which of your body parts each guy gets to shock. I know what you are thinking; you have each guy here Tase your dick or balls. Yeah, that would be fun, but we make it more interesting. When you choose a body part, let's say your dick, and that gets shocked, you cannot choose that part again. So maybe you chose your balls. Well, you'd have to say right or left, and the next guy Tases you there. As all the obvious parts get Tased, you'll still have to come up with a total of 28 parts. So, you start to choose your left ear, right eye, or maybe your Adam's apple, and so on. So, you really get to show your knowledge of anatomy." "I know what you're thinking; might 28 shocks be too much? Well, I am not sure. We never Tased a pussie boy 28 times before. Usually, after 10 or 11 shocks, a boy passes out to the point he cannot be revived. But you're much stronger. I will say this: the few pussie boys who have chosen the Taser changed their minds after just a few shocks and admitted that they really, honestly wanted to continue on with their training for the few months that we would have him." Then, I looked upward as I reflected on those past experiences. "As I think about it, every boy either chose to stay in training or chose the Taser game and then changed his mind after a few shocks and asked to stay as our pussie boy." "But, as I said, this is your choice and whichever ... " "Please ... Sir... please don't ... Tase me. I want ... I want ... to stay in training," Chad yelled out, interrupting me. Then he cried and sobbed, and there was no way to stop his crying for a while. "Chad, you should not interrupt me, but I understand you are eager to suck more dick, get fucked, eat ass, and drink piss. And that's not even the most interesting stuff we'll train you to do." "But, as I said, I want to be fair. Show me a sign you freely choose to be my cock-sucking, faggot pussie boy." It finally dawned on him that my dick was lying across his lips, and he stuck out his tongue and began to lick my lovely drippy dick. To really get to sucking it, he tilted his head way back, pointing his chin to the ceiling, so he could aggressively swallow more of my dick. I didn't have to instruct him at all. I let him enjoy himself for a few minutes. "OK, Chad, I like your eagerness. And you can continue sucking my dick. I only want you to stop sucking me when I mention something you would refuse to do." He nodded, though I don't know how much he paid attention to my words as he chowed down my massive meat fuck stick. "So, you will return to school and drop out completely." I watched his mouth suck without a pause. "And I'll take you to work, and you will make sure they understand you will not return." Again, he kept sucking. "And you'll call this silly girlfriend and call her a bitch, a slut, and a cunt, to make sure she will have no more to do with you, ever." Chad was nodding his head slightly as he continued to please my dick, accepting my will and conditions. It was three in the morning, except for Rick. All the others had gotten dressed and left. They had all the fun they could handle for an evening. Plus, most of them had to go to work in a few hours. Chad continued to lick and suck my now stiff dick. I didn't feel like climaxing right now. I enjoyed his mouth work so much. It had been a long day, and training a new pussie boy takes a lot of energy. I know it's all fun and games for the pussie boy, but it is stressful for me. So, I was just resting and relaxing. After a wonderful 20 more minutes, "OK, Chad, get up on your knees and face me." He released my happy dick, which stiffly bounced around like a sword making fencing moves, and pulled himself up to his knees. "OK, so you want to continue. And that means you have earned your collar." And he stared at it in my hand. OK, so maybe he thought this was something he'd just remove whenever he wanted. And maybe he didn't mean all he'd just agreed to. That's possible. That's probable. But remember, his training just started, and if he ever changes his mind, of course, I will let him. I don't want him if he does not want to be here. But then we'd do the Taser game and see if he really wants to leave or does he freely prefer worshiping all our dicks and assholes. I want it to be his decision. I only keep a fully trained pussie boy for two or three years, even though I initially tell them three or four months. After that, they lose every shred of resistance, become compliant, and become boring. So, not fun anymore. That's when I'm done with them. I usually take them to a gay leather bar on the most popular night. This was true in the case of the last pussie boy I created. His name was Thomas something. He was the president of his high school class. God, was he a challenge. He insisted that he was straight. He fought me for nearly two full months, insisting he was not gay and that, as he put it, "You can force me to suck dick, but I will always hate doing it." Taser training helped quite a bit in his case. Call it shock therapy. I left him at a rather rough motorcycle bar maybe eight months ago. I had him wear clothes as we entered, and after a drink or two, I maneuvered him into the restroom. "Strip. Kneel." And he did. I took all his clothes and put them in a plastic bag I brought in. He never earned his collar, never made it that fair. So, I tied hands, separately, in the corners of the steel urinal. On the mirror, I taped a brief note that read: "Feel free to use this well-trained slut for tonight or more permanently. He is available for anyone to take home and own." I know one of the bikers who used him as a toilet, made a video of him and posted it on GayTies.com. I learned months later that Thomas something was brought to the bar owner's attention, and he was auctioned off the following week in a fundraiser for AIDS. So, you see, I am also providing a service to the gay community. [If any Nifty readers are interested, there is a video showing Thomas something tied up in the men's room of that leather bar, begging for piss and cum. To find it, log in to GayTies.com, click "Video Library," then click "filter," and then type in Toilet Sub. It will pop up. Enjoy!] Now, let's stick to one pussie boy at a time, so back to Chad. There he was, kneeling in front of me. "Chad, since you insist on wanting the full pussie boy training program, you just earned this." I held up the collar to his face, and he cried. He had no idea what would happen to him, but he just decided to fully comply. He was sobbing. His body ached, his asshole was painfully stretched, and even his nipples were red and swollen. But he presented his neck to me. "No, Chad, I won't place this on you. You will have to place it on yourself. That would please me so much. But first, feel how heavy it is." Chad took hold of it and was surprised at the weight. "There is a titanium steel banned inside the leather covering. It can't be cut, not even with bolt cutters." He stopped sobbing and was now focused on learning about his new collar. "And look here, you see these metal fasteners that will be pushed together to secure it around your neck? Well, this is ingenious. It's a titanium locking system. Once closed together, it cannot be opened. It's a one-way lock. There is no key. There is no place to stick a key into it." Chad was amazed. "How ... how ... a ... how do you ... ah ... " "How do you remove it? I never tried, so I really don't know. I've never seen anyone try to remove this style of collar. The instructions warn the buyer to `be careful because it is not removable.' So, I think it really is permanent." "So, here you go." And I dropped the weighty collard in his hands. "But, get up. Let's go over here." I walked Chad over to the full-length mirror. "See if you can do it yourself. Make me proud." Chad placed it around his neck but could not figure out how to secure it together. "Please, Sir?" I was so boned up. Chad was going to be mine for as long as I wanted him. "You want me to lock this on you? Do you? Then what do you say, Chad? You'd better really express your sincere feelings." "Sir, please lock this around my neck, Sir," Chad politely asked. But I wanted to hear more gut-wrenching defeatism. "Lock what? And why do you want this? And who are you to want this?" I encouraged him to lay it all out on the line. He looked me directly in the eyes. I told him before to only look at my dick, never my eyes. But, in this case, needed to see my look of absolute seriousness. "Sir, please lock this slave collar around my neck to symbolize that I am your slutty pussie boy, and I realize it can never come off. And I really want to please you and obey you." "Turn around." Yes, it is a bit complex to fasten. I took the two sturdy metal ends, depressed the two tiny metal buttons, and then pushed the ends together and down. Then I tested it. I wiggled it. I even pushed the same buttons again to see if it would release, but it did not. I have used several of these new self-locking collars made in Amsterdam, and I am always amazed at how well they lock. I stepped back and admired it. Chad also stared in the mirror, stepping closer to clearly examining his slave collar. He was feeling it all over, the chrome studs, the shiny black leather, and even reaching around to feel the locking system at the back of his neck, but there was nothing to feel. I looked down, and for the first time, Chad had an erection all on his own, without him or anyone touching his dick. He probably did not even know it at the time. I didn't point it out, but I did enjoy seeing it twitch and jerk upward. "What do you say?" "Thank you, Sir, Mr. Brock," Chad said calmly and sincerely. "What do you do?" Chad looked a little confused but took a good guess. He kneeled and started sucking my dick. I mentioned that I wanted to just keep my "happy" boner for a while, but his cute, boyish face had me fully in his power. I just let it go and couldn't hold back any longer. I thrust my hips sharply into his mouth and down his throat. SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! SLAM! AH, YEEEESSSS! Yes, he spilled some, and yes, he was too eager, but there will be a lot of time for me to train him further in cock sucking and other sexual whore games. I signaled for him to remain kneeling where he was as I turned my front away and presented my backside. I wondered for a moment if I needed to instruct him, and before I could issue that commend, I felt his hands on my ass cheeks, spreading them, and his soft wet tongue lightly licking up and down my crack. FUCK! This pussie boy felt so good. I leaned forward just a bit to give him maximum access. Man-oh-man, did his tongue feel good. Then I was amazed. I looked in the mirror, between my wide-spread legs, I saw Chad's dick harder than before and now leaking faggot snot. He was oozing pre-cum. I watched the slowly elongating crystal rope hanging from his dick slit. Again, I don't think Chad knew he was oozing pre-cum. His hands remained on my ass cheeks, and his tongue made love to my ass. It just seemed clear that that was his total concentration. It had nothing to do with himself. My ass was his world at the moment. To avoid him touching his dick and splitting his attention between my ass and his dick, I was about to order him to keep his hands on my ass checks and avoid touching his dick. I like to correct a boy before he does the wrong things. But I took a chance and said nothing, hoping he would figure out what to do. So, I said nothing. I felt a bit of pressure on the inside of my legs, nudging them. I didn't think about it. I just placed them a foot apart. WHAT WAS THAT?! I heard a strange sound. What the fuck?! I wondered if it was Rick, out of my line of sight, who was beating off and moaning at watching me. But Rick was not nearby. There it was again. What?! Oh my god. It is Chad. He is involuntarily moaning with pleasure as he is licking my ass crack! And again, another moan, so pleasing, so loving, so wonderful. I checked Chad's dick in the mirror. That glassy rope of pre-cum reached the floor, though it did not break free from his dick. Chad was tethered to the floor -AND HE DIDN'T EVENT KNOW IT! He was actually making a tiny puddle between his knees. AND he was not noticing it. HE WAS TOTALLY UNAWARE AND UNCONCERNED HE HAD A MIGHT, BOBBING, JERKING, DRIPPING ERECTION! Now, during our marathon cock sucking ass-fucking training session today with the 28 other muscle guys here, it also included Chad licking and sucking assholes, a lot of assholes. Since Chad is treating my ass so well, many of the guys here must have instructed Chad on various methods and techniques they liked. I mean, in the very first instruction I gave Chad on kissing and licking my asshole, it was just basic, "Do it." I did not go into any techniques I wanted him to learn. That detail would be taught later. So, Chad must have learned how to please many of the men he rimed. He must have learned these wonderful techniques he is using on me now. I never considered using others to train him, but this is nice. Another method I like that he is doing to me right now is applying a nice amount of pressure by pulling my ass cheeks wide apart and steadily holding them in the position. It shows me that he is aggressively interested in getting every bit of my ass crack washed in his spit. And it allows him to make teasy detail patterns on my crack. He has not even pushed his tongue into my asshole yet. He was just concentrating on pleasing my ass crack. Again, some tapping on the inside of my legs, at my ankles, so I stepped them now 2 feet apart. It was an unconscious action on my part. I was only aware of the wonderful sensations around my asshole. And then, it just happened. His tongue darted over my ass lips. That gave me a little charge. There, he just did it again. The thing is, he is using his creativity and his inventiveness to be extremely erotically thorough. At first, he avoided tonguing my hole or even touching it. And now he is making tiny circles on my ass lips. Still, he has not attempted to enter my ass. I pushed back at his tongue to signal it was time to enter my hole. God, I want his tongue inside me RIGHT NOW! However, letting him do it his way because he is reading me correctly is also heavenly. Fuck, I am really enjoying this. Now, I don't like a cum-dump, faggot pussie slut to tell me what to do. Like now, he is telling me he will stick his tongue up my ass when he thinks I am ready for it. I know I could just shout out, "FUCK! Do it now, pussie bitch! Stick your fucking tongue up my hole NOW!" But how can you argue with success? I just came a few minutes ago. And I can see my big dick throbbing again. AND HE DIDN'T EVEN RIM MY HOLE DEEP, NOT AT ALL. HE WAS JUST LICKING, TICKLING, NIBBLING, AND TEASING MY CRACK AND MY ASS LIPS. AND I NEED TO SHOOT OFF AGAIN, AND NOW. It usually takes me at least an hour or more to get the need to climax again. But not this time, and considering this has been a very stressful day, I just like to have Chad work me over. More tapping. I found myself spreading my legs wider, more uncomfortable, now three feet apart, no... more like four feet apart. I'm not thinking. My asshole is my focus. With my feet spread wide and Chad's hands forcefully spreading my ass cheeks, he had total access and control of my asshole. I wanted to give him commands to tell him what to do, but I couldn't think of anything to say. FUCK! Whatever he was doing was perfect. Fucking perfect. Why would I disrupt his... his... power. So, what if I'm not giving him direction at the moment. He is just intuitive. He can read body language he has practiced on two dozen other men today. So, this boy can learn. And Chad is still moaning with pleasure. Amazing. I know when we leave here, which we will do soon, he will fight and resist full bore when I take him out to the parking lot totally naked, not even in his string mankini, just in his flesh. Oh yeah, he will rebel and complain and try to argue. I am so fucking on edge. My dick is bobbing, twitching, spasming. I can't take it anymore! I immediately turn around and shove my leaking boner into his face. Let's see what he has learned from the guys he sucked off today. When he milked me the first time, I just shot. I just needed that. Or ... did he cause me a quick blast off? When I turned around, he let go of my ass cheeks and refocus on my dick. I first noticed that his hands never went down to his own throbbing dick. It can't be true, but it's almost like he has no concerns about his dick, his need to shoot. His dick just twitched and dripped. Chad placed his hands on my muscular thighs and positioned his face a little lower than my dick. I decided to let him preform whatever new technique he learned today. I do like seeing his cute, sweet, innocent, boyish face. He moved in for the suck. And then, no suck. I wanted to thrust my hips forward to get him to get me off... like now. Rick had locked up and was in the office doing paperwork, so I did not want to keep him here too long. Then I felt his wonderful, wet, silky tongue on my balls. FUCK! Can't he see my fuck pole jutting out like a baseball bat? Leaking pre-cum all over his face? Needing release? Now? He was tenderly licking my ball sack. He actually contorted his head to reach way under me to my perineum, That super sensitive area between my balls and my asshole. He slowly licked me all the way from my asshole to the back of my hanging all sacks, up to the front of my balls, to the base of my dick, all the way to the twitching dick mushroom head., He avoided going any further than the ridge, stopping and reversing that trail. He went slowly, and I mean SLOWLY, back down my dick, to my balls, to under them, all the way to my asshole. He worked my balls fully, sucking my big fellows into his mouth and tonguing them like a washing machine. My dick was begging, and I do mean FUCKING BEGGING his mouth for just a little bit more friction. It was standing at full mast, twitching dramatically, poking him in the nose, for Pete's sake. Then -- FINALLY! - he placed his mouth on my dick! But... did not suck it. I could not help it. My hips just thrust forward to fuck his mouth hard. That's it. I'll fuck his mouth like crazy and blast off. So, I did, but he merely moved his head back each time I moved my dick forward, and he never closed his mouth around my angry pole. WHAT THE FUCK! WHO THE FUCK DOES THIS FAGOT PUSSIE CUNT MOUTH THINK HE IS! I'm the God damn Master here, the Dom, the Boss. Look, I know I could just grab his head and force it sharply onto my dick. I can root my dick firmly into his throat. But ... this is different. This feels so good. I could pretend in my mind, and to anyone else watching this slave suck session, that I have trained him to do exactly this, to edge me, to use all his cleverness to draw out my impending climax. OK, now he is gently sucking my dick, taking long, slow wiping motions with his lips. He swallows my dick fully and then, without much pressure, pulls his lips slowly over my dick to the tip. He avoids only the head of my dick. Then, very slowly, he "goes down" on the shaft, all the way down to the root -- HE'S NOT EVEN CHOKING OR GAGGING! - and just when my dick head bumps his throat opening, he reverses and slowly pulls his lips fully back to the tip. My hands were hanging down by my sides, so I placed them on his mussed-up sweat-soaked hair. I am so tempted to force his head roughly onto my dick to thrust my hips sharply into him. FUCK! I really want to do that. But ... is he teaching me something new. He's never sucked a dick before he met me. I know that's a fact. And here, this fucking newbie faggot, pussie boy, cock sucker is showing me new heights of pleasure. Well ... isn't that what one trains a slave slut pussie whore to do? And I'm supposed to stop him? Are you fucking crazy?! Now he has my hair-trigger dick fully in his mouth. He's not sucking it at all, just holding it in his mouth as it twitches and dances around wildly. My fucking hands are resting gently on his head, but I'm not grabbing his hair and forcing his head this way or that. I want to, but I don't want to disrupt his artfulness. Then it starts. Oh, no. OH FUCKING NO! His hands begin to fondle my balls. Worse even, he's using his thumb and index finger of each hand to tickle and fondle my big balls. He's lightly scratching and teasing them. Playing with my balls. THAT IS SO FUCKING COOL. It's like erotic ball torture. I want my hands to pull his face into my junk, choke him to death any way I can. I just want to fucking climax. Chad was moaning a lot. He was really pleased to pleasure me. Now, that is impressive. Look. OK, this edging is cute and teasy, even extremely erotic. BUT... I am not into that. I just want to fuck a nice warm hole, any hole, hard., Slam it good, and nut all over the place. That's how I do it. I'm not into little prissy games. I'm a man! Damn it. I just want to fuck a bitch and go. Shit, now I feel his other fingers on the inside of my thighs. His thumb and index fingers are continually playing with my balls. Then, I feel both his hands firmly pressing against my inner thighs, kind of pushing there. This pussie cunt boy is so funking demanding, always wanting clear, unobstructed access to my balls and asshole. What's that about? I found myself responding to tapping as I spread my feet further apart... even wider. OK, yes, it's OK. And then Chad's fingertips push into my thighs again; I adjust my feet a bit further apart. BUT WHY THE FUCK AM I SPREADING MY FEET WIDER, PLACING MYSELF IN A MORE VULNERABLE POSITION?! WHO THE HELL IS HE TO POSITION ME AS HE WISHES?! WHAT THE FUCK IS HE DOING? WHAT THE FUCK AMI DOING? I don't know. All I can think about is getting my dick to shoot Master juice, but suddenly, my asshole feels good again. So, now he has his mouth around my dick, not sucking it, but now occasionally rubbing it with his tongue. Good, that's something. And his thumb and finger of each hand are tickling my balls. I can actually feel his fingernails tickling my balls. OK, OK, it feels terrific. BUT NOW HIS MIDDLE FINGERS, BOTH OF THEM, ARE REACHING BACK TO MY ASS AND poking around MY ASSHOLE. He's controlling my dick, my balls, and now my asshole. He does have large hands and long fingers. I did notice that. "Please ... " there was a soft whisper. One word. I heard it. I was wiggling my hips, and I heard it again, "Please." WHAT THE FUCK? How could Chad whisper, his mouth is fully anchored on my dick? In my mind, I am begging him to let me climax. We can edge more another time. But fucking ..., please, just let me cum now, PLEASE. I found myself begging my fucking faggot cunt pussie whore to please let me cum? Did I mumble that? I hope Rick didn't hear me. Chad was tickling my ass lips like he wanted me to let his fingers inside my asshole. I bent my knees to lower my ass half a foot and put myself in an awkward position with my feet wide apart, and now my knees bent to give him access to my hole. I was like a giant two-legged crab. Bingo! There it was. Now one, or was it two, middle fingers slipped inside my asshole. Fuck that's it. I grabbed his head and tried to force his face into my steel rod. But when I tried, Chad pulled his head back. So, I could still not get any fuck-action motion. His fingers went into my ass quite deep. It was like his handle to move my hips back and forth as he moved his head back and forth simultaneously, in unison. He would not stop to let me do what I wanted. Or ... was he already doing what I wanted? I let go of his hair. Fuck, I just wanted to fucking climax. I gave up. That was it. I quit trying to maneuver him. I just let go of all my effort. I let Chad have his way. THEN ... he began to slam his own face onto my dick. He slammed his own face on my rigid dick. He even started sucking me. With one hand, he grabbed my ball sack and pulled it down firmly, and with the other, he inserted several fingers deeply into my asshole and finger fucked me good. I was wiggling my hips, or so I thought. But then I realized he was wiggling my hips, and I was some passive nobody. I was his toy, for now. Chad used his hands - the one in my asshole and the other firmly gripping my balls - to pull my dick into his throat. I had no control over anything. With my dick fully lodged into his throat, he still pulled me harder, using my asshole and balls as a handle until... until... I blasted off like an epileptic crazy man. Jerking and twitching and flaying like someone in a head-to-toe, involuntary body spasm. Somewhere during my frenzied climax, Chad shot loads all over the place without ever touching it. Did he just derive intense pleasure at my relieving pleasure? To be continued... Fuck, now I'm really confused. Or... is it Chad who is confused? Oh, and do watch the video of Brock's last pussie boy, Thomas something, the high school class president. It's not a trick. As I said, to find it, log in to GayTies.com, click "Video Library," then click "filter," and then type in "Toilet Sub." Write your comments to me, Bruce Darkforce at [email protected]
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https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/small-town-slave-boys/small-town-slave-boys-13.html	Small Town Slave Boys Chapter 13 Small Town Slave Boys I welcome feedback from readers, in fact I thrive on it. It's really the only payment authors on NIFTY receive for their efforts. If you enjoy the story, please take a moment to drop me an email and let me know. Comments from my readers drive my creativity. This story is a reboot of the original Small Town Slave Boy story. This story will be found in the gay/authoritarian subcategory. It's tangentially connected to the College Magic Series, but there are no supernatural elements. Dylan Morgan is the son of a homophobic minister named Craig Morgan. He was one of four children in the Morgan household, not including their cousin Kieran who came to stay with the family when he lost his parents at the age of 12. This story tells of his life and how he became a slave to his best friend Kurt Groth. The plural Boys refers to the fact that Dylan's uncle Cory is also slave to Kurt's father Roger. This story is mostly told from Dylan's point of view, but occasionally the point of view shifts to another character. The text will always tell you when there has been a shift in POV. There will be scenes of dominance and submission, as well as some bondage and domination, and a little light masochism, but this is not a story of objectification, and it's not a one-sided story. It's a love story with D/s and BDSM elements. There will be some non-consensual scenes in later chapters, non-consensual in the sense that the main characters will choose to engage in some activities to avoid being outed too early, but the activities between the principal characters are consensual. For those who appreciate this kind of story read on; others be forewarned. This story is fantasy. In the real-world consent is not only important, but also sexy. Please remember that NIFTY is a free site that provides an invaluable resource for men like us. Please consider donating to help ensure that site remains available for everyone. https://donate.nifty.org/ You can contact me at [email protected]. Author's Notes ● If you want to be informed of new stories, send me an email, and ask to be put on the notification list. I'll send a notification. Everyone will be on the bcc line so your email address will not show to other members. NOTE THAT SOMETIMES GOOGLE WILL NOT ALLOW BULK EMAIL AND THAT SOMETIMES BULK EMAIL WILL END UP IN YOUR SPAM FOLDER OR TRASH. ● I have created a google group for people who want to get more information about my stories in that format. Only I can view the member list, so data should be secure. If a reader sends a question my way, I will post the answer to that group after removing any information about the reader. It's a good way to get more background information if you want. https://groups.google.com/g/pseudominius-stories ● While this storyline is designed to stand alone, you may have a better idea about some of the background if you read My Roommate the Alchemist and Alchemy and Songcraft, since Kieran Morgan is a character in both story lines. This story stands alone, however. When these characters interact with the characters in College Magic, the entire scene pertaining to this story will be included here. ● I hope my revision process has gotten better and there are fewer errors in this chapter. I am my own editor and sometimes I don't catch typos, missing word, and misattribution errors. I apologize if any are still slipping through. ● My editor is Robbear ([email protected]). He not only edited this story but provided a lot of insight and suggestions that made the story better. Links to My Stories College Magic Cycle ● My Roommate the Alchemist ● Wishcraft ● Alchemy and Songcraft ● Magery ● Elf Master ● The Pack ● Tales of Severan Other Stories � Small Town Slave Boys � Jack and the Giant � Sacred Submissives � Bellus Cinaedus � Guardian Angel � Eros in Arcadia � Nivean and the Dvergar � Desert Heat � Constituent Services � The Dancing Princes Small Town Slave Boys Chapter 13 Damian It was Labor Day morning. Steven and I were still in bed, in a hotel that was miles away from home. This had been the most relaxing weekend ever! I didn't have to worry about anyone I knew seeing me acting so gay. Hell! I wasn't acting. I'd finally felt free to be myself. We'd gone to a party at the house of Steven's friend from college and they'd just accepted that we were a couple. No one said a thing about it except for a few who thought we were "cute" together. I found it odd that that was the one thing they all said, like it was rehearsed or expected in some way. And we'd spent a day with me pretending to be his slave. I'd learned two things from that experience; that I really enjoyed it, and that I only enjoyed it because it was a game. There was no way that I wanted to live that way. I tucked that lesson away. I could allow myself to enjoy really kinky shit so long as it was a game. And it was okay to say, sure I'm down with that, so long as we're just playing around. And then Steven had insisted that I play the top and fuck him. I still preferred the feeling of Steven filling me up with his big cock, but I wasn't afraid of topping anymore. I'd done it and Steven had told me that I'd done it well. I knew that I could give him what he wanted when he wanted it. And he'd made it clear that he understood that most of the time I wanted it the other way around. I had to pee, so I tried to pull out of Steven's embrace without waking him. He tightened his arms and held me even tighter. I couldn't possibly get up without waking him. I chuckled quietly to myself. Steven always claimed that he wasn't a dom like his brother and his dad, but he was. He didn't seem to need the slave play, but he liked being in charge. It was a good thing I liked him being in charge. I nudged him gently in the ribs. "Steve, wake up, I need to go to the bathroom." He squeezed me tighter, making me squeal, "Let me go before I make a mess all over us both." Steve gave me a kiss and then let me go. "We don't want that." He smacked my butt as I jumped out of bed, then he got out and followed me. While I was peeing in the toilet, he laid out our toiletries. "Brush teeth first, then a good douching, brush hair, get dressed, breakfast downstairs in the lobby and then back up to the room." I gave him a laugh and said, "You're bossy this morning." He moved over behind me and wrapped one arm around my chest. He used the other to rub my belly while he kissed my neck. "You like it when I'm bossy. When we get back up here, I'm going to fuck you until you scream and then you're going to do me like a proper little versatile stud. After that, we need to check out and drive back home so there's time for you to finish that Spanish homework you told me you haven't done yet." I leaned back against his chest and replied, "I do like it when you get all macho on me and just take charge." We stood side by side and brushed our teeth and shaved. And then we douched our butts. It was a much more sensual process to have a lover help you than it was to do it on your own. I wanted Steven to throw me on the bed and take me as soon as we were done, but Steven said it was better to give it a little while so that the butt could naturally remoisturize a little before jumping in. The hotel we were at had a breakfast bar that wasn't too bad. We ate our eggs, bacon and toast; and we held hands during breakfast, not caring who saw us. It was a bittersweet moment because we would soon be back home and we couldn't let anyone see us showing even this little bit of intimacy until I turned eighteen. Luckily it was only a few more weeks. Steven This weekend with Damian had been a very positive experience. I helped him try out some fantasies of his and I'd taught him to top. I didn't mind doing the topping most of the time, but there were times I needed to feel a cock up my ass. No matter how handsome Damian was, no matter how smart and funny he was, no matter how much I loved getting inside his firm round ass, it couldn't have worked out between us if he weren't willing to return the favor now and then. As soon as we got back into the room, I pushed Damian to the bed and climbed on top of him. We'd both worn sweats and a tee-shirt to breakfast. It didn't take long to strip out of them so we could make out naked on the bed. I was tired of being careful not to leave the slightest mark on my boy. I wanted a more vigorous make-out session and I wanted to leave my mark on him, but I had to restrain myself. I had no idea why I felt compelled to mark him as mine, but I did. That was definitely something I'd have to ask Dad about. And Damian was just as passionate. He didn't worry about marking me. He bit down on my neck and scraped his nails down my back, sending thrills of pleasure running along my spine. They weren't long, but Damian was a careful groomer. I had no idea that normal, well-trimmed nails could feel so good on my body. I moved my right hand down to gently stroke his bottom, causing him to squirm sexily beneath me. But when my index finger brushed against his hole, he pulled back. "What's wrong, handsome?" I asked him. He clenched his teeth and looked down guiltily. "I... um... could we maybe... do something else?" He didn't wait for my response, he immediately added, "I love it when you fuck me, Steven. You're like a sex god and you know how to hit all my good spots, every time. But... you've fucked me a lot this weekend and I'm thinking about that almost three hour drive we have ahead of us." Still no pause. He rambled on. "Oh, forget it. Do me hard and I'll just..." I put three fingers to his lips to make him stop talking. "Shh. You'll get what you want. I don't want you to ever think that you can't tell me what you want. We're in this together and I just didn't think about it. I've made love to you four times this weekend alone." "Made love?" Damian asked with a broad grin on his face. "Well, I didn't want to say "fuck" so I went in the other direction. A bit too far maybe... taken?" "Ohmygodno... anyway, you were saying...?" He took my hand in his and kissed my fingertips. "I don't want you to think I don't love it because I do. I wish I could ride your cock all day, stud, but..." He moved his other hand down to my hard cock and stroked it. "...you have a bigger dick than me, bigger than any I've seen except for your brother Kurt." "I'm only a little above average, sweetie. My dad's bigger than me, just not as big as Kurt." Damian slapped me playfully. "Well I am not very likely to be seeing that one and yours is almost too much for me." I kissed his shapely lips and then teased him. "Have you tried not being such a tight ass?" "I don't think you'd be too happy if I weren't. You're always telling me how much you love my tight ass." "Your tight sexy ass is what I said. Now I'm going to kiss it to make it better before we go back to third base." I moved down and lifted his legs and pressed them back against his chest. "You are a little red and puffy back here, baby. I'm sorry." "Don't be. You would have noticed and taken care of me properly. You're just sweet that way." He winked his pretty hole at me, making my cock twitch. I inhaled sharply. "You give me too much credit. I'd like to think I'd be that careful, but I don't always think straight when my dick is hard." I was holding his thighs against his chest and he put his hands on mine. "I hope you're never thinking straight when you're looking at my asshole, stud." I didn't respond. I just kissed his taint and then worked my way down to his sexy boy hole. I teased his puffy lips with my tongue and then rubbed it gently. He moaned deeply and said, "Oh God damn that feels so good. I want to tell you to forget it and just fuck me hard." I kissed him some more and then grabbed my toiletry bag and pulled out a small jar of Balmex. "I'm going to put a cream on your hole to soothe it." I spread it liberally on the ring of his hole and then closed the jar. "You'll take this with you when you go, but don't let your parents see it. They may not know why we're using it, but they may wonder why you have diaper rash ointment in your toiletries." I moved next to Damian and wrapped my arms around him. We began kissing vigorously, our hands running along each other's body. "First base," I said. Then I tweaked his nipples. "And second base." Finally, I took hold of his erect cock. "And third base." He took hold of my cock and started stroking me slowly. "You won't mind missing the home run?" I applied firm pressure to his shaft while stroking him in return. "Third base with you is as good as a home run with anyone else." He started laughing. "Do you mean I could have kept you happily tied down and still saved myself? I could have worn white on my wedding day?" He stopped and swallowed hard. I knew what he was doing. He thought he'd gone too far. When we'd first started seeing one another, I was the one who froze every time he got too close emotionally. I kissed him again and said, "I always thought you'd look best in blue, maybe the same color as your eyes, with a pink shirt. You could have all your bottom boy attendants dress the same. And... just assuming it was me standing up there with you, I'd be in maroon and gold, and so would my groomsmen." He got into the spirit. "I was imagining Kurt as your best man, and that would make Dylan my twink of honor." "It's an interesting thought, but let's not get ahead of ourselves," I said, but then added, "And since you're wearing my class ring around your neck, I suppose it's okay to talk about it." But I had to admit to myself that I didn't want to talk about it. The subject made me a little uncomfortable. And I didn't want Damian to see that discomfort because I knew it would upset him, making him think I wasn't actually that interested in him. But I was, I knew that for sure, I just had unfinished business with Kieran Morgan, and... why did the subject of marriage make me uncomfortable? Was it because Dad and Cory weren't married? Was it because I was still nineteen? That was young, but everyone always told me that I was an old man in a young man's body. I'd never been rambunctious and silly like Kurt and his friends could be. I'd never even been in trouble in school. If anyone was mature enough, at nineteen, to be thinking about these things, it was me. Did I love Damian? I liked him a lot. I enjoyed being with him even when we weren't having sex. And we had a lot in common. But love was a big emotion and, historically, I had stayed well away from those. I had a lot to figure out. Both of us avoided talking after that. We kissed and fondled each other until our passion reached the point of no return. I was relieved that the moment hadn't been a mood killer. I came first, my seed shooting all over his hand and both our abdomens. One shot landed all the way up between my pecs. Damian wasn't far behind me. His spunk covered my hand, so I lifted it to my mouth and licked it off. He did the same with his, but his eyes seemed a little distant. "Is everything alright?" I asked. He sighed. "Is it? I should ask you. I didn't ruin anything by mentioning a wedding, did I? It's just that you usually get so prickly when I get serious about our relationship." "Not anymore," I said. "I'm all in on this relationship now. It's just that you gave me a lot to think about. And that's a process I am not good at sharing. But I am working on it. Your words gave me a shock, that's all. If you're proposing..." He jumped up and shook his finger in my direction. "...hold it right there! I proposed nothing. If we ever decide to go further, you're going to do it right, with a ring and you'll get down on your knees." I jumped up and put my hands on his shoulders. "Should I ask your father's permission first?" Finally, I made him laugh. "Wait until I come out to him first. Although... that could be an interesting way to do it. You can ask him for my hand in marriage. He'll say, `but Damian's not gay', and you can break the news to him. He likes you a lot. I think he'd love to have you as a son-in-law!" "If he didn't pull one of his shotguns just to hunt my black ass. I could easily see him running me off his property to protect your virtue." Damian was still smiling broadly, and his eyes were twinkling. "Or maybe he'll pull out a shotgun and make you marry me once he knows you've stolen my virginity." We kissed and laughed our way into the shower where we cleaned up for the long drive home. Michael Wilder I was at dad's house when they pulled up. Brian and I had come over to fix one of the gutters on the old place. Dad was too old, and he was as likely to climb up on a ladder and do it himself before he paid someone to do it. We were at the side of the house and I guess they didn't see us. When Damian was pulling his bags out the back of the SUV, Steven Groth let his hand rest a little longer than was usual on our baby brother's butt. And then he patted it once before taking the other bag. Brian leaned down and smiled. "You owe me a twenty. I knew those boys were fucking." I laughed softly. "Damian hates the auto races. Do you think Dad suspects?" Brian shook his head. "I doubt it. Damian is the baby. Mom and Dad never think anything bad about him." I sighed. "That's for sure. It will probably break their hearts." "Don't be too sure," Brian said. "Dad knew some gays back when he was working construction. He never seemed to be prejudiced when he told me about them, and mom's aunt Violet lived with her "best friend" Ruth until she died." "But he's their baby boy," I countered. Brian gave me a look and asked, "Does it bother you?" I shook my head. "He's my baby brother. I'll stand by him no matter what. And you?" "Bro! I'm the one who bet you that those two were fucking. I've always thought Damian was a little gay. The real question is what about Ellie and Aaron? They're much more conservative than we are." There were five of us. Ellie was the oldest at thirty-two. She was married and lived in Evansville with her police officer husband. Aaron was thirty and he was employed at the same construction outfit Dad used to work for. He was married to his high school sweetheart, and they lived across town. I was twenty-six, and I taught algebra at the local high school where Damian went. Brian was twenty-three and he worked as a mechanic at Groth automotive. Mom was only fifty-two, but dad was sixty-eight. No matter what Brian thought, I worried about their reaction. They were dedicated church goers. But then again, everyone suspected Father Francis, the assistant priest, was gay. Maybe they'd handle it better than I feared. "How do you think Steven's dad will take it? Isn't he some sort of council member at that church they go to?" I tried to avoid allowing my mother's sneer to creep into my voice when I referred to any church other than the holy apostolic catholic church we Wilders attended, but I wasn't successful. Brian laughed aloud, attracting the attention of the boys before he caught himself. We waved at them and Brian said, "The worst kept secret at Groth Automotive is that Mr. Roger Groth is fucking his assistant, a very pretty little blond guy the same age as Aaron." Dylan I was still embarrassed at being reprimanded by Mr. Groth yesterday. And I was incredibly horny. I hadn't been allowed to cum since the reprimand. And then Kurt had punished me - and that always made me horny. It was the big Labor Day weekend, and the dealership was busy. There was a band, a local radio personality and a contest for prospective customers to see if they won a gift. Everyone got a Groth Automotive keychain, but there were other prizes as well. And an elderly couple were delighted to have won a new car. That was the grand prize. I was sure that Mr. Groth would lose money considering the huge giveaway, but I was wrong. People came from as far away as Evansville and Louisville, Kentucky. More than a thousand people came by and so many cars were sold that those of us in the office didn't get a break. I skipped lunch, which I knew was going to make Kurt angry, but there was too much paperwork to process. Most of the sales were used cars, which I couldn't believe at first. But Kurt stopped by and tipped me off in passing that a bigger chunk of the profits came from used cars than new, and that even more came from the service department. I didn't know at the time that the manufacturer had provided most of the prizes, including the grand prize. It was part of a nationwide sale. The same sale was going on in both Evansville and Louisville but the taxes were lower outside the city. When I finally got a chance to take a breather, it was 3:00 p.m. and I sat down on one of the stools behind the counter. Barb came up to me and shoved a plastic tumbler in my hands. "I don't know what it is you usually eat, but this is one of my diet shakes. It's only 190 calories, although I don't know why you're dieting. You're more than thin enough to my mind and I know you haven't eaten a bite. Now drink it up while I stand here and watch you." I took a look at it and then chugged the whole thing. The smoothies Kurt made me drink had 400 calories, but this would probably tide me over. "Thank you, Barb. You take care of me like a mother." She gave me a kiss on the forehead, followed by a caring frown. Then she heaved a sigh and said, "Well, somebody has to do it." I wondered if she was referring to my Uncle Cory, but that didn't seem likely. She mothered Cory almost as much as she mothered me. I wondered just how much about my homelife she knew. I wouldn't be surprised if she knew a lot. There didn't seem to be much going on around here that she didn't know. When I finished, Cory came by and said, "You should go take a break for half an hour. We've worked you too hard at your age without a rest. Mr. Groth says you can use the boss's office, but just until 3:30." I was almost bouncing on my feet when I ran off. And sure enough, Kurt was waiting for me. "Lock the door," he said, "and take your clothes off. We don't have much time." I flipped the lock and then quickly took off my clothes. Kurt threw a couple of extra large towels on the euro lounger before shucking his own clothes. I moved forward and knelt before him in proper slave position with my back straight, my knees spread, and my hands locked behind my neck. Kurt smiled down on me and tapped my hard cocklet with his foot. His hard cock stood straight out from his groin despite its width and length. He was standing close enough that it was brushing my lips. "Can I please suck your cock, Master?" "Suck it, Slave Boy. Show your master how much you love to worship his cock." I leaned forward and put my lips around the head. He tasted of sweat and just a little funk from leaking in his underwear all day. It was salty, musty and a little tangy. It may not sound appetizing to most people, but there was almost nothing in the world I liked better than the taste of my master's dick, especially when it had been soaking his sweat all day. The thing about my master's cock was that it was almost too big. I could barely fit it in my mouth. I covered my teeth with my lips and sucked as hard as I could. I could barely wiggle my tongue under the shaft. "Damn your mouth feels amazing, Dylan, but we don't have a lot of time." He pulled out a condom and tore the packaging. "Put it on me so we can do this." I pulled the condom out and fumbled with it for a moment. I'd never done this before, but I'd seen Kurt do it. I pulled his foreskin back and then rolled the condom over his cock. I looked up at him and said, "It isn't big enough, Master." He laughed and rubbed my head. "That's the biggest size they sell, about nine inches. It's long enough. I just won't be able to get that last inch inside." He held out his hand and helped me to my feet. Then he surprised me by picking me up and dropping me gently on the euro lounger. He reached for the lube and began rubbing it onto my hole. "Thinking of you, and not being able to touch you like this, has been driving me crazy. I kept seeing you over there, behind the counter, every time I came in to get another set of keys. And it was all I could do not to come over here and grab your ass and drag you into this room." His fingers were running around the outside of my hole, making it hard for me to concentrate on anything else. "Oh, fuck me, Master! I need you inside me." I looked up into my master's face and again I was struck by just how lucky I was. In my mind, Kurt was the most handsome man alive. His black hair was shaved on the sides, but he'd started letting it grow out in bushy ringlets. His skin was almost exactly the shade of dark brown sugar, and he had the most masculine features I'd ever seen on a teenager. His lips were full. They looked soft, but I knew from experience that they were strong and firm. His nose was a little broad at the tip with a prominent bridge. His eyes were a deep, dark brown that seemed to draw me inside their depths. And his jawline was almost heroic, with a squared chin and firm lines that ran all the way up to his prominent cheekbones. He looked a little like a brown version of his dad in that respect. I was staring at my master with such a look of adoration that it made his face split into a grin. His strong index finger pushed inside me and started lubing my hole on the inside. I was so glad that I'd gotten into the habit of giving myself a quick douche when I went to the bathroom. Kurt never complained, so whenever we didn't have time for a proper cleaning, he would use a condom purely for hygiene reasons., However, I was determined to be as ready as possible for him whenever he wanted me. I wondered what people thought about me taking my backpack to the bathroom every time I went. Maser said, "You're a very pretty slave boy. When I see you lying here, with your pale skin, your blue eyes and that hair of yours, golden yellow with just a hint of red, it reminds me that I made the right decision claiming you. You're a natural submissive, Dylan, a boy who needs a man to take charge and make you his. And you belong to me. Every inch of your body is mine and that thought thrills me more than you could ever know." I pushed back against his finger with my butt, like I was trying to get his whole hand inside my ass. A shiver ran through my body at that thought, and my cocklet jumped and oozed a thin stream of precum. Kurt saw it and his smile broadened even further. He slapped my thigh just hard enough for me to feel it sting. (He knew what I liked). "Pull your knees up and hold them, slave boy." "Yes, Master!" I replied, hurrying to comply. Kurt ran one finger of his left hand down my little erection while he worked a second finger of his right hand alongside his index finger. He thrust both of them deep inside me and began fucking me with them. He was careful not to stroke my prostate, not because of meanness, but because he didn't want me to cum yet. "Do you know what I love about your penis, slave boy?" he asked. "It's half the size of yours, Master." "Not quite," he replied. It was true that he was either just under or just over ten inches depending how I measured it, what time of day I measured it, and how long it had been since he'd last cum. I'd been honestly surprised to find out how much variation there was in the size of the same penis. Weirdly, I'd never noticed the variation in my own dick. Maybe you don't notice it in your own, and maybe (probably) I was a lot more focused on Kurt's than on mine. Kurt thumped his larger penis against my four inches. "My cock is two and half times as long as your little cocklet, and it's also about two and half times thicker and wider. In three dimensions that's two and half, cubed, which works out to about... fifteen and five eighths. Let's call it fifteen and half times as big as yours." Kurt knew that talk like this turned me on, and I suspected that it turned him on just as much. I loved the idea that I was inferior to him in the dick department. And while his muscles and big cock were amazing, I had always been even more aroused by his mind. He was smarter than me. He said that wasn't true, but I knew that it was, and I loved the idea that this handsome, physically powerful and super smart guy had claimed me as his own. "That's why you're the master and I'm the slave, Master!" He shoved a third finger inside me, making me cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure from the sudden change. "That's right, Slave Boy. Don't ever forget it." He pulled his fingers out and pushed the head of his enormous cock inside my ring. It was smaller than his three fingers had been at the knuckles, but it hurt like hell going in. Kurt's eyes shifted back and forth between my eyes and my hard little cocklet that was leaking copiously. Even when he acted cruel, I knew that he was constantly monitoring me to make sure that he wasn't pushing me too far. I wanted to cry out for him to do it harder, that I could take it, that I craved it, but I was afraid that doing so would count as asking him for sex. Part of his dominance over me was that I had to wait and accept what he gave me. Honestly, I was afraid of pushing him so far that we went beyond what he was comfortable with. Sometimes I wondered if I was alright in the head. Kurt was my ideal lover. I'd been in love with him from the first time he'd sat next to me and helped me out in school, before I even understood what I was feeling for him. He went out of his way to satisfy my need to be dominated and punished, but in my mind, I kept imagining more. I kept picturing him striking me with a cane, or with a whip. I imagined him shoving his entire cock down my throat so that I couldn't even breathe, and I imagined him chaining me down to a bench and branding my ass with his name so that everyone who saw it would know that I belonged to him. "Do you want it harder, slave boy?" "Yes! Please fuck me hard, Master!" I begged. Kurt grinned and slammed his king-sized cock inside me. I arched my back and moaned. The moan turned into a gasp as his cock forced itself past my rectum and into my colon, making me feel like I'd been impaled on a mighty pole of firm flesh. I couldn't think clearly enough to form words. Rambling nonsense poured out of my mouth as my attention narrowed to that one part of my body. It was like my entire existence was focused just on my ass and my master's amazing cock that was not only filling me completely, but connecting the two of us into one, like my body was just an appendage of his. My skin was hot and tingling. Even the hairs on my head were standing up. Each thrust of his body sent another powerful wave of overwhelming pleasure through me. The size of his cock brought pain as well, but my body accepted that sensation and wove it into the pleasure I was feeling, using it to amplify the ecstasy. I knew I was crying and I knew Kurt was saying something, but I couldn't understand words. My brain was operating on a more primal level. And on that level we connected mentally as well as physically. Almost one being instead of two individuals. This was better than I imagined any drug could be! Every thrust of his mighty cock pressed firmly against my prostate, sending another stream of... precum, cum, whatever, shooting out of me. I was sure that I felt every swell and pulse in his cock. My normal senses didn't return until Kurt collapsed on top of me, his body pressed against mine, forcing my thighs to splay wide apart to accommodate his heroic build. As he continued his thrusts, I could feel his seed pumping deep inside me, spurt after powerful spurt. His arms moved under my back so that his hands could grip my shoulders from behind and he kissed me with those firm yet pillowy lips. His tongue thrust inside my mouth and he buried his cock deep, deep inside me and held it there. We lay there for just a minute or so until Kurt rolled us over so that I was on top of him. It was a lot easier for me to breathe that way. He brushed my sweaty hair out of my eyes and kissed my forehead. "I thought I'd lost you there for a few minutes. It was like you were completely zoned out," he said. I nodded. "You did, Master. I think you fucked me into some new different level of consciousness, like those videos on yoga and meditation Steven keeps adding to my Google Drive. Meditation never got me there, but I think you may have pushed me into a higher state of being with your magic cock." I could feel his heart beating in his chest. Mine was beating even faster. I still felt like we were connected. His cock was still lodged in my ass and it was slowly deflating. But, it was more than that. It was as if we were breathing in unison, like my heart rate was slowing to match his own. "Did you say magic cock?" Kurt asked. "Mm-hm. I mean, Yes Master. I did." He chuckled. "I think I like `magic cock' better than `mutant monster cock'. You're better with words than Steven." "If he'd ever been fucked by your magic cock, he'd know what I was talking about, Master." Kurt ran one hand absentmindedly up and down my back, while the other played with my hair. "I know your dad won't approve, but let's see if you can avoid getting a haircut. I like the way it looks on you and I think I'd like it even more if it grew longer. It would make you look less manly but a lot prettier." "Would you like it if I were more girly, Master?" He shook his head. "Not girly, just more... gay. I think when we're both out, I want you to let your inner fag out more." I nodded. "Yes Master, like Damian does when there's no one else around." "What do you mean?" he asked. "Haven't you ever noticed, Master? When we're at school, Damian acts like a total jock, not too different from the way you and Greg act, maybe a little gayer, but not so much that anyone who didn't know would see it. But when he's over at your house, around just us, his voice changes and his mannerisms change. No one could fail to see that he was gay. I'm like that all the time. It's why I'm usually quiet and don't say anything. But if you want me to, I'll stop hiding. I'll just be me and let everyone see me for the total fag I am." He shook his head and said, "No. I mean yes, I do want that once you're out, but no, I don't think I like that word even in play. Let's just say that I want everyone to see you for the total gay boy you are. I don't want to hear you use that f-word again, and I'll try not to as well." I kissed his broad, muscular chest. "Isn't it supposed to be about reclaiming the word, so it has no power, Master?" "Yeah, it is, but I still don't like it. I don't use the n-word that way either, even though some of my favorite musicians do. When I hear that one, I want to punch someone in the face and I think I feel the same way about the f-word." "People say the n-word all the time at school when they think no teachers can hear them. You've never punched anyone in the face, Master." "No. I haven't, but I've thought about it." Steven From the look on Brian's face, I knew he had to have seen something. I shouldn't have been so obvious in patting Damian's butt right there on the street. I hoped I hadn't inadvertently outed him in front of his brothers. I didn't mention it to Damian. I just grabbed one of his bags and helped him inside the house. Mrs. Wilder had come to the living room when she heard the door. She was tall for a woman, but had always seemed small to me. I didn't really know Ellie or Aaron, the two oldest siblings, but Damian was the runt of the guys at just under six feet tall. Mr. Wilder was six foot two, as was Michael � also Mr. Wilder, as I had known him as my freshman math teacher. Brian worked in the service department at Groth Automotive and I knew that he was less than an inch shorter than me. Mrs. Wilder was wearing a comfortable looking blue dress and a white apron. She'd always reminded me of an old-time housewife from the television. She was a little plump and always seemed to have a spot or two of flour on her somewhere from the constant baking. I could smell cinnamon and I knew that she must have been making cookies. She pulled Damian down just a couple of inches so she could give him a kiss. "Welcome back, son. I hope you had a nice trip." Then she waved me over and pulled me down so she could kiss my cheek as well. "And you, too, Bean Sprout. I hope Damian didn't give you any trouble. Can you stay for dinner?" She'd called me that from the first time she'd heard her husband call me "shorty". I looked at Damian and he gave me a smile and a nod, so I agreed. "Sure thing, Mrs. Wilder. My dad and brother will be busy at the dealership until later, selling cars past closing time, so long as there are any customers left." "Glad to hear it," she replied with a smile. "Now take the bags upstairs and come on down to the kitchen so you can have snickerdoodles and... you're not too big for a glass of milk are you?" I shook my head and told her milk would be just fine. Then I helped Damian up to his room. "My mom is really..." "If you say anything bad about that woman, I am going to give you that spanking your dad told me to give you." He laughed. "Not bad. Nothing bad about my mom, just that she still treats me like a kid and I wasn't sure how you liked her babying you, since you lost your own mother when you were younger." "You know? I don't really remember my mother that well. I was just seven when she died, so I kind of like it." I helped Damian unpack his suitcases and we made sure that there were no bottles of lube that Mrs. Wilder could accidentally stumble on. Then we went back down to the kitchen where she'd put out plates with cookies and tall glasses of milk. Damian's plate had two cookies and mine had three. "You're a big boy, Bean Sprout," she said. Damian rolled his eyes when his mother was looking away and stole the extra cookie off my plate and shoved it in his mouth. I gave him a stern look that was undermined by a smile. Mrs. Wilder's cookies were always good, but none of us Groth men were much into sweets and Damian had a sweet tooth that wouldn't be satisfied. I looked around and didn't see anyone watching, so I risked a brief touch of my hand on his. We finished our cookies and milk and then Damian put the dishes in the dishwasher while his mother was checking on a brisket she had in the electric roaster. We thanked her and then headed for the living room. We were just about to put something on the television when Michael and Brian came in. We were sitting close on the sofa, but not suspiciously so. "If you two aren't too tired from a weekend at the races, we need you to come help us with the cleanup," Brian announced. "Sure thing," I replied, getting up quickly. Outside, Michael had Damian help him grab the tub full of gunk from the gutter and carry it back to the compost bin. Brian and I grabbed the old gutters and carried them out to his truck. We wrestled them into the bed and then Brian grabbed my arm. He looked me in the eye, and he demanded, "What are your intentions toward my baby brother?" "What...?" I stammered. "I don't know what you mean..." He gave a throaty laugh and said, "Sure you do. Spill it." My heart was hammering. I wasn't much taller than him and he was much broader through the shoulders. He was built more like my brother Kurt, but my height. Anyway, I didn't want to fight him. He was my boyfriend's brother. I had no idea what to say. Brian gave me a smile that wasn't exactly friendly but wasn't overtly hostile. "I know what you're doing with him. I just want to know what your intentions are." "Well... um... we're kind of seeing each other right now," I managed to get out. Brian gave a heavy sigh. "If you were just `seeing' each other, you wouldn't have needed a weekend away in another town. The two of you are fucking." I nodded slowly, a cold chill running up my spine. A sense of fear was spreading across my body. We lived in Indiana. I was an adult at nineteen and Damian was still legally a child for another six weeks. "Yeah. We are." "And your intentions?" "I really like him. I... I gave him my class ring. He has it on right now. When he goes to college, we're thinking about the same school, IUPUI. We were checking out the campus while we were at Indianapolis." He snorted. "So, you're serious about him?" I nodded. "Yes." He clapped my shoulder firmly. "Good then. It'll remain our secret for now. If I were to find out you were just using him for a thrill, or if you were to hurt him, we'd be having a different conversation. You know that don't you?" "I would never hurt him. I just didn't imagine that you'd be okay with... you know." Brian gave a more friendly laugh. "I think I've always known that Damian was gay, but he's my baby brother. I don't want just anyone putting their hands on him." "Do I pass muster then?" I asked. He nodded. "You're older than him, but not by so much as it seems. He's a senior and you graduated last year. He turns eighteen in six weeks; you turned nineteen three months ago. As far as I can tell, you're a nice guy and you seem to really care about him." "I do. I care about him greatly and I think he may be the one for me. I wish I could say it for certain, but I believe it may be true." Brian nodded. "I get it. You're still young and so is he. It shows a lot of responsibility that you're willing to be open to these feelings but that you're not so caught up in the moment that you're jumping into it blindly." I wished I could leave it there, but there was something I had to know. "How do you think your parents will take it? And Michael?" "Let's not tell Mom and Dad just yet. Let me work with Damian on the issue. It would be better if they knew he was gay before knowing that the two of you have been having sex. As for Michael, he already knows. And I bet that he's giving Damian the third degree right now." Damian There was something off about Michael while we were carrying the tub full of gutter gunk. He was more Mr. Wilder, my old algebra teacher, than the older brother who'd given me my first swimming lesson. We dumped the gunk in the compost bin and hosed out the tub. We'd just put everything back in the shed when Michael put his hand on my shoulder. "Is Steven Groth making you do anything you don't want to do?" I froze. My blood ran cold in my veins. My first thought was about Steven. Was I careless? Was he going to be arrested? The phrase `statutory rape' kept running around my mind? I started hyperventilating, but I got control of myself. There was no use trying to lie. I wouldn't be able to deceive him. "NO! God, no, Michael. I chased him. My god, I almost jumped him in the locker room. He's... please don't say anything to anyone. He's... he's the one for me. I love him and I want to be with him forever. I loved him when he was still mooning over Kieran Morgan last year. I even loved him when I was a freshman, and he was a sophomore who had no time for kids." Michael wrapped me in arms and hugged me tight. "It sounds like you're sure, but... are you two having sex?" I nodded. "We are, but we love each other." "I believe you love him, but are you sure that he loves you? First love can always feel like the biggest and most intense love possible. It can feel more important than anything else in the world. What you're experiencing is first love, new love. It's okay for you to enjoy it, but I want you to know that you can come to me for advice. I can help you through the emotional turmoil and help you take a step back to look at the facts when you need to." "Yes. Okay. I mean, thank you. Really. But he is the best, the sweetest... he does everything he can to make me happy." "Okay, okay. Calm down," he said. "I'm not going to get in your way and I'm not going to cause trouble so long as he's good to you. But, are you taking precautions? Are you having safe sex?" I looked up into his eyes and said, "No, but I can't get pregnant and we're monogamous. We're safe." Michael led me back to the house with one arm around my shoulder. I was able to breathe comfortably again. I was out to one of my brothers and it felt like a tremendous weight had been lifted from my shoulders. It was just the first step, but it felt like a milestone. We enjoyed one of Mom's delicious briskets with homemade noodles and green beans from the garden. She'd also made homemade bread and apple pie. My mom was a great cook and it was a delicious dinner. Stephanie and Leanne, Michael and Brian's wives, came over to join us. Everyone was warm with Steven so it was kind of like a family with mom and dad, three of their kids and their spouses. I didn't think that anyone but Michael suspected that we were the fourth couple on this quadruple date. Steven and I were seated next to each other and every so often he would press his leg against mine, not obviously enough that anyone would notice, but it felt nice. After dinner, Michael and Brian led Steven and me down to the basement to play pool. Dad joined us for a little while, but then went up to watch a baseball game on television. When we were alone, Michael and Brian both turned to look at Steven. It was Michael who spoke first. "Brian and I have had a chance to talk. And we want to let you know that we have no intention of getting between you and Damian, but you're no longer a kid. You're an adult. If you don't treat him right, we're honor bound to beat the crap out of you." Brian chimed in, "It's not that we think you're up to no good, but we're laying it all out on the line for you. Damian is the baby of the family. He may be our brother, but we're letting you know that it's no different than if he were our little sister. Treat him right." Then Michael grabbed three cans of Sun King Outfield lager from the refrigerator and opened them. He handed one to Brian and one to Steven. He smiled in my direction. "No beer for you, baby brother. We're having a drink to seal the deal with your boyfriend." I didn't remind them that Steven was underage too. They were driving home a point about my own legal status. Steven took the beer. I knew that he occasionally had a beer at home with his dad, but he didn't normally drink outside the home. I didn't much like that my brothers were pushing him outside his comfort zone. They all took a drink. Then Steven wrapped his arm around my shoulder and held the can of beer to my lips. I was at a decision point. My brothers had made a point of me being too young to have a beer, but Steven wanted me to take a drink. I made the only choice I could. I took a drink, but Steven pulled the can away before I could drink too much. He looked at my brothers and raised the can. "You keep saying that Damian is a kid, but I don't see a kid when I look at him. I see a young man who's ready to sample life's pleasures, and I want you to know that I'm here to make sure that he doesn't overindulge or go too far. You want me to take care of him? I will." He took a big sip and then handed the can back to me. Now I was on the spot. I took little dainty sips to show that I could be an obedient boy. We finished the beer that way, sharing it, a big swig for him followed by a dainty sip for me. Brian broke out laughing and punched Michael on the arm. "This guy is too cool for you to break, Mike." "Cool as cucumber," Michael replied. Then he leaned across the pool table and shook Steven's hand. "I'm going to trust you, guy � until you show me I can't." "I won't let you down, but I want you to know that I am in charge. I'm making the decisions for both of us. It's been working so far. Until I got a little too playful, no one had even suspected anything was up." Brian looked in my direction. "And you're okay with that?" I nodded excitedly. "I wouldn't have it any other way." "Are you sure?" "Yeah. Steven is more careful about what I do than I am. He's really mature for his age." I took hold of his arm and held it tight. "And he never makes any decision without taking my own wants and needs into consideration. The fact is that I trust him more than I trust myself." Dylan We didn't close the dealership until 9:00 p.m. That's when the last customer had left. Mr. Groth had purchased several three foot sub sandwiches for the staff as most of us hadn't had a chance to eat much during the day. Cory saw me picking at mine, so he came over and made me eat it. And then he pulled the meat and cheese off another piece and made me eat that as well. When Kurt drove me home, I was exhausted but happy. I'd worked thirteen hours and Kurt had given me the best orgasm of my life so far. We pulled over in a shady area of a parking lot not too far away from my street and Kurt kissed me. "I can't do that in front of your house. I just wish that we had time for some good night sex, but you are already past the curfew your mom gave you." I leaned my head on his shoulder and said, "I know, Master. I texted that I would be late because the dealership didn't close on time, but she won't be happy if I'm later than I have to be." "December 18th," Kurt said. "My birthday, Master?" "Yes. On your birthday at 12:00 a.m. I am coming over to get you. You'll have already moved as much of your stuff into your new home as we can get away with, but then I'll come get you, kiss you in the goddamned living room, throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of that place. You'll move in with us, and everything will be fine from then on." "I can't wait, Master," I replied with enthusiasm. The dark part of my soul kept telling me that something would go wrong. Something always went wrong, just like it had when I'd almost made friends with Kieran, just like when it looked like mom was starting to care and she got cold and distant the next day. We pulled up in front of the house. Only the living room light was visible from the street. Mom and Dad's bedroom and Mom's sewing room were both dark. I grabbed my bag and headed up the walk. The door was still unlocked. I'd barely gotten inside the house when Tommy came down the stairs with a grin on his face. "Welcome home, faggot. Mom and Dad are both asleep. Dad's in the bedroom, zonked out on sleeping pills, and Mom's in her `sewing room', drunk as a skunk! So, no one's going to hear you if I have to slap you around a little. But I'm not going to have to do that, am I, because you're going to be a good little fag and do what I tell you to do, aren't you." I sighed. "I'm really tired. I worked thirteen hours today without much of a break." Tommy slapped me in the face. Then he slapped me again. "Don't even start with me, fag. Get your clothes off and get on your knees. I haven't had a blowjob since you went over to the Groth's and I'm not jacking off anymore." My cheek was stinging, and tears were coming to my eyes. Tommy was two years younger than me, but he was also bigger than me. Dad wouldn't save me. He hated me. Mom probably would, but I doubted she would believe me unless she came down here and saw it for herself. And she was drunk, again. I'd left my work clothes in Mr. Groth's office, and I was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. It was easy to get them off, but I'd forgotten that I was wearing a pair of fancy underwear that left my butt exposed in the back. I'd planned to take them off and hide them in my bag until tomorrow. Then I could drop them off at the office with my work clothes so that Uncle Cory could wash them. "What the fuck are you wearing, fag?" Tommy said. "Your ass is hanging out." "They're just underwear. I bought them online because... well I thought they were sexy." "Did you order them from some fag website? Dude, you look ready to get fucked." I nodded. "It was a fag website. I bought them there because I'm a fag. Are you happy?" He smacked my ass hard. "That's for getting lippy." Then he counted on his fingers and smacked me three more times. "And that's for the three times you forgot to call me `sir'. Now bend over and show me your fag pussy." I bent over and my brother ran his fingers along my crack. "What the hell, fag. Your ass is slippery. Has someone been fucking you?" "No, sir. It was just... you, being a fag and playing with my butt." I couldn't think of anything else to say that wouldn't incriminate Kurt. He pushed a finger inside me, and I jumped. I was still just a little sore from the rough fucking Kurt had given me earlier. He wiggled it around a little and then added a second finger. "Do you know what I think, fag?" "No, sir." I was sure that I didn't want to know what he was thinking. He thrust his fingers in and out rapidly. "I think you wore these assless shorts and greased up your asshole because you wanted me to fuck you. Is that it? Do you want me to fuck you, fag?" I started crying. "No, sir. I don't. Please don't do this to me." "Oh, shut the fuck up. It was always going to come to this. Fags get fucked. You're a fag and I'm a guy who needs to fuck. I just didn't expect you to come home tonight ready for it. Now get up to your room and get on your knees on your bed. I want to be comfortable when I do it for the first time... I mean when I do you for the first time." He was blushing. I would have been moved by his eagerness to lose his virginity, even if it was at my expense. But his embarrassment hardened his anger. He grabbed my hair and pulled me toward the stairs. "Don't make a sound. If Mom and Dad wake up, I'll tell them that you came up to me dressed like this and begged me to fuck you." He shoved me ahead of him all the way to my room then pushed me onto the bed. He stripped off his clothes and climbed up behind me. I made a point of not looking at him. I didn't want to see him. If my master had ordered me to have sex with him, of course I would. I'd be glad to do it, not because I wanted to, but because I wanted to do whatever my master told me to do. But Kurt had no idea that Tommy was abusing me behind his back, and he never could. He'd overreact and get into trouble. Tommy rubbed his cock in my crack until the tip was pressing against my hole. He pushed hard and his dick popped inside me. I was still slippery, but not from the afternoon's hot fuck with my Master. About an hour before we closed down the dealership, I'd slipped into the bathroom and prepared just in case Kurt and I had the chance to do it again. If I'd known that I was getting myself prepared to be raped by my younger brother, I would have thrown away the lube and the anal douche. "Oh my God!" Tommy hissed through clenched teeth. "This feels better than I hoped it would." I wanted to say something nice, but Tommy grabbed the back of my head and said, "Don't turn around." His voice sounded whiny, like he was about to cry. Once he was sure that I wasn't going to look at him, he grabbed my hips and pushed his whole cock inside me in one thrust. His flabby thighs pressed against my ass and he slapped both hands on my cheeks and said. "Jesus Fucking Christ! Your ass feels so damned good on cock. It's better than your mouth, bro. I am so going to get me some of this every fucking day!" "Shh!" I hissed. "Quiet, Tommy. You're going to wake Mom and Dad up!" "You know, Dylan. Right now, my dick feels so good that I don't care. They could come in here and start screaming and I'd just say hold on minute, fuckheads. I need a couple of minutes to cum before I can deal with your shit." "Okay, okay, okay. Calm down and I'll show you something." He got really quiet and whispered, "Show me." I whispered back to him, "Do it real slow." When he pulled out, I clamped my ass as tight as I could. He moaned, "Oh my God, Dylan, that's amazing." When he pushed back inside, I relaxed to the best of my ability. Tommy leaned over my back and started kissing my spine. "I had no idea you were such a good fuck. You may be a fag, but you're my fag brother and I plan to use your sweet ass as often as I can." I couldn't believe that I was working so hard to make my brother feel good when he was forcing himself on me, but I didn't want him to make too much noise. And maybe it was perverse, but this was obviously his first time and I wanted it to be good for him. There was no denying the fact that Tommy had no clue what he was doing. Even the fact that I was clamping my asshole wasn't going to bring me to orgasm. But Tommy could barely contain himself. It only took a few minutes before he cried, "I'm cumming now. Oh. My. God. Fuuuuuuuck!" He collapsed on top of me, knocking me down and pressing me into the mattress. He bucked his hips like he was trying to sink farther inside me. When he stopped moving, he lay atop me for several minutes until his breathing returned to normal. Then he climbed off of me. I sat up while he was getting dressed. He seemed embarrassed as he turned to leave. But then he stopped and pulled me to my feet. He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me close. He put one hand behind my neck and pulled me close. He locked his lips with mine and pushed his tongue inside my mouth, taking me completely by surprise. "I know you think I hate you, Dylan, but I don't. You're a fag, but you're also my brother. That makes you my fag. I love you and I'm going to have sex with you whenever I can, but I will still beat you if you disrespect me or fail to obey. You know I can do it." He kissed me again and then left me alone. I lay on my bed and tried to go to sleep. But I couldn't get this situation out of my mind. My own younger brother had just confessed that he loved me. And he'd laid claim to me. I wasn't attracted to him in that way, but I was happy that he didn't hate me. And what would he say � or even worse, what would he do � when he found out that I was in love with Kurt? I had no idea what kind of perverse incestuous relationship Tommy had in mind. I wasn't attracted to him physically, for a lot of reasons beyond the fact that he was too young and he was my brother. But his age and the whole incest thing made it impossible to even think about. I couldn't do it. I had to find some way out that didn't involve Kurt beating the shit out of him until he backed off. And the simple truth was that I was going to be with Kurt. End of story. Characters ● Bethany Morgan. The mother of the Morgan kids and the wife of the pastor. She's a passive-aggressive woman and a homophobe. She's 44 at the start of the story. ● Cory Lundgren. Bethany's youngest brother. He's short, blond, and blue-eyed, like Dylan. He stands 5 foot 7 inches tall and weighs 150 pounds. He's fourteen years younger than his sister. He was thrown out of the house for being gay when he was 18. He's 30 years old at the beginning of the story. Corwin Alan Lundgren. He works as Mr. Groth's assistant, but he's secretly his slave. ● Craig Morgan. The pastor. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 160 pounds. He's thin and mean, with a sour expression. Although secretly gay, he married Bethany Lundgren to cover it up. He and his younger brother Kenneth Morgan (Kieran's father) never got along. He took Kieran in when his parents died. He's 45 at the start of the story. ● Damian Wilder. High school senior who is 17 at the beginning of the story. He's 6 foot tall, handsome, with a dark tan, green eyes with tiny flecks of gold, a snub nose, and a broad mouth. He's Steven's occasional lover who would like to be more. He's on the swim and diving teams. ● Donald Morgan. The oldest Morgan son. He's 5 foot 11 inches tall and weighs 180 pounds. He's heavy-set but strong. He has dark red hair and a lot of freckles. But they look good on him. He's mean-spirited and domineering, and he made his brother Dylan's life hard. ● Dylan Morgan. The main character who is the middle son in the Growth household. At 17, he was 5 foot 5 inches tall and weighed 130 pounds. He has blond hair and blue eyes. He's submissive and has dreamed of being his best friend's slave since middle school. ● Elizabeth Jepps. She's the only Morgan daughter. She's much like her mother. She's seven years older than Dylan. She got married at 18 to get out of the house. They rarely see her except at church. She's married to Jerry Jepps. ● Edgar Williams. The sound and video technician at Pastor Morgan's church. He's 35 years old with brown hair. He has an average build. ● Fred Nelson. A twenty-eight-year-old salesman at Groth automotive who seems very interested in Dylan (and Aaron). ● Greg Miller. A blond athlete, a senior in high school. He's one of Kurt's closest friends. He plays on the football team with Kurt. He's tall, thick bodied with muscle, and strong. Dylan has always felt that Greg didn't like him and was trying to undermine his friendship with Kurt. ● Jerry Jepps. He's the husband of Elizabeth Morgan-Jepps. He's six years older than his wife and thirteen years older than Dylan. He works as a manager at the Farm and Feed store. ● Kurt Groth. He's the youngest Groth boy, only a few months younger than Dylan. His mother was black, so his skin is much darker than his father. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 175 pounds. He muscular but less bulky than his father. He has medium brown skin and black hair with tight curls. He wears it medium length on top with a low fade. He is bisexual, but he's in love with his best friend Dylan. He wants to dominate him totally and own him as a slave. ● Roger Groth. Owner of Groth Automobiles, Groth Farm Equipment, and several properties around town. He's forty years old and has two sons, Steven, and Kurt. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 200 pounds of solid muscle. He has light brown hair and fair skin. His wife died 15 years ago, and he's been Cory's master for the last 12. ● Steven Groth. The oldest of the two Groth boys. He stands 6 foot 4 inches tall and weighs 190 pounds. He has light brown skin and wavy black hair that he wears very short. He was a swimmer in high school and keeps his body shaved even after graduation. He has light amber eyes. He was in love with Kieran Morgan all through high school and he regrets not pressing Kieran to come out of the closet when they were in school together. He's a year older than Dylan and Kurt. ● Thomas Morgan. The youngest Morgan son. He's two years younger than Dylan but he's about the same size. He has bright red hair, pale skin and a lot of freckles. He joins in with his oldest brother teasing and tormenting Kieran and Dylan.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/bodybuilder-trains-a-new-pussie-boy/bodybuilder-trains-a-new-pussie-boy-4	Date: Fri, 22 Mar 2024 09:23:13 -0700 From: gayD Subject: Bodybuilder Trains a New Pussie Boy, Chapter 4 Hi Guys, I received several suggestions that my stories should be professional published in book form, but Amazon and other USA publishers do not publish porn. I'd have to reach out to porno publishers in other countries due to my extreme sex content. Anyone know of such publishers? Bodybuilder Trains a New Pussie Boy Part 4 of 6 I pulled over to the side of the highway. Cars were whizzing by. "I just want to get some video footage to post on GayTies.com. We'll add these videos to their category, `Naked in Public.' Won't that be nice? Now, get out of the car, Chad, and crawl for us on hands and knees down the highway." Rick commanded and pulled out his camera. Chad turned to me. "You must be kidding. I don't want to be on GayTies. Please say you are kidding. I mean, my family. My friends, my school? I have done everything. I did everything ... you ... I can't do this." I shook my head and smiled. "I have to say this for you. You are an obstinate little bitch. Are we going to have to hurt you again?" Rick told the boy, "You don't need family, friends and school. All you need to focus on is pleasing us. That makes your life so fucking simple." "Oh please, sir. I'll suck your dicks. I'll do a better job. Please, don't make me do this. There are hundreds of cars going past." "So, you better be ready to scramble back into the car if anyone stops. You can see I've positioned my car so I can zoom down the off-ramp quickly. Now, I want you to crawl as I taught you. Back arched, ass up high in the air, legs spread wide. I want the video to clearly show your new cunt. If you don't do it right, we'll just have to do it again, and... again. Just crawl 30 feet, showing us your fresh new cunt. That's all!" Chad opened the door, bawling like a fucking baby. He took his feet off the dash but seemed to have trouble moving. "I'm so scared. I can't walk ... my legs are like jelly," he protested. "That's okay. You're not walking anyway, just crawling. just do as I tell you, and this trial will go quickly," Rick told the frightened boy. I know what I was doing was dangerous for us as well. But I am a risk taker. Not much scares me anymore. I love the thrill of taking big fucking risks. Especially when it is some innocent boy who is being degraded or humiliated. Chad crawled bare-assed down the highway. Cars slowed, but people didn't like to get involved. None stopped. No trouble. We even followed him in our car while he crawled, and Rick snapped photos. I didn't need the emergency off-ramp. Chad crawled into the light of our headlights. His bare-ass high, his legs spread, and his balls swinging. His sore, stretched asshole was a work of art in the headlight glare. He was losing it. I could tell. In one day, he was losing it. That was all right, as I intended to remake him into the kind of cock hungry fuck slut I wanted. Breaking him down was the first was the initial step to re-making him. But this straight boy's highway abuse was nothing, nothing compared to what was coming to him. We made him crawl all the way to a rest stop. There amid parked cars, we took more video of him bare-assed naked and crying. Guys exited the toilet and offered to fuck him for us, but we had to get to the gym. I told the guys that we would be back another time. At last, we allowed him to crawl back into the car, tough he was shaking and in shock. My buddy Rick owns the fucking gym. So, it was no problem to close it for "a private party." He invited about thirty guys he knows from his cycle club and from the s/m bars around town. They were all there waiting for Chad when we arrived. Chad was pretty fucking disoriented. He had had enough abuse slammed into him for one day. But ... sorry for Chad, his fun was just beginning, or should I say, OUR fun was just beginning. While we drove to the gym, Rick, in the back seat, had Chad lower his front seat until he was almost lying back as in a dentist's chair. He had his bare feet up on the dashboard. We also had replaced his nice thick rubber dick up his ass. He was coming along nicely. With Chad's seat reclined, Rick would lean over Chad's face and tell him to keep his mouth wide open. Then, he would spit into the kid's mouth repeatedly until Chad's mouth was filled with a lake of spit. Rick held Chad's face real still, let a long string of spit hang from his mouth, and went right into Chad's nostrils. He wanted the little cunt to be smelling and tasting his manhood. Then, he ordered the boy to swallow. Rick is a no-nonsense dude. Maybe even rougher on a boy than I am. When we pulled into the Gold's Gym parking lot, Chad stiffened. "Please, oh please, for the love of God, don't make me go into the gym naked. Everyone will think I am a faggot!" I laughed and ruffled his hair. "Everybody already thinks you are a faggot because we told them you were. The gym is closed to the public tonight, so you don't need to worry. It's just us and some friends. Now, be a good little cock sucker and hop out. Make me proud." I did toss him the mankini string suit to put on. I think that made him look more indecent than if he were fully naked. There he stood in the parking lot in his string pouch, looking miserable. I put one arm around his shoulder like he was my girlfriend and walked him to the gym. They were ready for us all right. The beer was flowing, and the guys were standing around in only jock straps or tight gym shorts. Turns out there were 28 of them. They cheered when we walked our little pussy boy into the gym. Chad could hardly breathe. He kept groaning guttural sounds in his throat, like a little boy who has cried so hard, he can't quite stop. The guys applauded Chad's nice outfit. "Look at the fucking faggot!" One guy yelled, "Brock, is this your new pussie boy?" The others roared with laughter and echoed him Chad did a foolish thing. He broke away from me and ran toward the guys. "Somebody help me, please. They forced me to do this. I am not gay. Please, somebody, help me!" He fell to his knees embracing the legs of one of the members, pleading. He was barefoot, hauled back and kicked Chad right in the face. It wasn't hard enough to break his nose or anything, but it was hard enough to lay him out. I was over him in an instant. "You have embarrassed me in front of my friends, Chad. You will be severely punished for that. You will be sorry. Very sorry. You will never ever cross me or embarrass me again. Don't you think I want to be proud of my new boyfriend? Or should I say, girlfriend? I'm still not sure. Now, Chad, listen and listen good. The guys here will take the next two hours to work out. It's totally free tonight, all on Rick. The only difference from the usual gym practice is that there is an open bar with hard liquor and beer. That, plus the guys will be working out wearing only their jockstraps. Your job during the next two hours is to crawl, I repeat, crawl from dude to dude and beg them to let you lick out their sweaty assholes. You know how stinking asses get when guys work out. The sweat just drips from the ass crack and the hole itself. Well, I want you to crawl around and offer to lick those sweaty, stinking assholes clean. There are 28 guys here at our wonderful Gold's Gym. That's 28 asses for you to lick and suck. And you better do a first-class job on every single one." The guys cheered, and some of their prick pouches were already straining with huge erections. I stripped down to my jockstrap, as did Rick. We had a glass of wine and watched our friends work up a good sweat doing their sets. These guys took working out seriously, and they were ripped as hell. Soon, the room stank of male sweat, and it was time for Chad to go to work. I paid close attention as he approached the first three or four guys to ensure he was doing well. Later, he would be on his own. He crawled with his ass up and the dildo sticking out of his hole. He arched his back as I had taught him and kept his legs apart so his balls swung when he crawled. He was learning. Soon I will break that stubborn streak of resistance in him. Chad still thought he had a right to his own thoughts and feelings. Still, it was only the first day. I suppose it takes a formerly straight college student a bit of time to adjust to the idea that he is a mindless cum hole! That is, he is to have no life at all except to service dick! Most people, horny as they are at times, can never understand a life where your only thought is the cock, balls and asses of your betters - where you have no other work, no other hobbies, no other interests, certainly no family, friends or school to distract you. You have to forget a lifetime of love and nurturing so you can become an animal whose only purpose is to serve your Masters and his fucking fuck meat. But don't worry, I had every intention of getting Chad to that point. I really was quite taken with him. Chad had been instructed to ask each guy working out, "Please, Sir, may I lick your sweaty ass clean for you?" We started with some of our closest friends, who would get things going properly. "What did you say, faggot? I couldn't hear you," a muscular buddy asked, tensing his sweating glutes. Since the guys only wore jockstraps, their asses were naked, and we could see the drops of sweat clinging to the ass hairs. "Please, Sir may I lick ... oh God ... may I lick your sweaty ass clean for you." He was shaking all over the place. "Yeah, actually, a nice ass suck would be good right about now. Rest your head back on the leather seat of this Universal gym, and I'll just squat down over your faggot mouth. Honest to God, the look on Chad's face was priceless. With his jockstrap pouch stretched to bursting and a big grin, Mike straddled the kid's face. The sweat from his hairy ass dripped onto Chad's face. "Use your hands to spread the ass cheeks, Brock wants you to get way in there," I instructed. "OOOOOOOH," Chad wailed as he spread the muscular ass globes, and more stinking sweat dripped down onto his face. "Lick up and down the crack to catch all the sweat. Then suck the ass hairs so you get them nice and clean. And then go to work on the asshole itself. First, lick all around the pucker. Then suck on the ass, pucker. Then, stick your tongue as deep as you can up into the rectum! Then wiggle your tongue and fuck it in and out of my rectum. Then suck hard on the ass while you tongue my rectum. Anybody complains, and you are in deep shit." And so, it went. Chad went from muscle man to muscle man, sucking ass. It took quite some time, but none of us were in a hurry. "Take notice, Chad, how each ass tastes and smells differently. I am going to want you eventually to be able to identify one of my friends just by the taste of his ass." So this was Chad's life. This "straight" young college freshman has become my faggot on demand to do what I say when I say it, how I say it, and where I say it. So, his life is over as he knew it. "Hey, pal, my pits are really rank. Can I have the faggot lick my armpits as well?" "I don't see why not. Right, Chad? After you finish with the asshole, bathe his pits with your tongue. And include that from now on as part of your service." The taste of those assholes and pits must have been horrible if the smell was any indication. A few times, Chad broke down and said he could not continue. But Rick produced a Taser, and we soon had our boy back up to speed with all the enthusiasm of a young pup. Chad was so intent on sucking ass, in fact, that he seemed to forget entirely about the large rubber dick up his own ass. You see how quickly we adjust. He had been an ass virgin just that afternoon. Eventually, all the asses had been sucked, and Chad lay on a mat, exhausted. His eyes were blurry, and spit hung from his swollen lips. Sucking 28 asses is no simple chore. I held up an empty water bottle. "Our boy Chad looks thirsty. We can't have him dry-mouthed. The next activity is sucking jock strap pouches. I hope you boys all wore your filthiest jock straps tonight. But Chad needs a drink. Does anybody want to help out?" A large, sweaty Black man named George took me up on the offer. I didn't know him, but he was Rick's good friend. He was six foot six and built like a fucking warhorse. He took the empty water bottle, opened it, and pulled aside his rank jock pouch so his eight-inch dick would flip out. And then let it go. He shot his piss into the bottle. Several guys in the room audibly responded to the sight. Others just stared. "Holy shit!" I said to Rick. "Yes, George has a 13-inch cunt buster when erect. I thought Chad might like that!" "Oh my, yes, I think that will be one of his best friends. I need to get to know George better!" George held the water bottle under his massive fuck meat, tensed, and a heavy spray of dark piss filled the bottle. Some of the guys cheered, and George's blackface lit up with a white-toothed smile. He was quite a work of art. He was a professional fireman, but he could have been a porn star. I guess, as a fireman, his hose could come in handy! The bottle was filled to the top with very dark piss. George returned the top to the bottle and handed it back to me. "Sorry if my piss stinks bad. I was eating asparagus." "No problem, George," I said, wanting to get to know this dude better. "That's quite a fucker you've got on you." He looked down at his wrist-thick dick and smiled a thick-lipped smile. "Yeah, I've been blessed. Got to be careful, though. I can rip a boy's pussy so easy it ain't funny. Most of the time, guys refuse to take me." "Well, I can assure you, once we get him broken in, you can have Chad's pussy any time you please. You just come on over any time you feel the urge to fuck!" Chad might have been asleep. He lay very still, covered with sweat. I kicked him gently. "Here, Chad, baby. Something to drink. Drink this, you'll feel better." With a shaking hand, Chad took the water bottle from me and put the bottle to his lips. The first sip gave him quite a surprise. He coughed and gagged and spit onto the floor. I kicked him in the ass. "Don't you dare spit any of that out. George went through all the trouble to make it for you. I want to see you drain every single drop from that bottle! DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME?" I was getting a bit upset with his continual resistance. What does teaching a boy that you do not spit up a man's piss? Jesus, it doesn't take a Rhodes Scholar to know that. I am afraid I have always been something of a bully. When I was in high school, I would stop some little kid on the street, some kid of seven or eight, drag him into an alley, and make him drink my piss. But Chad would do just fine. We watched him gulping down the stinking dark yellow piss. "Don't chug it too fast. You'll get piss burps." Rick quipped. "Hey, I got to piss too," a darkly handsome Latino guy said, stretching his muscles and rubbing his dick in his dirty yellow jockstrap. "Tell you what," I announced. "Anybody who needs to piss. Piss in this large plastic pail. Then, when Chad gets thirsty, he can have some of it. Chad's tight little tummy will soon be bloated with man piss. "All finished, Chad? Good boy, you see how well it goes when you just follow orders and don't make a fuss. We could all have so much fun, and it would be easier for you if you went with the program. I don't like always hurting you. You know how much I like you. I've got a big old crush on you. But you make things so difficult." Chad was hardly listening. Piss was running from his nose and lips. His eyes were unfocused. "Come on, baby, stay alert! Time for your next fun task. You're gonna love this!" "Come on. We can't allow you to sit around all lazy like. Now I want you to go from guy to guy and give each guy's jock strap pouch a nice suck. Most of these straps are stiff with piss and cum and sweat, so you should get lots of flavors. I want you to get so good you can suck on a dude's jock strap and tell to whom it belongs. Of course, not tonight. Tonight, you are just getting your first taste. But within a few weeks or so. Look at all those hard pricks pushing out those elastic pouches. You are going to get a nice taste of dick too." I continued, "But, Chad, before you get to your jockstrap cleaning, I think it's time we get you into something a bit more comfortable. Chad, come with me." 'Puh-lease, puh-lease don't do this to me. Puh-lease, let me ... go. I'll be good. Please, Sir, I can't take any more ... " Chad burbled as he changed into the new outfit I just handed him. I gave his nipples a good hard twist. "Now, Chad, that's the thing, I know you feel like you can't do anymore, but lookie here, you're gonna love doing this. It'll become second nature. So, pull yourself together because, boy-oh-boy, do I have a lot more fun in store for you!" I told him with my usual big country boy smile. You're gonna just love all these big stud guys!" "Yes, I know you think this is not you. But the good news is, this is the you I want you to become. This is great! So, make me proud, Chad! This is our first date. First dates are so important. Tell me, do you believe in fucking on the first date?" I lay him back on a bench and worked his nipples, actually pulling his body up off the wood by the tits alone. Before I was through with him, he would have teats like a pregnant bitch. "I mean, if two people hit it off and really like each other, like you and I do, do you think it's wrong to fuck on the first date? I mean, I probably should have you tested for HIV and stuff to play safe as modern couples are supposed to do. Even though you claim you are an ass virgin and straight. I mean, you could be lying to attract me. So, we both should be tested, just to prove we're clean because I don't wear a condom when I fuck. But on the other hand, I think I should wait to have you tested after all 28 of my friends are going to fuck you! They're all going to fuck you bareback too, and I hardly know some of them. Rick does. So, I assume they are all clean. But you never know, do you. So, I'll have you tested after they all dump their loads up your pussy." "I'm not ... I'm not ... please don't ... please ... I'm ... " The cute little shit wasn't even making sense anymore. And so, he reappeared in the gym, hardly able to even walk, wearing his new costume, a black see-through mesh jockstrap-like pouch. You could see his dick and balls clearly. His chest, with his stretched red nipples, heaved with the labor of each breath. "Okay, Chad, the guys are going to sit around now and sip some beer and wine, and your job is to get those filthy jock straps clean as a whistle. Suck all the dried cum and piss and sweat out of those pouches." "Start with me, faggot," a huge hairy guy I didn't know shouted. "I ain't washed this jock strap in a year and a half." "You heard the man, Chad. A perfect place to start." Chad's pretty little mouth got pretty dry from sucking on all those jock strap pouches. The taste of sweaty dick and cum and piss and that dry elastic pouch can really get to you. So, every little while, we let Chad crawl over to the big plastic pail and slurp up some stale piss that filled it. Soon his hard little tummy was swollen like he was a bitch about to deliver pups. He started to beg me to allow him to please go piss, but I told him he would have to wait. He went on sucking the prick pouches that the guys at the gym were wearing. He got to taste the hard leaking cocks under the pouches too. A few guys flipped the pouches to one side to let Chat lick their big, sweaty balls. After thirty minutes of this, we were all pretty much ready to fuck some faggot boy's ass. However, I felt that Chat needed a bit of instruction on cock sucking, as he had not actually done very much of that yet in his life, and he would be spending most of his days doing that in the future. So, I had one of the big black guys give him a cock sucking lesson. We all watched while the black stud instructed him. Chad knelt before the muscular dude and licked his big, hairy purple nuts. He had sweat on his forehead from the need to piss, and every few minutes, he would double over with cramps. He would beg me to let him piss in between licking his scrotum, saying the pain was more than he could take. I told him that if he did an exceptional job learning how to properly suck dick, I would allow him to relieve his bladder. He moaned but turned his attention to the dark brown and purple 10-inch dick hovering over his face. The black dude started by gently bitch-slapping Chad with the hard prick. Chad had to hold real still while the huge thick hunk of fuck meat whapped him across the face over and over, leaving trails of pre-fuck. Then Chad was instructed to open his mouth wide and stick out his tongue. When he didn't stick his tongue out far enough, the muscleman tapped the kid's ball sack with his naked toes just hard enough to elicit a long, drawn-out wail. Chad knelt with his tongue out, the cramps becoming more frequent now. His "Cock sucking" teacher rested the plum-sized purple head of his dick on Chad's tongue. It leaked like crazy, and a trail of fuck slime worked its way like a tiny river down the tongue into the boy's mouth. "Yo, make sho' you taste dat dick! Don't just suck da motherfucker. You taste every dick you suck. You make sure it rubs over dat taste buds in your fucking face cunt! Got dat? You taste da flavor of dat prick!" I had to laugh. I didn't know this black dude well, but I did know he was the marketing director for a major firm. He was using street slang just for fun to intimidate Chad. "You got dat, you mother fucking pansy cock sucking faggot? You understand dat you got to really taste da flavor of every single dick you suck?" Chad tried to answer, but the big dick head leaking on his tongue turned his words into grunts. Jesus, that Black dude leaked a lot like a dog's spittle leaks continually when he is rutting. I reminded myself to invite him to more private parties so he could leak in some kid's mouth. A terrible spasm of cramps doubled Chad over, and the dick slipped out of his mouth and hit his head, leaving some pre-fuck in his hair. This did not make his teacher happy. He pulled back one large brown hand and slapped the boy hard across the face. Hard enough to loosen some teeth, I'll bet. "Did I tell you to take dat dick outta your face hole? Did I say you could let ma cock head slip offa yo tongue? Get yo useless fucking mouth twat back up here and rest my dickhead on yo tongue like I taught you!" The black dick was magnificent and looked so beautiful, resting on Chad's tongue. We were all jerking off just watching. Slowly the black dude began to see his dick in and out of Chad's mouth, a little at a time, riding on the cock lubed tongue. The dickhead itself was so huge that Chad had to open wide, like at a dentist's office, just to get it in. He had difficulty imagining taking more than just the cock knob in his mouth. That huge dick slid over on the boy's tongue in and out. "Now let your tongue go back in yo mouth slightly. I said slightly, white trash. Now bring dose white cock sucker lips around the head of da dick as I fucking yo cute little face. Keep tasting ma dick. Don't stop tasting ma dick. I know my dick feels huge. Dats cause it's mother fucking huge, but don' worry, you can take it. I got faith in you." In and out, the huge brown cock went. The boy's lips closed over it as the tongue went into the mouth, and the cock started to gently fuck the face. Chad's lips pushed the thick dick skin back and forth. "Dat a good little faggot cunt. Dis boy gonna make a first-class cock sucker! Easy does it. Take more and more dick. You got three inches in yo mouth. Only got seven more to go." At that, Chad made some kind of hysterical, freaked-out sound that got us all laughing. "Now relax, yo palate. Let ma dick just slide in on dat pre-fuck. Down into yo throat!" Through the large hollow gym workout room, you could hear the sound of guys' hands slapping their balls as they pounded their pricks watching the show. Chad was singing now. It was a moan, but the tone went up and down with the big black cock going in and out of his mouth. More and more cock. And then Chad gagged! The black dude pulled out, stepping back, his 10-inch fucker swinging and throbbing and leaking like mad. "What da fuck was dat? You gag on my dick? You gag on my dick, faggot?" Slop ran from Chad's lips and dripped from his chin onto his chest. He looked terrified. "I ... I ... it's too big. I'm sorry, but it's too big. I can't ... I didn't mean to gag ... I ... " On and on the stumbling apology went. We were trying to keep from laughing, but Chad was crying. The giant Black man reached down and grabbed Chad by the nipples. He lifted the kid off his knees by the tits! He actually lifted him right up by the nipples until poor little Chad was hanging limply by his nubs. I feared for a moment that the dude would tear the teats off, but he knew what he was doing. He let Chad's toes just touch the ground. Chad wiggled and twitched like a puppet. "You don't gag on my dick! Ass wipe cock suckin' mother fucking pussies do not gag on my big beautiful dick! You got dat?" "It's too big ... it's too beautiful. It's just too big. It's so awesome, Sir ... " You should have heard the shit coming out of Chad's mouth. "If you relax yo face, cunt, like I tole you to do, dere wouldn't be no problem. I fuck down into yo throat just like it was a nice tight twat. I'm teachin' you how to make yo throat a cuntal passage! I gonna be fucking it God damned hard soon, so my balls bounce offa yo chin! You gotta learn how to take ten inches down yo gullet, boy! You hear me? YOU IS MA FACE CUNT! NOW TELL ME WHAT YOU IS!" "I'M YOUR FACE CUNT, SIR!" Chad yelled, getting with the program. "Tell dese other dudes what you is!" "I AM MR. BROCK'S AND YOUR FACE CUNT!" Do you think it's demeaning for a boy to have to admit that he is a face cunt for guy's dicks? That his face is used as a pussy for dudes to fuck and unload their dick slop into? I suspect our boy Chad was feeling a wee bit degraded. Well, this went on for some time. The big black dude worked more and more dick into Chad's mouth and down his throat. Of course, Chad gagged again. Who could not gag with that much fuck meat going down his windpipe? The black allowed that his dick was so huge that maybe a little gagging was to be expected. 20 minutes later, Chad hung off the black muscle bodybuilder's dick like he was attached to it by the mouth. The boy had no fight left. He was practically limp. But his mouth suctioned and slurped on the massive fucker invading his throat. Saliva and pre-cum ran from his mouth on each backstroke. The huge black balls slapped against the boy's chin and neck on each forward thrust. The black held Chad by the ears and fucked him as hard as possible. I loved watching the meaty black ass cheeks contract as he fucked the boy's face and throat. It was beautiful. More than one guy shot his load just watching. We directed guys about to shoot to either do it in a large jar we had for the purpose or to step up and unload onto Chad's face and hair. When the black giant came, his whole body tensed and vibrated. He slammed his dick as deep as he could and wiggled his hips so the cock would touch every part of Chad's innards. Chad couldn't breathe on the in strokes, of course, and he started to wither on the huge dick. The black just held his head as he sprayed the boy's throat and stomach with cum. Then he pulled out so the second spurt would fill Chad's mouth. Then he pulled all the way out so ropes of cum on the third spurt would hit the kid in the face. We gave the guy quite an ovation for his outstanding performance. Chad lay on a floor mat in a fetal position, whimpering and sobbing. Cum ran from his mouth and nose. It covered his face. He held his distended tummy and sobbed. "You still need to piss, Chad, my sweet new boyfriend?" I asked gently. "Does my baby need to piss?" "Oh, God ... yes, please. It hurts so bad. Please ... " He rocked on the floor, holding his stomach. When he opened his mouth, strings of cum connected the upper lip to the lower. Backed-up sperm dribbled from his nose and ran into his mouth. He was really cute that way. I put one bare foot on his swollen stomach and gently pushed. Like a mother giving birth, he wailed, the sound bouncing off the wall of the gym. "Okay, Chad, you can piss. Go on, throw your legs up over your head and piss into your own mouth!" "Wwwhaaaaa? Huh?" Poor cunt was almost incoherent. He blinked and looked up at me. "You heard Brock," Rick told the boy, "You swing your legs up so your feet rest behind your head and let your dickie hang over your mouth and open wide and relieve yourself into your own mouth!" Chad really truly believed he could not take any more abuse. Once again, he was so wrong. This was just the start of our fun. Here, we hadn't even scratched the surface yet, and he already believed he could not take any more. He had so fucking much to learn. I zapped him with a Taser a few times to get him to put his legs up and his feet over his head. His dick, shriveled and wrinkled from pain and humiliation, hung limply over his face. "Go ahead, baby. Open wide and have your piss. You have been begging for it. If you don't piss now, you may not get another chance all night. After you finish pissing, we will commence with the ass fucking and cock sucking. We've got 28 horny dudes here waiting for a crack at your crack, or perhaps your mouth, or maybe both. I mean, most of these dudes can cum three or four times a night, And although the night is no longer young, it is not yet anywhere near old!" I smacked Chad on the back of the thighs with a jump rope, and a spurt of piss shot out of his dick onto his face. The guys cheered. Once the piss stream started, he could not control it. It was a heavy, hard spray-like water shooting out of a fire hose. It splashed onto his face and into his mouth. He closed his mouth and eyes against the onslaught, but I kicked him to remind him to keep his mouth open and to swallow. In front of 28 horny dudes, my new boy, Chad, pissed into his own mouth! He sobbed and pissed. Piss and cum and snot and tears ran from his face. The piss flowed like a hose into his own mouth. Shit, he certainly drank a gallon! No wonder his tummy had been bloated. Of course, he swallowed so much urine that he was sure to be bloated all over again, this time taking recycled piss from his own "system." Near the end, he just rolled over and puked piss and cum onto the floor and lay there like a beached whale, although a good-looking beached whale. "Well, baby, my buddies are not going to want to fuck you looking like that, so what say you crawl into the shower and clean off. Come on, fuck hole, up and at 'em." He was so filthy I didn't even want to kick him with my bare foot. He struggled to his shaky knees and, on hands and knees, started to crawl. "Whoah! Wait up there, fella. Look at the mess you made on the gym floor. Look at all that piss and puke. Why not be a good boy and lick it up!" To be continued... Fuck! They surely put him through enough! Right? After his shower they'll ease up on the kid, right? Besides, I don't think Brock is being successful at converting him, do you? So... Brock and his muscle mates will cut him loose. But I'm just guessing. Let me know what you think. Bruce Darkforce [email protected]
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/flight-12/flight-12-24b	Date: Sun, 31 Mar 2024 14:39:43 +0000 (UTC) From: Travis Creel <[email protected]> Subject: Flight 12 - Chapter 24(b) Addendum to Chapter 24: What We Know So Far [Author's Note: If you have a good handle on who's who and what's what, you can skip reading this and wait for the next chapter, which will continue the story. I will submit it the day after this document is posted. Also, apologies for the CAPS – as Plain Text (required by Nifty) doesn't support italics or boldface, it's the only way I can highlight a particular word.] GENERAL * STIMULEVER has created a test universe, BETAWORLD, as part of `THE PROJECT', a plan to replace the existing universe with `something better'. The island exists only in Betaworld, as does ZTA, the airline that flew Flight 12. `The Project' is to launch at midnight on New Year's Eve, at which time Betaworld will cease to function. * On the plane, Flight 12 passengers were divided into two groups: (1) `THE TWELVE' (seated on the right) and (2) the `LEFT-SIDERS'. The Twelve exist only in Betaworld; memory of them has been purged from the real world (`Alphaworld'). Versions of the left-siders exist in both universes. * THE TWELVE all congregated at the Phallic Tower, but by now four of them have been captured by DODECAGONS, each of a different color, on their respective birthdays (which are all in the current month of December). By deciphering a pattern on the tower floor, the men now know the color of dodecagon they must avoid on their birthday. * The LEFT-SIDERS were captured by Hamish early on. Like the Twelve who are delivered underground by the dodecagons, the left-siders are kept naked and are used (and abused) sexually by Hamish's `lieutenants'. With each arrival of `a Twelve', a left-sider is castrated and, the next day, executed; however, his Alpha version lives on unharmed and oblivious to the existence of Betaworld. * The island features at least one `PENIS GARDEN', another means of transporting individuals underground. Victims are impaled on a dildo, thrust high in the air, then zipped through the earth to Hamish's domain. Only nude men can be victimized by a penis garden; clothing seems to provide immunity. CHARACTERS CURRENTLY AT THE PHALLIC TOWER (age to the nearest year) * SETH HERRICK, 29, our hero, suspects that those who have disappeared have been taken to a different universe, possibly the original one. He is obsessed with fulfilling two goals: (1) finding and rescuing his boyfriend Abe, and (2) preserving the safety of those who remain on the surface – especially Augie, whose birthday is imminent. * HARRY MANCINI, 28, has evolved into Seth's right-hand man and sounding board; he is the one who has deciphered most of the clues the island has provided. Harry, overweight, has low self-esteem, caused by his sexual inexperience and humiliating incidents in his past. He has lately befriended Jordan, newly arrived on the island. * AUGIE STAPLETON, 20, is just realizing that he is gay, and can't reconcile this with religious indoctrination that taught him that all homosexuals go to hell. He is reeling from the discovery that his `girlfriend' Jordan is actually a male who dated him in convincing drag. With his birthday approaching, Augie knows he must avoid the green dodecagon, which had earlier caused him to strip and beg Ray to fuck him (events he did not remember afterward); Augie was later raped by Lucas prior to Lucas's capture. * JORDAN MURDOCK, twenty-ish, Augie's `girlfriend', has reverted to presenting himself as a male. He had originally been planning a sex-change operation so that (s)he could marry the naďve and religiously conservative Augie. Uniquely able to briefly break the firewall between Alphaworld and Betaworld, Jordan sought to sue ZTA and their parent company Stimulever, teaming up with Miles King. He was recently taken to the island by Sean (to save him from being `neutralized' by Stimulever), and is trying to regain Augie's trust and love. * GARY ONSLOW, 27, who suffers from dissociative personality disorder, is gay and shy, and is usually dominated by his other personalities, the taciturn, asexual CODY (who thinks he is a cattle rancher missing his herd) and the randy, aggressively gay RAY. Since Jordan's arrival, Gary has appeared more often, and has befriended – * JASPER ADENA, 34, who was being treated for sex addiction and is struggling to remain celibate on the island despite being surrounded by hot gay men. * ED NIEMANN, 49, a British knight transplanted to Boston, is bitter about losing his estranged gay son Leo to the dodecagon; Ed is openly homophobic despite at least one gay encounter as a college student. * VIC TORRANCE, 26, a Black physical trainer, was recently reunited with his partner MILES KING, who arrived on the island with Jordan. They coupled enthusiastically, but Vic noticed that Miles seemed emotionally distant. Vic is trying to recover from the shock of watching Miles get captured by a `penis garden' and disappearing underground. * TIM FALLON, 30, hasn't had much to do yet in this story, but is among the eight members of `The Twelve' who remain at the Tower. Some of the Twelve's clothing has disappeared, including all their socks and underwear and a few shirts and shoes. Seth is perpetually nude, and has been instructed to remain so by mysterious notes he's received. CHARACTERS CURRENTLY UNDERGROUND * HAMISH DISALVO, forties, the ruler of this joint, is slowly collecting the pieces necessary for the launch of The Project. He has a cruel streak, and utilizes a dozen `lieutenants' to abuse and intimidate the left-siders prior to their eventual castration and execution. Hamish rules over his domain with his partner – * PERCY, thirties, whom I neglected to supply with a last name. Percy was the flight attendant on Flight 12, and has developed three favorites among the left-siders, chief among them being – * ABE DERISIAN, 25, Seth's boyfriend, who was captured after wandering a couple of days on the island's surface. Percy treats Abe as his `pet pussycat' and limits access to him by others. * BARRY RUSSELL, 41, Flight 12's pilot, was taken underground directly from the plane. A bdsm top in his prior life, Barry is forced to be Hamish's `boy', but is sometimes rewarded by being allowed to fuck other captives. Hamish treats him as the family dog, often requiring him to wear a puppy-tail dildo and walk on all fours. * IAN O'LEAHY, thirtyish, one of Hamish's lieutenants, has a past history with both Seth and Abe, having been a boyfriend to each at some point. Underground, however, he has developed an attachment to his roommate, the left-sider – * STAN KOWALCZYK, 22, a married man who discovers his gay side after being topped by Ian. Recruited by Leo to join his escape attempt, he was talked out of it by Ian. Slated for castration on December 11th (Augie's anticipated arrival date) he was reprieved after Ian earned a favor from Hamish by exposing Leo's escape plot. * PAUL ETON, 24, one of the Twelve, was forced (while above ground) to wear a jockstrap which he could not remove. Now underground, his jockstrap has been replaced by one made of human skin. Paul has fallen in love with – * DAISUKE OMI, 33, another of the Twelve. Dai had joined Leo's escape attempt, which Paul hoped to dissuade him from. After the attempt failed, Paul was forced to nominate either Dai or Leo for execution, and spared Dai due to his love for him (and Leo's general obnoxiousness). * LUCAS HEIDEKKER, 35, whose pre-flight hobbies included cannibalism with his friend Stefan, is a captive member of the Twelve, but has been reunited with Stefan, now one of Hamish's lieutenants. Lucas preys on his roommates, especially Paul, which has earned him the respect of Hamish and Stimulever. * PIERS THOMPSON and THEO SEBOLD, age unknown, two Bahamian friends traveling together, are left-siders who joined Leo's escape attempt. As punishment, Hamish told them they would be put into `permanent bondage'. Percy, fond of this pair, decided to spare them from being Stan's replacement on the castration schedule, a slot which instead fell to – * AL CASEY, 20, Stan's friend and seatmate on the plane, a clerk at Costco. * MILES KING, early twenties, Vic's boyfriend, was not on the plane, but, after connecting with Jordan in Aruba, was taken with him to the island by Sean. After sex with Vic, he wandered into a penis garden and was taken underground, surprising Hamish and Stimulever. Hamish and Percy were en route to interrogating him when they encountered the failed escape attempt. * Besides Ian, several other LIEUTENANTS have connections with members of The Twelve, revealed in flashbacks. They include ANTHONY (Paul), STEFAN (Lucas), and the four MAYER BROTHERS (Dai). CURRENTLY IN SWITZERLAND * SEAN O'HARA, early thirties, the only Stimulever board member with a last name, instigated a relationship with Seth five years ago at the behest of chairman JESÚS, and fell in love with him. Hoping to make Seth his permanent slave, Sean secretly seeks to sabotage The Project; he took Jordan and Miles to the island partly in hopes that their presence would disrupt `the physics'. * Other board members include (alphabetically) ARI, ARTURO, DEMETRIUS, DION, FALCON, FRED, GERMÁN, PAOLO, SIMON, and THIBAUT. Counting Sean and Jesús, there are twelve of them. (Are you surprised?) They also use a consultant, DOLPH, an expert in running computer simulations, to determine the parameters necessary to actualize The Project. Board member Ari advocates taking extreme measures to address just about any problem that arises. IN MEMORIAM * LEO NIEMANN, 19, who rebelled against being subordinated underground and led an escape attempt. After Stimulever learned that Jordan and Miles' presence on the island altered `the physics' and that one of The Twelve had to be sacrificed, Leo drew the proverbial short straw. A jockstrap was then fashioned out of Leo's skin and Paul was forced to wear it. * PHIL, Barry's co-pilot, was executed by Barry after having been castrated. Barry was given the choice of humanely killing Phil or watching Phil die by more extreme means, and chose to shoot him while he was asleep. * A few anonymous left-siders have seemingly been done away with. FLASHBACKS The most important flashbacks concern the history of Seth and Abe (and Sean (and Ian)). * Seth and Abe met a year ago, and after an initial attraction, had a disastrous second date when Seth, urged to be aggressive by Ian, forced Abe into handcuffs before fucking him. Ian, who had dated both Abe and Seth, helped engineer a reconciliation. Ian's bad advice was partly based on input from a psychiatrist friend-of-a-friend named Jude. * Abe realizes Seth had been emotionally damaged by an affair years ago with a man named `Sean' but cannot get him to reveal the nature of it. He does not realize that this `Sean' is the same `Sean' that he has been occasionally sleeping with behind Seth's back. * The cause of the emotional distress: Five years ago, Sean, working on behalf of Stimulever, arranged for the kidnapping of Seth's triplet sons. It occurred on a day when Seth was skipping work to have sex with Sean. The event forced Seth to reveal his homosexuality to his wife Megan, who was so devastated over the loss of both her husband and her children that she committed suicide. Seth broke up with Sean and spent years trying to find a satisfying relationship with various boyfriends, eventually resolving itself in Abe. There are other relevant flashbacks, relating to secondary characters, but rather than regurgitate them here, I'll remind you of them if and when they are important for an upcoming chapter.
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/retraining-the-shadow	Date: Mon, 9 Sep 2024 05:13:11 -0700 From: Fin Subject: Retraining The Shadow Retraining The Shadow by Fin This story was requested at my website finslandofgayart.blogspot.com Check it out for art, games, or to request a Free Short Story of your own! Thanks! Day 0 A chorus of laughter filled the warehouse as the blonde hunk swung slowly back and forth in the air above the crowd of violent men, his legs caught in the noose that had snared him seconds earlier. "Look who wanted to drop by and say hi, boys!" called out one of the criminals. "Feel free to hang out for awhile, Shadow!" yelled another! The Shadow just glared at them in response, his cute young face contorted into an angry snarl! But in reality, The Shadow was more furious at himself, than these thugs! How could he have been so stupid!? The 20 year old youth had fallen for the simplest traps in the book! And now he was suspended by his feet, slowly rotating in the air between the men he had come here to catch! And now with the lights of the warehouse turned on bright, there was no way he could use his powers to make himself blend into the darkness once more! The Shadow's goose was truly cooked! "Where's The Shade, Shadow? Or did your boyfriend let you go out on the town alone tonight, faggot?" taunted one of the muscled hairy brutes that filled the warehouse. It seemed as if there were hundreds of the criminals inside the building! The Shadow had come to The Docks alone tonight, despite being directly ordered by The Shade to wait for him to return from his current mission in order to attack. But the daring youth had believed he was invincible, and his arrogance would prove his undoing! "Maybe the bitch was looking for some real men instead," called out another as he approached the upside down sidekick. "I mean, look how he's dressed!?" More laughter. The Shadow knew his outfit left much to be desired in terms of both body armor, and aesthetics. But the more material the college boy wore on his body, the harder it was for him to use his abilities. So the sidekick would venture out every night to face the criminal underworld in basically nothing but his underwear! Then the hero felt hands roaming his smooth muscular torso, and pinching his cute rear end! One of the thieves had approached him from behind! "Sure is a pretty little cunt though," the man said in a hushed voice as his rough palms slid over the soft skin of his prey, touching the lad anywhere he pleased. Craning his head to the rest of the crowd of violent onlookers, the man spoke again. "It's going to be a long night waiting for the boat, gentlemen. Why don't we make our guest feel at home?" The man's grin was insidious. And the face fucking of The Shadow was to last for hours. Hundreds of dicks after the first to ever pass through the sidekick's cute lips, the boy's handsome face was smeared so heavily in criminal cockslop that he could no longer see! Cum dripped down his smooth cheeks and chin to puddle on the ground beneath his head, while thug after thug forced themselves down his throat to their own fiery climax. The boy had initially gritted his teeth in an attempt to resist his attackers. But several hard swats to his bubbled butt had him yelping for mercy. One of the thugs had then used the opportunity to sink his rock hard erection balls deep in the lad's throat in one brutal thrust. The Shadow's oral virginity had such been vanquished quickly and totaly. The college boy's eyes bulged from their sockets as he gagged from tasting dick for the first time in his young life! Men weren't supposed to suck cocks! It was though to become a meal he would come to enjoy slurping every day to follow! But for now, as the wide greasy sausage pistoned into his mouth, forcing the lad to breathe through his nose as the man's balls slapped his forehead repeatedly, the sidekick wished with all his might that he followed his leader's orders that night. The boy would be forced to pay for that mistake for the rest of his long life! One after the other, the criminals of the warehouse lined up to have a go at the muscular youth's mouth, inserting their hungry rods into his new fuckhole, seconds after the last had retreated, often saving their loads to have another turn at his face later on that evening. It might sound unusual, but it turned out the violent rape, actually brought the brutish men together in a sort of horrific bonding ritual. Cordially cheering on the next fucker, chatting about how nice the boy's warm throat felt wrapped around their manhoods, discussing what they wanted to do next to his smooth sweaty body... the criminal gang began to have a gay ole' time that night in the docks. This had been their assignment in months! When the squirting began, it never seemed to end for the young hero. Hosed down with the salty seed of one fucker after the other, the gross slime soon overwhelmed the college boy's senses. Sloughing down his face, clogging his nostrils, spilling from the corners of his mouth, The Shadow's upside down blonde head was eventually coated in their viscous spunk. None of the criminals knew how long they had been face fucking their young victim, when they first noticed the tented spandex at the boy's waist. "No way!" cried out one of the mob, gesturing to the others at the college hunk's obvious erection. "It looks like The Shadow's in love boys!" called out another. Fits of hyena like laughter roared through the warehouse. One of the men grabbed the sidekick's cum soggy head to address him directly. "Is that true faggot? Are you falling in love with us, boy?" Barely able to see through the semen over his eyes, The Shadow futiley tried to defend his masculinity. "I'll.. get.. yoghgghg!!" But the muscular youth's comeback was cut short as another phallus shoved it's way inside his cum drooling mouth. "What was that Shadow? I couldn't hear you, what with my cock in your mouth!" said his fucker as the man's hairy sack began to swat his cute face as the muscular man's wet dick buried itself inside. The college boy's speedo was next torn from his smooth body, letting his hard cock waggle into view of all. "Everyone else has been having a blast, cuntboy! I think it's about time you join in the fun, bitch!" The lad's face fucker then reached up and began to yank the poor sidekick's thin hard manhood, while still ramming his own cock into the boy's throat below. The Shadow gasped around the thick rod surging down his esophagus! The youth had never had another man's hand on his dick before! He should be hating it! But instead the rough callused palm felt so nice! The boy groaned around the cock in his cum soaked mouth! The sex was finally getting to the college boy! He was only human after all! And the grunts, and the flesh, and the heat had been warping his poor mind for hours! The upside down sidekick began to quiver in the air as his meat was rudely jerked by his rapist! Until at last The Shadow came himself, adding his own syrupy load to that of the hundreds now coating his body. Laughter. Laughter that stung his semen mixed tears. What had he done?! What had these men done to him!? The sidekick began to sob at his defeat! Noticing the sorrowful sounds wracking their victim, another one of the muscular hairy brutes stepped forward. "Awe, don't cry bitchboy. We've been having such fun!" said the man to the crying hero. "I know what should cheer you up!" From where the man acquired it, or why he had it on him in the first place, none around him ever questioned, but soon the naked criminal was fastening an electrified cock lock to the youth's wilting member. Humming to life, the device would keep The Shadow hard and erect the whole rest of the evening, in the painful metal cage. The muscular boy bellowed around yet another veiny dick in his throat as he felt his rod shocked back to life! The face fucking lasted until dawn. The shipment at the docks actually having never arrived. The thugs did not mind though. The gang had a new toy! And they weren't even close to being done yet! Day 1 Eventually The Shadow realized he was no longer upside down. Instead he was now laying on his stomach on a belly so full of man spunk that it bulged beneath him. The boy groaned! He had been raped! Raped for hours! And he had cum from it too! The muscular youth's mind was ablaze in shame! The sidekick could not believe he had lost so spectacularly so! The college stud had no idea where he was now. A blindfold had been secured over his cum crusty eyes sometime while he slept. Wearily the lad doubted he was still in the warehouse. Suddenly there were other voices. "Well it looks like Sleeping Beauty has decided to join us again, gentlemen." "Have a nice nap, faggot?" called out another as the boy felt his exposed rump receive a hard slap. The same horrible, taunting laughter continued once more. "When The Shade finds me, he's going to...." A greasy cock plugged the youth's mouth before The Shadow could finish his sentence! Nooo! Not again! "None of that cunt!" ordered his fucker. "No one's ever going to find you down here, boy!" More laughter. The Shadow's mind sank. Somehow the college lad knew it to be true. These men were going to rape his body forever! And no one! Not even The Shade would be coming to his rescue! Still stimulated in the buzzing cage, the sweaty youth's meat surged at the thought! Sex with these hairy brutes forever! The boy's cock seemed to want it to be so! What was becoming of him!? Another hard slap to his jiggling round buttocks! "We wanted to wait for you to be awake for this, slut! It's not every day a boy becomes a bitch!" It was finally time for The Shadow's other hole to get some use! The college lad could only whine as he felt several sets of hands start to explore his lower body! How many there were, he could not say! But grab, and stretch, and pull his firm muscular flesh they did without end! The criminals sweaty palms slid over his meaty orbs, gripping his hips, and slipping into his crack. Their fingers eventually found the smooth youth's anal ring, and began to ever so slowly tug it open, one brief second at a time. "Noooo!" the sidekick screamed, allowing the sausage in his throat to sink even further down his esophagus! They were going to fuck him! They were going to turn his ass into a pussy! The college stud wanted to stay a man! But there was nothing he could do now to stop his anal deflowerment! Ever so surely, his ring began to give way to the greasy callused fingers, allowing them deeper and deeper access to his forbiddrn sanctum. "That's it bitchboy. Let us into your hole slut," one of them cooed into his ear softly. Wider and wider the sidekick's hole stretched until their hands were sinking into his rectum with ease! "UGHHH!" groaned the defeated dogooder! He felt so full! So full of their squirming digits prying apart his anal lips! And what was worse, was that it should have felt so much more terrible! Maybe it was the cock cage, maybe it was the hours of horny sex that preceded it, ormaybe it was that The Shadow really had been a faggot all along.... but for whatever reason, the hands on his ass now felt as if they belonged there! It did not take long for the vanquished college boy to begin unconsciously humping his hips backward to try and get more of the men inside. "Unreal," whispered one of the naked criminals as he watched the sidekick converted into nothing but their willing whore. "I'm not waiting any longer!" called out another. And within moments The Shadow was skewered up the ass by the first cock in his young life! There would be so many to follow that the number was mind boggling! The sweaty muscular boy yelled himself hoarse around the cock in his mouth as he felt his ass demolished, the man keeping his dick wedged down deeply inside to muffle the sound. Spit roasted from both ends, the college kid's life as the heroic Shadow had been summarily destroyed by the cocks plowing him asunder. Grabbing hold of the boy's slender waist, the criminal up his ass began to fuck it for all he was worth. The stud wanted to show their new bitchboy exactly what a man he was! And what a worthless hole his conquest was in return. As the smooth sidekick was humped from both sides for hours to come, the conquered hero started to understand how true this fact had now become. With each rhythmic thrust of the thieves' slick manhoods, the youthful hunk realized that this was to be his place now. Not as some hero dashing from rooftop to rooftop. But instead on his hands and knees, impaled on the cocks of the stronger, manlier men that had beaten him so thoroughly. The pleasure starting to emanate from the pounding his prostate was receiving did not in any way assist his mind's defenses! Why did it have to feel so good!? Why did his bitchhood have to be so hard in its cage? Why did the rod in his mouth have to start tasting so nice? Why did the cock in his ass have to create such sparks!? But all of these sensations were now ocurring, and they were to doom The Shadow to a lifetime of endless sex. When the muscular thug ramming the lithe lad's rectum to smithereens finally reached his orgasm, the youthful hunk was devastated to find himself horny at the feeling of the man's slimey load filling him up from the inside. The sticky seed never seemed to stop gushing into the boy's interior passageways! And it was only the first of many loads that day! Day 10 The muscular lad whom had once been The Shadow was still wearing the same blindfold as the first day. The criminals whom had captured the boy saw no use in allowing him to see. It was the only article of clothing, besides his metallic cock cage, that the smooth hunk would ever wear again. For the last 10 days, the new cunt had been on the receiving end of nearly an endless line of hungry cocks. The gang seemed to never tire of fucking their new bitch, and the horny thugs had enough members to keep the fuck train running indefinitely! Cum was the only thing the former sidekick would ever eat again, with the occassional swig of piss to wash it down! But the shame of his new life was eventually replaced by the youth's own hunger for more. Sex was all there had been for days! And only rarely did his captors free his trapped boydick to jerk him off for their amusement! The new bitch began to slurp at the cocks in his mouth greedily. To grind his back end down on whomever was currently spearing his rectum. To whine for a new dick to pleasure whenever he was momentarily ignored. The men noticed the change, and grinned at each other in pride. This was what it was to truly be a man! To use one's dick to make whomever you wanted into your willing bitch! And that was exactly what The Shadow had become. A boybitch! A slave! A slave to these hairy muscular thugs. A slave to his desires. A slave by his own will. Day 100 The chains that held their victim down had long been removed. Only the blindfold still adorned the lad's cute face, much by his own choice. The eternally naked boy enjoyed it to be so. Feeling so helpless got the former hero off, in a way he never would be able to describe. Nor would ever need to. The horny gang was always there to force their pleasure onto him, just as they had for the first time, so many days ago. The cunt slept with these men now, snoring happily amongst them in a great pile of sweaty contented manflesh. One of the gang. The lowest, most cum sloppy member of their criminal organization to be sure. But one of the boys nonetheless. The former crime fighter never thought of his past life of heroics. Or of the hero of whom he had once been the sidekick. The brutal thugs whom had conquered his mouth and anus with their cocks were his new family now. And the bitch wouldn't have wanted it any other way. -Fin
https://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/authoritarian/small-town-slave-boys/small-town-slave-boys-12.html	Small Town Slave Boys Chapter 12 Small Town Slave Boys I welcome feedback from readers, in fact I thrive on it. It's really the only payment authors on NIFTY receive for their efforts. If you enjoy the story please take a moment to drop me an email and let me know. Comments from my readers drive my creativity. This story is a reboot of the original Small Town Slave Boy story. This story will be found in the gay/authoritarian subcategory. It's tangentially connected to the College Magic Series, but there are no supernatural elements. Dylan Morgan is the son of a homophobic minister named Craig Morgan. He was one of four children in the Morgan household, not including their cousin Kieran who came to stay with the family when he lost his parents at the age of 12. This story tells of his life and how he became a slave to his best friend Kurt Groth. The plural Boys refers to the fact that Dylan's uncle Cory is also slave to Kurt's father Roger. This story is mostly told from Dylan's point of view, but occasionally the point of view shifts to another character. The text will always tell you when there has been a shift in POV. There will be scenes of dominance and submission, as well as some bondage and domination, and a little light masochism, but this is not a story of objectification, and it's not a one-sided story. It's a love story with D/s and BDSM elements. There will be some non-consensual scenes in later chapters, non-consensual in the sense that the main characters will choose to engage in some activities to avoid being outed too early, but the activities between the principal characters are consensual. For those who appreciate this kind of story read on; others be forewarned. This story is fantasy. In the real-world consent is not only important, but also sexy. Please remember that NIFTY is a free site that provides an invaluable resource for men like us. Please consider donating to help ensure that site remains available for everyone. https://donate.nifty.org/ You can contact me at [email protected]. Author's Notes ● If you want to be informed of new stories, send me an email, and ask to be put on the notification list. I'll send a notification. Everyone will be on the bcc line so your email address will not show to other members. NOTE THAT SOMETIMES GOOGLE WILL NOT ALLOW BULK EMAIL AND THAT SOMETIMES BULK EMAIL WILL END UP IN YOUR SPAM FOLDER OR TRASH. ● I have created a google group for people who want to get more information about my stories in that format. Only I can view the member list, so data should be secure. If a reader sends a question my way, I will post the answer to that group after removing any information about the reader. It's a good way to get more background information if you want. https://groups.google.com/g/pseudominius-stories ● While this storyline is designed to stand alone, you may have a better idea about some of the background if you read My Roommate the Alchemist and Alchemy and Songcraft, since Kieran Morgan is a character in both story lines. This story stands alone, however. When these characters interact with the characters in College Magic, the entire scene pertaining to this story will be included here. ● I hope my revision process has gotten better and there are fewer errors in this chapter. I am my own editor and sometimes I don't catch typos, missing word, and misattribution errors. I apologize if any are still slipping through. ● My editor is Robbear ([email protected]). He not only edited this story but provided a lot of insight and suggestions that made the story better. Links to My Stories College Magic Cycle ● My Roommate the Alchemist ● Wishcraft ● Alchemy and Songcraft ● Magery ● Elf Master ● The Pack ● Tales of Severan Other Stories � Small Town Slave Boys � Jack and the Giant � Sacred Submissives � Bellus Cinaedus � Guardian Angel � Eros in Arcadia � Nivean and the Dvergar � Desert Heat � Constituent Services � The Dancing Princes Small Town Slave Boys Chapter 12 Dylan Sunday morning rolled around, and my smart watch alarm vibrated on my wrist, letting me know it was time to get up. This morning was different from any other morning because I was sandwiched between Kurt and Greg. My master was behind me, his strong arms wrapped around my chest, his big cock pressing between my thighs, hard with his morning wood. Greg lay on the other side of me. When I'd gone to sleep last night, he'd been facing away from me, but now he was turned toward me. My face was pressed against his powerful chest and my nostrils were filled with his scent. I didn't like it as much as Kurt's, but it was still more than a little bit arousing. When I slept over at the Groth house, I set an alarm so I could wake up before my master and take care of his morning needs. I wiggled out of his embrace and down toward his hard cock. Greg had slept with his arm thrown over me, but now his arm lay across Kurt's. Their faces had been almost close enough to touch one another during the night. With me gone, they drew closer together so that I was sandwiched between two erections. As much as I'd enjoyed Greg's cock last night, Kurt was my master and his was the cock I'd been in love with from the first time I'd seen it. It was dark under the blanket, so I couldn't see anything, but I could feel them poking me and I could smell their masculine scents commingling. I took hold of Kurt's cock and peeled back his foreskin. I ran my tongue across the tip and savored the layer of precum that covered it. The taste was a little funky since he'd fucked me last night, but I didn't care. I kind of liked the taste. Kurt moaned in his sleep. I took the head of his cock in my mouth and used my tongue to massage the sensitive underside. I took hold of his egg-sized balls in one hand and fondled them gently. My master awakened and threw the blanket off us. Then he reached down and patted my head. "You know how to make your master feel good, Slave Boy." Greg woke up and pulled rapidly away from Kurt, as if it burned him to touch another dominant jock while naked. I thought to myself, straight boys! And I continued to worship my master's rod. Greg moved down lower on the bed and put his hand on my butt. "That was amazing last night, Kurt. Your boy's ass was so damned tight. It was..." "...better than any pussy you ever had," Master finished for him. "I know." "Kurt, be serious with me," Greg said. "If I liked fucking Dylan better than I did any of the girls I'm with, does that mean that I'm gay too and just don't realize it?" It was weird to hear this intimate exchange, that was at least in part about me, but not to be a part of the conversation. It was oddly arousing to hear them talking about me, like I wasn't there. Why did it get me so horny that Greg was thanking my master for the use of my ass last night, and that he was telling him how good it was, while I was right there in the room sucking sock as they spoke? Kurt I'd known this conversation was going to come up. Was Greg bi? Maybe. Gay? Probably not. He'd just discovered the joys to be found when a tight butt squeezed his cock and he was on the verge of panicking. I wondered if he'd even realized that he was running his index finger up and down Dylan's crack. I took a deep breath to clear my mind, then I said, "First off, bro, who cares? Labels are bullshit. You fucked my boy last night and it was mind-blowingly awesome. That doesn't make you gay. It doesn't even make you bi. It makes you one of the only two people in the world who've been lucky enough to fuck Dylan." "What if next time I'm with a girl... I can't... you know... because I'm thinking about how much better it was when I fucked Dylan?" I had to laugh at that one. "Okay, bro. If you need to picture Dylan's ass while fucking a girl, that could mean you're bi. But let me ask you a question. When you picture a girl naked, do you get excited?" "Hell yeah!" "And when you kiss a girl, do you get excited?" "For sure." "And when you touch a girl's naked body, do you get excited?" "Yes." "Then you still like girls. You're not going to have a problem." Dylan's mouth was getting me close despite the weird conversation with my second-best friend. He had half my dick in his mouth, and he was already gagging a little. I had a vision of throwing him down on the bed and shoving my cock down his throat all the way, with him choking and gasping until he turned red in the face. I shook my head and cleared that image from my mind. I had to be careful with Dylan. He was so eager to please me that he would do anything, no matter how painful it was. It made me feel not just like his master, but like his god. That feeling of power, the look of adoration on his face; the tears streaming out of his eyes as he struggled to take even more of my cock into his throat; the way his hands so expertly cupped and fondled my balls, not too forcefully and not too gently; the way his mouth formed a perfect seal around my shaft while his tongue teased it to new heights of sensation. All these things were happening at the same time. My body shook and then every muscle clenched tight at once. "Take your master's seed, Slave Boy. Take it straight down your throat. Yes, yes, YES!" His throat convulsed and hummed while I gave him my load. As I glanced down to see why Dylan's throat was still vibrating on my softening dick, I noticed his ass had been kept busy. At the same moment, Greg must have realized what he'd been doing. He pulled his finger out of Dylan's crack and sat up straight. "Was that a one-time deal last night, or can I use Dylan's ass again this morning?" he asked sheepishly. Roger When Cory had first come to me, he'd been small and thin like his nephew Dylan, so I'd put him on an exercise program to make him more muscular. I liked him fit, tight and toned, with enough muscle for definition, but not too much. It had been a challenge to get it right. However, looking at him now, I thought his body was perfect. But no matter how fine he looked, no matter how many times I told him how much I loved him, he was still insecure. Last night, I'd been gentle, and I'd cuddled him because he'd needed it. His insecurities about his thirtieth birthday had hit him hard. This morning he was in a different mood. I woke up to the warm and wet feeling of Cory's mouth on my cock. My piss was coming out in a steady stream, and he was swallowing it as fast as it came. He knew that my bladder would release if he put his warm wet mouth on my cock, so I knew that he was telling me he was ready for something more than a gentle fuck and cuddle this morning. His hair was still damp from the shower, and he was wearing his tight leather jock, the one with the little metal cones inside that pushed into his cock. He was also wearing his thick leather collar and body harness. It hadn't even been my idea to buy that little number. That was all Cory. Truth was that he was a lot kinkier than I was. When my bladder was empty, Cory continued to suck on my cock until he'd teased it to rigid erection. Then he climbed up and straddled me. I could see that he'd attached a heavy chain to the rings in his nipples. I smacked his firm ass hard. "This is one hell of a way to wake up on a Sunday morning, Boy!" He smiled down at me and positioned my cock at his hole. I could tell from first contact that he'd already prepared the way, like the good slave he is, "You were so sweet and kind to me last night when I was needy, Daddy. But this morning I want you to tear my ass up before you abandon me to go visit The Creature." "The Creature" was Cory's nickname for his brother-in-law, Pastor Craig Morgan. He knew why I attended that church. He knew that my plan was to bring the pastor down, but it still hurt him a little that I was giving my apparent support to the man who'd ruined his life. "Oh, I'm going to tear into you so hard, you won't sit comfortably for the rest of the day. Then you're going to go downstairs and make me pancakes. And while I am at church, you're going to clean the whole house and do the laundry. I smacked his ass playfully to accentuate each statement. "And if it doesn't pass my inspection, I'm going to beat your ass with a cane." "Please don't beat me, Master!" he teased. "Mm. I am going to beat you. You get ten lashes just for trying to weasel out of it. It's what you deserve for questioning your master." Cory sighed and shuddered. I could tell from experience that his cock was swelling inside its pointy prison and he was feeling it. I knew what he needed. I backhanded the leather pouch, pressing the metal cones harder against his flesh. "Thank you, Master, for punishing me!" he cried. Then he pushed himself down over my hard cock. I had a big cock and it was never easy for Cory to take the whole thing, no matter how many times he'd done it before, but he was an expert. He gritted his teeth and pushed down with steady pressure until his smooth, incredibly well-toned, and perfectly round ass was sitting on my pubes. I lay back and let Cory do the work. He bounced up and down on my cock with vigor, leaning forward enough to run his hands through my chest hair. I took hold of the chain connecting his nipple rings and pulled on it. He moaned through parted lips. "Ungh! Do it harder, Daddy." I tugged just a little harder and then said, "That's twenty lashes with the cane now for trying to give me orders." He angled his hips so he could push back against me with more force. He was crushing that spiked pouch against his cock with every bounce. "Sorry, Daddy!" I had to watch Cory when he got into a masochistic mood. When we'd first gotten together, I'd allowed him to push me past my own, much safer, limits, and I'd hurt him. I made a note to have that discussion with Kurt. Dylan showed all the signs of following in his uncle's path in that regard. I didn't want to see Dylan hurt and I didn't want Kurt to go through the kind of soul searching and self-recrimination I'd gone through. Cory was moaning louder and grinding harder. He was getting close, and his amazing ass was bringing me along with him. Cory was an expert. He had a talent for clamping his hole tight when pulling off my cock, and then relaxing when he was sinking back down again. I'd only ever been with a few guys. Cory hadn't been my first. I'd been with a few guys in secret back when I was hiding that part of myself, and I'd experimented with sex parties when Cory and I were a new couple. But I'd never been with anyone who could milk my cock with his ass the way my boy could. "Sit up!" I barked at him, and Cory sat up straight with his hands behind his neck. This was one of his display positions. I could see every muscle on his slender torso, and it was a pretty sight. I loved watching them move under his smooth skin as he bounced up and down. I could also see the leather of his jock tented out, despite the interior spikes, by his swollen cock. I remembered when he'd begged me to buy it for him. He'd sworn that it would keep him from cumming � we were practicing cum control back then, by which I mean we were trying to limit how many times Cory came to see if it heightened his horniness and sexual response. Of course Cory was always horny, so I didn't really notice a difference. I recalled how surprised we'd both been when he came inside that pouch, even though he couldn't get fully erect and the little metal cones were constantly poking into his small, but perfect, penis. I knew that Cory preferred to cum from my hand, so I started slapping that pouch with the back of my hand, making him moan even more. "Yes, Master, yes! You hurt me so good!" Despite the coolness of the room, Cory was covered in a sheen of sweat. The pressure was building inside my shaft and my nuts were beginning to draw up, well as much as they did at my age. I held back as long as I could. If Cory didn't cum by the time I was finished he wouldn't get to at all. When I'd told him that I didn't think that was fair to him, he'd told me, "If I don't cum right now, it means I didn't really need to cum. I'll just keep getting hornier and hornier every time I think of you and then I'll cum next time." The idea for all these rules had come from Cory, but I had to admit that they made me hot. As I got closer and closer to orgasm, I picked up the tempo and increased the force I used to smack Cory's genitals. That told him that I was getting close to orgasm. He picked up the tempo of his bounces as well. "Can I cum, Master?" he begged. I could see the need written across his face. I had only a few seconds to decide. What did my boy need this morning? The way he'd come on so strong could mean that he needed to cum again, but he'd had a mind-blowing orgasm yesterday. The leather harness and spiked jock said his masochism was showing through. I smacked his jock hard. "No. No orgasm for you this morning, Slave. Maybe later today, if you finish all your work." His face was torn between joy at having been denied and anguish because he was so close. I pulled his hips down and held him tight against me as I shot my load. "Take your masters seed, you fucking slave! How many cocks in this relationship?" "One, Master!" "So what do you have, if you don't have a cock?" "A boy clit, Master, a slave nub." I clung to him while I unloaded. He whimpered and concentrated on not cumming. I decided to take it easy on him, so I carried him into the shower, took his jock off and sprayed him with icy cold water. I used to get my thrill out of small cock humiliation and cum denial a few years ago, but Cory still got off on it. There was no way I was going to fail to give him what he wanted, not after he'd done so much for me. And that often meant denying him, frustrating him, and controlling him. When he'd come to me all those years ago, I was in a deep depression, an almost dangerous depression. I'd lost my wife and I'd become a single father. I'd stopped exercising and I was beginning to get soft. I was walking through my life like a sleepwalker. I had two beautiful boys at home who needed me, but I was pulling away from them. Cory always said that I saved him, but he saved me, like a beautiful ray of sunshine that led me out of the darkness. I started exercising again; I was able to focus on the business; and most importantly, I became the father that my seven year old and five year old needed. I allowed Cory to kneel in the shower and clean my cock with his mouth. Then he took the washcloth and cleaned my body. "Thank you, Master. I love you." This was one of the most incongruous things about my life. I started it because I could tell that he needed it all those years ago, but the extent to which I dominated Cory was driven by him. He was excited to have me take care of him and make the decisions, but at the same time, he took care of me in so many little ways. It wasn't just washing me in the shower, and knowing when I needed a massage or foot rub before I did. It was the way he had my work organized for me, never telling me what to do, but anticipating what I would need and having it available for me. When he started cooking for me and the kids, our diet improved. My clothes were always perfectly pressed and ready for me to wear. Sometimes it felt like I dominated him actively, but he was the one who dominated me behind the scenes. If anything ever happened to him, I would be in an even worse place than I had been before he came into my life. "And I love you, too, my sweet little slave." When we were both dry, Cory put on a fresh cotton jock. I said, "As horny as you are, you need to wear a cup this morning. I like seeing your little erection pushing against the fabric, but I don't want the boys seeing it." Cory gave me a wicked smile and asked, "And what about Dylan's hard little nub. Kurt keeps him exposed most of the time around the house." I kissed Cory's lips, gave his cheeks a firm smack and replied, "Dylan is still a boy. It's different for him to flash us than it is for us � by which I mean you � to flash him. You were only a year older than him when we got together and I seem to remember that you couldn't go more than a few minutes without popping a boner." Cory obediently put a cup in his jock and then put on a pair of silky booty shorts. "I still can't, at least not when you're around," he said. As he was leaving the room, he glanced over his shoulder and said, "Now I'm off to make your pancakes, Master!" He was sassier now that he was sleeping at my house. I wasn't surprised. I knew how happy it would make him. Kurt When Greg and I finished dressing we headed toward the stairs. Greg looked back the clothes strewn across the floor and the unmade bed and said, "Don't we have to clean up before we have breakfast? I've never seen anything out of place in your house before." I shook my head. "That's the beauty of having a slave. Dylan will clean up before we go to church." "Isn't that a little unfair to Dylan?" I snorted, "Of course it is, but that's the way he likes it. If I clean up after myself he gets mopey like he thinks I won't need him anymore. Sometimes, when he gets like that, I make a mess on purpose just to give him something to smile about." Greg poked my ribs and said, "And I'll bet that's just torture for you. Sounds to me like you've got it easy in this deal." I shook my head. "I thought that was going to be the case myself. My dad has made it very clear that things do not work that way with a slave boy. I have a lot of responsibility. It's my job to take care of Dylan and his needs, and he won't ever tell me what he needs because that would require him to `tell his master what to do'. And if he does something wrong, my dad gives me the consequences. It's like I have all the responsibility in the relationship. I don't mind, but it's not easy either." We'd just come through the door when Greg whispered, "What the hell? I can see his ass in that outfit, not that I'm complaining." I couldn't tell if he was talking about the fact that Dylan had come upstairs in just his jock, which I failed to notice and was against the rules, or if it was because Cory was bent over pulling a broiling rack out from under the oven. He was thin, but not skinny like Dylan. His muscles were firm and tight and his smooth ass was peeking out at us under his shorts. Last night, he'd been fully dressed, but this morning he wore nothing but those shorts and bright blue jock. When he turned around, we could see silver rings through his nipples. "If you're referring to my father's Slave Boy, Dylan's not the only eye-candy we have around here now," I whispered back. "You must have noticed that last night?" Greg shook his head slowly. "Oh I noticed how good looking Cory was last night, but I didn't notice how much they looked alike. Now that I can see them both... um... fully, I'd guess they were father and son or maybe brothers with a big age difference between them." "Dylan is only twelve years younger than his uncle and only two inches shorter. They do look alike. When I was younger, I thought they had to be brothers." Our whispers were interrupted by my father. "Dylan, your boy is out of slave uniform. Take him downstairs and spank him. Then make him put his shorts on. As for you, you're grounded for the rest of the day. After breakfast, no visitors. Sorry, Greg." Dylan gave me an apologetic look. I'd explained the new uniform rules to him, but I'd failed to check that he was properly dressed before letting him come upstairs. I sent Dylan downstairs to wait on me and then pulled Dad aside. "I know I messed up, but please don't send Dylan home early. His parents are terrible, and he's supposed to stay until 6:00 tonight." Dad shook his head and said, "Dylan's not a visitor as far as I'm concerned, but the two of you can't have sex or kiss for the rest of the day." "Come on, Dad, please?" He shook his head. "No. If there are no consequences, you won't change your behavior." "But if I have to watch you and Cory kissing, how am I supposed to...? Great! I guess I'll just masturbate when Dylan goes home." "Sure," he replied. "Of course, you could take this as a lesson to teach yourself, and refrain until tomorrow." I gave him a skeptical raised eyebrow. "I've been with Cory for twelve years, and in all that time, I've never masturbated. That's the advantage of having a slave. Of course, it's up to you, but Dylan isn't allowed to masturbate, and he has to wait." "Frack!" I said. "But Dylan isn't coming over tomorrow. It's a three-day weekend. And we already finished all our homework." Dad patted my back and said, "But he works tomorrow. If you follow the rules, I'll let you two use my office for a few minutes then." "Thanks, Dad. You're the best." Then I went down to the basement and found Dylan on the carpet, in slave position, his knees spread, his back straight and his hands clasped behind his neck. He was waiting for me with his head cast down to the floor. I put my hand on his head and said, "Look up at me, Slave." When I could see his eyes, I said, "Dad's not sending you home early, but we're not allowed to kiss or have sex for the rest of the day." I saw the sad look on his face, so I hurriedly added, "Bu-u-ut, he said we could use his office tomorrow for a little bit if we manage to keep to his conditions until you go back to your parent's house." "That's good, Master," he replied. Then his face fell. "I'm sorry, Master. I forgot about the rule on wearing shorts." "Yeah, well, Dad is insistent. I think he's afraid that people will call him a pedophile if word gets out that he has a naked minor running around the house. Which means I need to give you a spanking, and knowing Dad, he's going to check to see if I slacked, so go get your paddle." I sat down on the side of the bed. Soon Dylan came back holding his paddle. "Don't slack, Master. I messed up and I deserve to be punished." I picked up a die from the side table, where I kept it for just this purpose. "We don't have any specific numbers of infractions this time so you're going to roll the die three times and we'll multiply them together. If you roll a six three times, it will take me all week to give you the swats you've earned." "How many is that Master?" Dylan wasn't dumb, but he thought he was so he never tried to stretch his brain. "Two hundred and sixteen," I replied. His eyes grew wide, so I reassured him. "The chances of that happening are less than one percent. On the average, you'll get somewhere between nine and sixty-four." "Oh," he said, "I can handle nine, but sixty four would be a lot, Master." I chucked him under the chin and said, "Don't worry. If you get more than thirty, I'll convert every ten swats over thirty into a smack on the balls." Somehow he managed to grit his teeth and smile at the same time. "Twenty-one smacks to the balls. I can probably handle that, Master." "That would be twenty-six smacks on the butt and nineteen smacks to the balls." Dylan took the die from my hand and rolled it. It came up with a 5. I said, "That doesn't look so good, Slave Boy. The average now is fifteen to eighty." He rolled the die again and it came up another 5. Dylan looked at me and I shook my head. "That's twenty-five now, Slave Boy." "What's the average now, Master?" he asked me. "You can't get an average on one die, Slave Boy, but there's an equal chance that you will get 25, 50, 75, 100, 125 or 150 swats." Dylan took a deep breath and then rolled the die again. He breathed a sigh of relief when it landed on a 1. He smiled and said, "So that's only twenty-five swats, right Master?" I pulled him over my lap and held the paddle to his face. He kissed it and said, "Thank you, Master, for disciplining me so that I can learn to behave better." Dylan couldn't see my face, so I shook my head. He was really into discipline. I rubbed the paddle on his butt and then pulled back for the first swing. It landed with a powerful smack that sounded through the room. Dylan yelled, "One, Master!" I smacked him again and he didn't miss a beat. "Two, Master!" I gave him three more in rapid succession. "Three, Master; Four, Master; Five, Master" "That's one fifth of the total, Slave Boy. Are you ready for more?" Dylan's butt was already turning pink. It looked so appetizing I wanted to stick my tongue in and taste his musky sweetness right then. "Yes, Master. I'm ready." I gave him ten more. He didn't miss counting a single one. His ass was bright pink now and he was twitching with each blow. "Damn, bro. You're hitting him awfully hard." I hadn't heard Greg come down the stairs. "Um, can I watch, or is this a private moment?" "Sit over there on the chair and get yourself an eyeful." Greg seemed fascinated by the paddling. I noticed him adjusting himself inside his pants before the twentieth stroke. By that time, Dylan was crying. Greg gave me a look that said, aren't you going to stop now? I shook my head and smacked Dylan's butt again. It had moved beyond pink to light red. He was going to have a bruise tomorrow, but I knew from experience that this paddle distributed the force evenly and the bruise would be dull yellow instead of bright purple. "Twenty-one, Master!" I gave him the last four real fast. He sobbed, "Twenty-two, Master; twenty-three, Master; twenty-four, Master; twenty-five, Master." Dylan's body was shaking, and I could feel his orgasm when it hit him right between twenty-three and twenty-four. He dropped to his knees, pressed his face to the floor, and kissed my feet. "Thank you, Master." "Go get cleaned up and put on a fresh jock. Don't forget the shorts this time," I commanded. Dylan scrambled to obey. Greg looked at me and said, "That boy is seriously fucked up." "No, he isn't. Don't say that. Dylan's needs are different from yours and mine. I don't think he's ever experienced love before. His parents are... well, you've met his dad once or twice when you went to church with us. They told him he was stupid and lazy, I heard his dad tell him that he would never be worth a damn. He's dyslexic, so bad that he gets headaches almost as soon as he starts reading, but his Dad didn't even want to get him tested. Dylan needs someone to look out for him and to make sure that he does what he needs to do. He's not fucked up, Greg. He's my boyfriend and I'm going to give him what he wants and needs no matter what that is." Greg shrugged and replied, "My bad! I didn't mean anything by it. It's just that he's so fucking devoted to you, and his uncle seems to be just the same. I offered to help with breakfast, but your Dad said `No'. He said it was Cory's job and he'd get upset if I helped him." "That's true. Cory pouts if anyone but Dylan helps him with his work." When Dylan had cleaned up and changed clothes, we went back upstairs. Dad grabbed Dylan and pulled his pants down to get a look at his red butt. "Did you two have sex down there? Dylan's changed his jock." "No, Sir," I said. "Dylan cums when he gets a good spanking." Cory started laughing and Dylan turned bright red. But the older slave pulled his nephew into a hug and I heard him whisper, "So do I, Dylan. So do I." Damian Last night had been amazing. After my slavery ended, Steven had told me that I was going to fuck him. I'd never had the courage to do it before. Steven's cock inside me had felt so good, I was afraid that I'd make a mess of it, that I'd be terrible. However, yesterday he wasn't taking no for an answer. We'd decided to shower first, to cleanse the last remnants of the game we'd played that day from our shoulders, like we were closing down one chapter completely and beginning another. Steven had made sure to place the lube prominently on the nightstand. This would be my first time as a top and I wasn't sure how to get started, so Steven pulled me into his arms, and we made out for a while. He let me lay back for a little while and follow his lead, but then he grabbed my jaw in one hand and looked me in the eye. "You're the top tonight. Get aggressive and take charge." "I don't know what to do, Steven." He let go of my jaw and brushed one hand against my cheek. "Start with a kiss. Pretend that you're me, and I'm you. Just take charge and think about what you enjoy when I'm topping. Do to me what you like me doing to you." You'd think that would be useless advice, but it wasn't. I knew very well what Steven did that got me so excited. I kissed his full lips. He didn't grab me and crush my lips like he usually did. He just let me kiss him. Oh yeah! He's waiting for me. I put my hands behind his head and I crushed his lips instead. It was a strange experience for me. Strange, but arousing. Because I usually allowed Steven to take the lead, being the passive partner had quickly become my comfort zone, but I started to realize that it felt pretty good to be the dominant partner, for a change at least. I laughed inside at the thought of myself as a dom. It was almost as funny as thinking of Steven as a sub. He tried so hard to be different from his younger brother and his father, but Steven always took charge naturally. He always picked the restaurant or the movie. He hadn't even asked me before this trip. I wasn't complaining. I liked the way I never had to worry about what we were going to do. I liked it when Steven took charge, but I'd give this a shot. I kissed his strong, stubbly chin and then I kissed my way down his neck to his powerful chest. He was getting stubbly there too. Steven took hold of my head and moved it over to his nipple. I immediately pulled his hands away and held them by his side. I was getting into this and wanted Steven to know I could take control. I flicked it with my tongue and then bit it gently, just like Steven usually did to me. And he moaned just like I usually did. I was really getting into it then. I chewed gently for a while then moved on the other nipple and did that one as well. Steven wriggled free of my grip and ran his hands through my hair. He kept his cut very short even though he wasn't swimming competitively anymore, but I'd let mine grow out over the summer. "You're doing good, Damian. Keep it up." "Your nipples taste good, Steven," I said. Of course they didn't really taste like much of anything, especially after we'd just showered, but they felt good on my tongue. They'd grown hard from the stimulation. I sucked hard on them like I was a baby, eager to feed. And when he grew complacent, I bit down just hard enough to make him jump. Then I kissed my way down to his navel. There was one thing Steven did to me that felt better than anything else, except, of course, when he worked my ass or my dick, and I was about to see how much he liked it. I paused at his navel and thrust my tongue inside, licking and teasing until he started to giggle. "You seem to like that, stud! Or should I call you `boy' now that I'm the top?" Steven smacked my head gently and snarled playfully, "Don't get too cocky, boy! Just because I want your cock tonight, doesn't mean I'm your boy." I paused for a moment and then replied, "Thank you, Steven. I... I'm really fucking relieved. I like the way we do things. I like being your... not girlfriend, but you know what I mean. I like it when you take charge." "Am I pushing you too hard?" he asked. "No, sir... I mean, no not at all. I want to... you know, do it. I want to..." "You can say you want to fuck me, Damian. It's what I want, too." I smiled at him and said, "Okay then! I want to fuck you!" "Nothing else is going to change," he insisted. "Outside of bed, I'll probably forget to ask and just tell you what to do. I'm too much my father's son to do anything else. But when we have sex, I would like it if you were more forceful with me, if you took some initiative, occasionally. It's hot to me when you take what you want, instead of just waiting for me to be satisfied." "So, you liked it when I kissed you roughly?" "As much as you like it when I do it to you. I want us both to be strong and active. I want us to struggle a little and then to take turns pleasuring each other. Does that sound okay to you?" I toyed with his senior class ring that I wore on a chain around my neck and never took off. I nodded. "Yeah. It's more than okay. I think I might like it, but just remember that I may be terrible at it. I may cum as soon as I get inside you. That's how horny I am." Steven put one hand on my arm and said, "If you think that's going to happen, then use your fingers first and make sure I'm ready to go. It's okay if you don't fuck the cum out of me. I just want to feel you inside me. And then, if I haven't cum, I'm going to flip you over and fuck your little white ass until I get off. That's how it'll work." I literally breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you," I said. "That's what I needed to hear. I love you, my sexy brown stud muffin." "I love you too, my little blond studling." I loved it when he called me "little". I was average size, but Steven was so tall that I did seem small next to him. Most guys seemed small next to him. There was no one on our school's basketball team who wasn't shorter than him. That difference in size brought out my submissive side. At least I used to think I was submissive. After getting to know Dylan and meeting his uncle Cory, I realized that I wasn't all that submissive after all. Or maybe I was and they were just extremely submissive. I grabbed the lube and rubbed some on his tight hole. A thrill ran through me, sending shivers up my spine. Playing with Steven's ass, in anticipation of fucking him, made me feel like I was breaking a barrier or doing something forbidden. It was almost like when I'd first bought a dildo online and practiced swallowing it down my throat, or when I had the courage to flirt with Steven so I could taste the real thing. It was like I was stepping outside my boundaries or the role my mind had established for me. I thought about using my tongue, but I wasn't up to that many new experiences in one night. It was fascinating to experience assplay from the other side. His muscles squeezed my finger tight, but just beyond the entrance, he was warm and soft. "That's the way, Damian. Your finger feels good in there. When you're ready, add a second." My dick was so hard that I felt like I could burst at any moment. I knew I was going to shoot too soon on my first time, but I did not want to shoot my load before I got started, no matter how good his ass felt on my fingers. I took a deep breath and then pressed my middle finger inside him along with my index finger. I forced myself to think about something less sexy than Steven's tight, muscular ass, and his big cock that was lying across his abdomen fully erect and leaking. I thought of Mr. Scott, my government teacher. He was older with silver hair and a paunch. It wasn't that much of a paunch, though and I often wondered why he wore such loose trousers. Maybe he was hiding something big in there. I shifted my attention to the janitor, Mr. Brownley. He was balding and had a big nose and a scraggly beard. But his hands were really big, and I kept thinking about the old saying about the connection between hand size and dick size. And then there was Pastor Morgan. I'd only seen him a couple of times when I went to church with the Groths; my family was Catholic. I was hoping that his homophobia would help to cool me down, but my brain betrayed me again. Pastor Morgan was a good-looking guy for his age, despite the large number of freckles on his face, and... Damn it! An image flashed across my mind of me kneeling in front of him while his cock (and it was long and thick in my imagination) slid down my throat. He was calling me a "dirty little faggot" while he fucked my face. Nothing was working until my mind changed to my mother's friend Alice. She always made me feel uncomfortable. Every time she commented on "what a handsome boy I was", her eyes seemed to linger on me. Once I'd caught her licking her lips subtly when my mom wasn't looking. And then there was Tammy, the daughter of another of my mom's friends. She always tried to sit next to me in church and she was always brushing up against me. Other guys at church were jealous of the way she pressed her big tits against me whenever we were in line for communion, or we were squeezed together in the church van. I smiled at that thought. I was such a fag! Tammy was objectively a very attractive girl, with curves in all the places that most boys liked, but thinking about her sexually caused my erection to soften just enough. I was no longer worrying about shooting off handsfree while I worked a third finger inside Steven's sexy butt. "You were gone for a moment there, sexy. What's up?" Steven asked. "Sorry, I had to think of something unsexy to cool myself down." If I'd ever entertained any thoughts that I could be bi, they were gone now. "I wondered if it was something like that. You looked distant, but then when I got your attention, your whole body language changed and your smile came back, the one that makes..." "... me look totally gay! The one I save for you." Steven smiled back at me and replied, "I was going to say the one that makes the whole room light up, but yeah. It does make you look totally gay." I was wondering whether I should try and add a fourth finger, but now my mind was stuck. I needed to know. "Does it bother you at all that I'm a lot gayer than you? I mean no one even suspects that you're gay." Steven knit his brows together and said, "Not at all. I love how gay you are when we're alone, and once you're out, I hope you feel comfortable being your true self all the time. But don't get too caught up in this whole thing about being `too gay'. Just because I'm more reserved than you are doesn't make me less gay. And just because you're more open and expressive it doesn't mean that you're less male. Your maleness is just different from mine. So, if you're worried about not being manly enough to fuck me properly, I want you to know that you can be as `expressive' and `fabulous' as you want while you're pounding me out. And on that note, I think I'm ready for you now." Steven's ass had stopped resisting me. He felt pretty loose. I took hold of my cock and pushed inside him. Of course the head of my cock was bigger than my finger and the sensation when I forced it inside him was unbelievable. Other than my hand and Steven's mouth, my dick had never been inside anything. And my mind was blown open. Steven's mouth was talented, and he could suck me so hard that it made me cry tears of joy, but the feeling of his ass muscles gripping my cock, even just the tip, was almost indescribable. "Oh my God!" I cried out. "It's like my dick has never felt anything before in its whole life! This is A-MAAAA-ZING!" My voice had gone up in pitch so much and I almost sang that last word. Steven was smiling at me like... a fool? No, not that. He was smiling at me with a mixture of pride and indulgence like a coach who was proud that his prot�g� had hit a home run and was also amused by his childish excitement. He pulled his knees back tighter against his chest and he said, "There he is. There's my exuberant little gay boy being true to himself. I love it when you do that! Now push inside me slowly. I want to show you something!" I pushed a little further and the head of my cock popped fully inside him. Steven winked at me and his ass clamped tight around the sensitive area of my cock, just below the head. He saw the look on my face and asked, "Do you like that?" "Oh God, yes!" I cried. "Push inside me just an inch or so at a time, so I can give you a proper welcome." I pushed a little farther inside him, and he squeezed me again. I pushed more inside and he squeezed. We did that two more times. When my groin brushed against his ass, he said, "Your cock feels good inside me, loverboy. It's time for you to fuck me." I couldn't stop smiling. "Oh, you're going to get fucked, sir. You'd better believe it!" I started pumping inside him. I began slowly. As I pulled out, Steven clamped down with his ass muscles, like he was trying to keep me inside him. And when I pumped back inside him, he seemed to relax and welcome me. That was the cycle. Pull out with him squeezing my cock, and thrust inside with his soft and warm ass opening to welcome me. All that pent up need that I'd managed to banish came crashing down on me again. I tried to hold back the excitement, but my brain wasn't capable of thinking of curvy girls right now. I had a tightly muscled stud lying in front of me. All six feet and four inches of incredibly handsome masculinity focused on giving me pleasure. His nut brown skin was lustrous under its light coating of sweat and his big cock was throbbing in time with my thrusts. And his ass was massaging my cock with greater force than his mouth ever had. My skin began to tingle, and my breathing was growing shallower and more ragged. "I'm not going to last long. I'm sorry, sir." "Don't worry about it, Damian. You're doing fine. If you're ready, just go ahead and let go. Cum if you need to." I cried, "Uh... uh... UH... UH! Fuck! your ass is... the... most... amazing... thing... EVER!" Waves of pleasure washed over me, cascading from head to toe and back again before coming together in a single point � my cock! I knew that I'd orgasmed before. But nothing, nothing in my whole life, had ever made me feel as good as I did at that moment in time. All my earlier orgasms were like a pale shadow of this one, like they'd been mere reflections or illusions and this was the real thing. My whole body seemed to contract and then to release the tension. And it didn't just happen once. It happened over and over again. Masturbation had never felt like this, and neither had Steven's mouth. At one point, I think I actually saw stars. I don't know when I started crying, but when the last of my seed had pumped out into Steven's tight ass, there were tears streaming down my face. I looked down at Steven's cock, still hard and throbbing across his six-pack abs. I started sobbing, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't... You didn't cum." Steven pulled himself off my dick and wrapped his arms around me. They felt so strong and masculine on my smooth, hairless skin. "Shh. Don't worry about it, baby. That's okay. Your cock felt wonderful inside me. You're overwhelmed right now. But. you don't need to worry because I know just how to fix this. I know how much you love my cock inside you..." I nodded, still blinking away tears, "... and I know that getting some perspective on your feelings will help. So how about I slide into that sweet ass of yours and balance those feelings for my beautiful baby?" He lay me down on the bed and pressed slippery fingers against my hole. He'd already fucked me tonight, so it didn't take much before I was ready for him. He moved between my legs and pressed inside me with gentle but irresistible force. My mind started to focus even before he kissed my tears away. I took a deep breath. "I know I wasn't very good. That was too fast and..." "...and it's not like I'm never going to cum again. In fact,I'm going to cum in just a minute or two, right here in your sweet hole. Your cock felt great inside me, studling, and I want to feel it again, eventually, many many times over. But, it takes practice to be as studly as I am," he flashed me a smile and a wink, "and we both know that this right here is how it was meant to be, my cock buried inside you. Shh, it's okay baby boy. You had an emotional experience and now you're full of self-doubt. But you're going to have to listen to your man when he tells you to not worry about all that. I'm telling you that you were great." Steven always knew what to say to make me feel better. He pushed my legs apart with his knees and slowly sank his whole cock inside me. Then he wrapped his strong arms around me and pulled me tight against him. I lifted my legs and wrapped them around his waist. I didn't want to let him go. If I could hold him inside me forever, I'd be in heaven. "Not as good as you are, sir," I replied. Whenever I got too emotional or needy, calling him "sir" always seemed right to me. Steven kissed my nose and teased, "Not too many people are, Damian." "Cocky bastard!" I said. "And that's what you love about me." "Damn right, sir!" Steven's cock filled me up and made me feel complete. He moved expertly inside me, brushing my prostate with each thrust. I melted into him, letting him take the lead completely. He was kissing me when he came. Then we lay together, arm in arm for an hour or so, gently caressing one another. Steven We woke up late and showered together. Damian posted some of the selfies from yesterday to Instagram so everyone would think we were at the races again today. We went swimming again, but the pool was full of families so we couldn't get expressive. Then we lay out in the sun to dry. It wouldn't be too long before it was too cold for that. We were going to meet Jordan and drive out to the college so he could show us around. I put on a black athletic cut polo shirt and jeans. I wore my athletic shoes. Damian took more time to choose. He'd put on a pair of hot pink high rise briefs and a tight pink tee-shirt with a camouflage pattern. I walked over and wrapped one arm around his shoulders and used the other to stroke his firm ass. "That's a daring look, but, sadly, you're going to need to put on some pants if we're going out in public." He leaned back against me and said, "If you don't stop touching my butt, we're going to be even later because you'll have to fuck me before we go." I smacked his butt and said, "Don't get too feisty with me, or I'll have to take you up on that." I let him go and he fished through his clothes until he decided on a pair of light blue distressed jeans and a shiny shirt in light green that was thin and silky. He left the top three buttons undone so the pink camo showed underneath, and my high school class ring was impossible to miss. Damian had decided on a pair of shocking pink socks which he wore under his deck shoes. He completed the look with his colorful bead bracelets, several of them on each wrist. Then he held his arms up and turned around for me. "Mm" I said, moving in to nuzzle his neck. "It takes a while, but I can't complain about the results." I took his hand and pressed it back against my erection. It was pushing hard against the button fly of my jeans. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders as we left the room. Damian had no fear of being outed here in Indianapolis because we were so far from everyone we knew. We got some looks when we walked through the lobby, but no comments. I held the door for him and put my hand on his back as he walked through. When we got to my car, I held the door for him while he climbed in. "You're treating me like we're on a date," he said. "Don't stop, please. I love it." "I have to stop when we get closer to home, but this is going to be us once you're out of the closet. I'm always going to treat you right and never let anyone doubt that you're mine." "Six weeks!" he exclaimed. "Just six weeks and then I'm going to let my family know." "And how do you feel about that?" I asked. He pursed his lips and shrugged. "I hope it will be okay. I love my family, but I need to be open and honest about who I am." "How do you think your family will take it?" I asked. Damian thought about it and then said, "I'm not sure. My dad sometimes acts like he knows, but then other times he's asking me about girls at school. My mom's really religious. She may suspect something because she keeps trying to find girls for me." "And your brothers and sisters?" Damian shrugged. "Well, you know I have four brothers and two sisters, all older than me. Frank and Ben are a lot older than me and we don't see them very often. I doubt they'd say anything unless I upset Mom too bad. "Catherine is even more religious than mom and I know she'll be upset, but she's married to a Baptist minister over in Evansville. She and mom argue about religion all the time, so maybe they could find common ground in disapproving of me. "Um... Michael already knows. I told him last year, but I did it under the seal of the confessional. He's cool with it. He's been counseling me and he's even more liberal on the issue than the current pope. I think he may be gay himself. He implied that a lot of gay men find fulfillment in the clergy. "I think James and Celia will be okay with it. James is in college and he makes a point of letting me know which of his friends are gay even if it isn't relevant to the story, and he gives me a look every time. And you know Celia. She's really into music and pop culture. She's the one who first showed me Lil Nas X and Troye Sivan." It sounded to me that James and Celia already knew. She probably even knew about me and her brother. She'd been... insistent in school. I'd been forced to tell her I was gay to convince her that we weren't going to be a couple. She'd kept my secret for two years. "Hey! That doesn't seem so bad. And if worse comes to worse, you can move in with me. My dad likes you," I said. "Thank you so much, Steven. That means a lot to me." ********** We picked Jordan up at his house and then allowed him to show us around the IUPUI campus. There weren't many students there on the Sunday of a three-day weekend, but we were able to get a look at the buildings and facilities. Everything seemed nice. I was able to see some of the student photography work, and it inspired me to take a series of photos of Damian around campus. He was naturally photogenic and seemed to pose with a casual ease that made me a little envious. I got a picture of him laying sideways on a bench under a tree, and another of him sprawled on the grass with his hands tucked behind his neck. He was smiling up at the camera and I wanted to jump on him and take him right there in full view of all who would be lucky enough to see us. I took pictures of him in the student union and leaping into the air to catch a frisbee some college guy had thrown with too much force for his friend to catch it. "Did you see how hot that guy who threw the frisbee was?" Jordan asked. "Huh?" I asked, snapping a few pictures of Damian as he ran back toward us. "Dude, you're mooning over Damian worse than you did after Kieran," Jordan said. "I can't blame you. He's sexy and he's totally in love with you, not so asexual, like your last love." "What makes you say that?" "About Kieran's asexuality, or about you being infatuated with Damian?" I shrugged. "Both I guess." "Well, you're so caught up in your blond high schooler that you didn't even notice how hot that guy is. That guy, the one with the low slung shorts and no shirt." He directed my attention back to the guys with the frisbee. Then he said, "As for Kieran. That boy had an almost supernatural way of avoiding me. He always managed to pull away when I tried to casually brush against his ass, even when his back was turned. I put it to the test. No matter how sneaky I was, he always turned at just the right moment so that I couldn't put a finger on him in a way that wasn't obvious." "Are you saying he had a sixth sense that warned him whenever you were about to creep on him?" "If you want to put it that way, yes." Damian had run back to a building to get a drink from the water fountain outside the wall. I was staring at him, but I asked Jordan, "What's going on with you? Are you with Sylvia or Silas?" He poked my arm and said, "What would you say if I said I was fucking them both?" That got my attention. I turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow. "Boy-girl twins? Bless your depraved little heart." Dylan Sitting through church was easier when I was with Kurt and Mr. Groth. Somehow Dad's snide homophobia didn't wound me so badly. Mr. Groth would put a hand on my shoulder and give it a squeeze. It reminded me that someone loved me. After the service, my mother came over to me and adjusted my collar. It wasn't like it was crooked. Kurt would never let me go out looking sloppy. But she pulled me aside. "You look good, Dylan." "Thank you, Mom." She seemed nervous or anxious for some reason. "Um. How are you? Are you happy, Dylan?" "I'm really happy, Mom. I... why do you ask?" It was like she wanted to say something but couldn't bring herself to do it. She sighed and waved her hand in front of my face. "Don't tell me any details. I... I can't handle that right now. I just want to know that you're happy with... whatever you may be doing right now." "I am, Mom. Trust me, I am." She closed her eyes for a moment and said, "You and Kurt are very close these days. Is it...? Um... it's not... it's not Mr. Groth you've gotten so close to is it?" "Oh no! No! Mr. Groth isn't... well he doesn't do anything. He's like..." I hesitated, afraid to say what I wanted to say, afraid she would be upset, but she finished my thought for me. "He's like a father to you. I think I've always known that he was looking out for you over the years." I nodded. "He is. I hate to say it because it makes me sound disloyal." She put a hand on my cheek and asked, "How is he?" "Mr. Groth is fine, Mom." "No. Sorry. How is... Cory?" I'd promised Mr. Groth I wouldn't say anything about my uncle being around to either of my parents. But there was no way I could lie to Mom's face, not when she was being so genuine with me. I nodded and said, "He's fine, Mom." "Is he happy?" "Yes, he is. He's doing good and he's happy." She smiled at me and said, "Tell him... no, don't say anything! Thank you. And Dylan, you can stay with Kurt until 10:00 p.m. tomorrow. And please tell him to stop being so... affectionate in the car when he drops you off." My ears turned red as I nodded my agreement. Then she surprised me by kissing my cheek. She'd never been very demonstrative in the past. When I walked back over to Kurt, he was giving me a quizzical look. I shrugged and whispered, "She seemed unusually nice." "What did she want?" he asked. "Let's see. It's clear that she knows what we're doing because she asked if I was happy with you. Then she said that I can stay at your house later tomorrow, so long as I'm home by 10:00 p.m. Oh, and she asked me about Cory." Kurt put his hands on my shoulders and stared into my eyes. "You didn't admit he was at our house, did you? Dad told us she couldn't know. You remember what happened last time." "I'm a terrible liar. I couldn't have pulled it off if I tried, and she wasn't mad. She wanted to know if he was happy. I told her that he was, and she smiled at me. There's something weird going on with her." "Maybe she's finally becoming human," Kurt said. We were heading out. Dad and Mr. Groth had already gone to the Church Council meeting and Tommy was in the back courtyard hanging out with some of his obnoxious friends waiting for everyone to leave so he could clean the church. Before we got to the front door, Mr. Williams called us over. He was the technical guy who kept all the recording equipment running. We'd avoided him last weekend, but there was no way to do so today. Mr. Williams was about ten years younger than my dad, putting him somewhere in his thirties. He had dark blond hair and a neatly trimmed beard. He wore his hair in a very short buzz cut. He wasn't ugly, but he wasn't an attractive guy by any stretch of the imagination. We followed him into the room that served as his office and the control room for the electronics. It was upstairs over the back room where the chorus assembled. There was a one way window that allowed him to look out over the chapel. He took the only chair in the room, leaving me and Kurt to stand. "What did you need, sir?" Kurt asked. Mr. Williams flipped a switch and a video started playing. My blood ran cold. It was the video Kurt and I had recorded in the church. I was lying on the altar masturbating while Kurt encouraged me. I had no idea why we'd done it. It was stupid and dangerous; and apparently Mr. Williams had been in the booth, recording us. The video Kurt had made didn't show him because he'd taken it with his phone, but this one showed us both. He allowed the entire video to play before he turned to face us. My ears were burning and Kurt looked like he was in shock. "What do you have to say for yourselves, boys?" I started to say something, but Kurt interrupted me. "There's nothing we can say. The video speaks for itself. You must want something, or you would have already shown this to the pastor." Mr. Williams nodded. "Smart boy. Let me tell you what's going to happen. You boys are going to suck my dick and then I'm going to fuck you. And not just once. We're going to set up a schedule and you boys are going to take care of me on a regular basis." "No! Ma... Kurt doesn't do that kind of thing. I'll do whatever you want. Just leave him out of it." Kurt put his arm around my shoulders and said, "Shh. I'm a part of this too. You wouldn't have done it if I hadn't made you." He turned toward Mr. Williams and said, "This isn't right. It's blackmail and you could go to jail for it." Mr. Williams leaned back in his chair and smiled. "Could, but I won't because neither of you are going to say anything. I have no idea what your Dad would do to you, Kurt, but the Pastor would skin you alive, Dylan. Or he'd send you to one of those conversion camps. You boys like cock and I like getting my cock sucked, so this is a win-win deal." I interrupted Kurt this time. "Kurt isn't the one who likes cock. That's me. Just use me and leave him alone!" Mr. Williams said, "Damn, Kurt. Your little boyfriend seems willing to do anything to protect you. Well, I'm not unreasonable. I still need you to get naked while I'm fucking your boyfriend, but I won't make you suck my dick.. not yet anyway." "Can we think about it?" Kurt asked. Mr. Williams shook his head. "Nope. There's nothing to think about. Either you get naked, and Dylan starts sucking my dick in the next minute or I show this video to the pastor." He set a timer on his cellphone and sat it down on the table. I looked over at Kurt. I'd never seen him like this. His mouth was set in anger, but his eyes were moist with tears. I realized that he didn't know what to do. He was as lost as I was. I kicked off my shoes. "It's okay, Master. This is something I can do for you." I pulled my clothes off and knelt on the carpet in front of Mr. Williams. He unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down, exposing his cock. I would have thought it was big if I hadn't seen Kurt's. It was twice the length of mine and easily twice as wide. "Suck it!" I took hold of his hard cock and wrapped my lips around the head. Despite the circumstances, my dick got hard. I was embarrassed. I felt like I was betraying Kurt, but seeing any cock, or even a hint of a cock, made me hard. Putting one in my mouth made me unbearably hard, even one I hated as much as I hated Mr. Williams right then. "It's too bad that I'm going to have to share the video. I assume the pastor's son is your slave from the way he calls you master. He has a sweet mouth, but you're still fully clothed." I saw Kurt removing his clothes out of the corner of my eye. I swallowed as much of Mr. William's cock as I could before I started gagging. There was about two inches left, which wasn't surprising, I could never get the last four inches of Kurt's cock into my throat either. Mr. Williams reached over and took hold of Kurt's cock. "Damn you're a big boy, Kurt. I thought I had a king size cock, but yours is a monster. I know what we can do with you. While I'm getting blow by your boyfriend or fucking him, I'm going to play with your cock and ass." Kurt didn't resist, but he said nothing. I concentrated on the cock in my mouth. It wasn't enough for Mr. Williams. He slapped Kurt's head and said, "Answer me when I talk to you, boy, and you'd better remember to call me `sir'." "Yes, sir," Kurt said. I could tell he wasn't happy with it. "Mm. I like that. Now force your boyfriend's face all the way down. I want to feel his nose pressing into my pubes in thirty seconds." "Yes, sir," Kurt replied. Then I felt his hands on the back of my head. He whispered, "I'm sorry, Dylan." I tried to tell him with my eyes that it was okay. He pushed my head down and held it while I choked and gagged. He let my head up so I could breathe and then pushed me down again. I gagged and mucus poured out of my throat, all over Mr. Williams dick. Kurt bent down and put his arm around my shoulders. I whispered, "It's okay, Master. Just help me get through this quickly." Kurt guided my mouth back down on Mr. William's dick. With Kurt's arms around me, I was able to relax. I gagged a few more times, but eventually I got to the point where I could take him without gagging. When he came in my mouth, I dutifully swallowed his cum. Then I stood up. Mr. Williams was wiping a soiled finger across Kurt's face. "Now get dressed. And when I see you boys back here on Tuesday night, your asses better be clean or you'll both be sorry," he threatened. He made us give him our cell phone numbers and then we left. On the way to the car I put my finger on Kurt's face to wipe away the brown smear, but he grabbed my hand. "Don't!" he said. "If I let you clean it I would feel so much better, but I don't want to calm down right now. I want to be reminded of how angry I am. I'll clean it when we get home." Kurt was quiet as he drove me back to his house so I could get ready for work. He still wasn't in the mood to talk when we walked into the house. He slammed the door behind us and then turned and punched it so hard that the thump could be heard echoing around the room. I didn't know what to do so I ran in front of him and flung myself on the floor, pressing my face to the carpet. I was scared, not of Kurt - he'd never hurt me - but for Kurt. I was afraid he was going to do something that he would regret. I was a little hurt when he walked past me into the bathroom. I could hear water running for a few minutes. Then he came back into the room and let out a weary sigh. "Get up, Dylan." My eyes were watering when I stood up. Dylan grabbed me and hugged me tight against his chest. "I'm sorry, Master," I said but Kurt couldn't hear me because he was talking at the same time. "I'm sorry, Dylan. That man forced you to blow his nasty dick and it's all my fault. I never should have gotten you to expose yourself like that. I don't know what I can do." I sobbed against his chest. "No, I'm sorry, Master. I thought you were mad at me for getting us in this situation and then jumping in and offering to blow Mr. Williams." Kurt pulled me over to the sofa and held me gently on his lap. "No! It was me who caused this problem and if you hadn't jumped in and tried to save me there in the control booth, I would have punched him in his stupid beardy face and then we'd both be in more trouble than we are." I sat there and let Kurt hold me. I buried my face in his chest and breathed in his scent. It calmed me a little. "We have to do what he says, Master." Kurt stroked my hair and said, "I know, Dylan. I know. We'll figure something out. But we'll have to go along with him until we do." "I didn't want him to do anything to you, Master," I said. "That's why I volunteered to suck his dick." Kurt kissed my nose and said, "And I thank you for that, sweet little Slave Boy, but he's not going to stop. He already fingered my ass the whole time I was forcing your head down on his cock. If he fucks me, he fucks me. I'll get him back. If we don't figure it out before then, I'm going to accuse him of rape and blackmail as soon as you turn eighteen. I just can't risk your dad sending you away." "I don't ever want to leave you," I said. "And I'm never going to let that happen. I'm going to keep you safe and secure with me no matter what it takes." "Are you going to tell your dad?" "No way. He'll be pissed at me for exposing you like I did. I'll talk to Steven on Monday night. He'll help me figure out something. In the meantime, never think I'll be mad at you for doing what you have to do." I wanted to tell him about Tommy, but I didn't. I'd kept meaning to bring it up all weekend, but I just couldn't get the words out. I decided he had enough to worry about with Mr. Williams. Tommy was my problem. I'd figure that one out. We sat there as long as we could. Then I got ready for work and Kurt drove me. Characters ● Bethany Morgan. The mother of the Morgan kids and the wife of the pastor. She's a passive-aggressive woman and a homophobe. She's 44 at the start of the story. ● Cory Lundgren. Bethany's youngest brother. He's short, blond, and blue-eyed, like Dylan. He stands 5 foot 7 inches tall and weighs 150 pounds. He's fourteen years younger than his sister. He was thrown out of the house for being gay when he was 18. He's 30 years old at the beginning of the story. Corwin Alan Lundgren. He works as Mr. Groth's assistant, but he's secretly his slave. ● Craig Morgan. The pastor. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 160 pounds. He's thin and mean, with a sour expression. Although secretly gay, he married Bethany Lundgren to cover it up. He and his younger brother Kenneth Morgan (Kieran's father) never got along. He took Kieran in when his parents died. He's 45 at the start of the story. ● Damian Wilder. High school senior who is 17 at the beginning of the story. He's 6 foot tall, handsome, with a dark tan, green eyes with tiny flecks of gold, a snub nose, and a broad mouth. He's Steven's occasional lover who would like to be more. He's on the swim and diving teams. ● Donald Morgan. The oldest Morgan son. He's 5 foot 11 inches tall and weighs 180 pounds. He's heavy-set but strong. He has dark red hair and a lot of freckles. But they look good on him. He's mean-spirited and domineering, and he made his brother Dylan's life hard. ● Dylan Morgan. The main character who is the middle son in the Growth household. At 17, he was 5 foot 5 inches tall and weighed 130 pounds. He has blond hair and blue eyes. He's submissive and has dreamed of being his best friend's slave since middle school. ● Elizabeth Jepps. She's the only Morgan daughter. She's much like her mother. She's seven years older than Dylan. She got married at 18 to get out of the house. They rarely see her except at church. She's married to Jerry Jepps. ● Edgar Williams. The sound and video technician at Pastor Morgan's church. He's 35 years old with brown hair. He has an average build. ● Fred Nelson. A twenty-eight-year-old salesman at Groth automotive who seems very interested in Dylan (and Aaron). ● Greg Miller. A blond athlete, a senior in high school. He's one of Kurt's closest friends. He plays on the football team with Kurt. He's tall, thick bodied with muscle, and strong. Dylan has always felt that Greg didn't like him and was trying to undermine his friendship with Kurt. ● Jerry Jepps. He's the husband of Elizabeth Morgan-Jepps. He's six years older than his wife and thirteen years older than Dylan. He works as a manager at the Farm and Feed store. ● Kurt Groth. He's the youngest Groth boy, only a few months younger than Dylan. His mother was black, so his skin is much darker than his father. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 175 pounds. He muscular but less bulky than his father. He has medium brown skin and black hair with tight curls. He wears it medium length on top with a low fade. He is bisexual, but he's in love with his best friend Dylan. He wants to dominate him totally and own him as a slave. ● Roger Groth. Owner of Groth Automobiles, Groth Farm Equipment, and several properties around town. He's forty years old and has two sons, Steven, and Kurt. He stands 6 foot tall and weighs 200 pounds of solid muscle. He has light brown hair and fair skin. His wife died 15 years ago, and he's been Cory's master for the last 12. ● Steven Groth. The oldest of the two Groth boys. He stands 6 foot 4 inches tall and weighs 190 pounds. He has light brown skin and wavy black hair that he wears very short. He was a swimmer in high school and keeps his body shaved even after graduation. He has light amber eyes. He was in love with Kieran Morgan all through high school and he regrets not pressing Kieran to come out of the closet when they were in school together. He's a year older than Dylan and Kurt. ● Thomas Morgan. The youngest Morgan son. He's two years younger than Dylan but he's about the same size. He has bright red hair, pale skin and a lot of freckles. He joins in with his oldest brother teasing and tormenting Kieran and Dylan.

Subsets and Splits