[Note: In Parts 1 and 2 of this story, I recounted how I fell in with guys out on the trail who raped me, beat me, and made me promise to come out again so they could do it some more. I also told you how I probably incited that by getting turned on. Looking back on it, I'm sure that's part of the reason the guys raped me so enthusiastically. I'm more and more wondering about whether it's even correct to call it 'rape', given how I reacted.
Everything I wrote about in those earlier parts happened in a single Saturday afternoon, shortly after the beginning of my senior year in high school two years ago. What I'm going to tell you about now happened the next few days. I think this is the hardest time to write about. Especially what happened Sunday. That's the day I've tried hardest to forget, the one where I screwed up the most.
Same disclaimers and warning as in earlier parts. I won't repeat them here. I assume you've read the earlier parts if you're reading this. As before, this is a true story. I'm writing it for personal reasons, as explained earlier.
We (that's me and my partner Jeb) would really appreciate your comments. You can send mail either to me or to Jeb. His address is jeb_loves_alan@hotmail. com.]
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There wasn't as much feedback on Part 2 as Jeb and I expected. I don't know whether that's because what I wrote was boring and or too long, or because readers decided my reporting was reasonably honest and not in need of correction. Whatever the reason, both Jeb and I were disappointed not to have more readers telling him to punish me. Jeb finally decided it must have been my fault for writing the story badly, and so punished me for the lack of response.
I said last time that I kind of like being caned, but certainly not for such an embarrassing reason. Please send us feedback if you have any reaction at all to this story, even if it's just to say that you think I'm a stupid sh_i_t and really need to have my ass beaten. Tell us the story is lousy and badly written, if that's what you think. Any reaction is better than none.
We got several responses that were critical, some that weren't. Thanks especially to Cal, Jay, and an unidentified writer. They basically agreed with my own conclusion that I deserved punishment for what I'd done, and told Jeb to give me more. Thanks to Ward, too, for his encouragement (though not his doubts). A couple of other guys held back on being specific about what Jeb should do, so Jeb gave me an extra dozen hard ones on behalf of them. All the canings hurt like hell when he gave them to me, but it feels good now. Thanks, guys.
This may sound silly, but I really am grateful to Jeb for caning me and to the guys who asked for that. Every stroke I get on my ass is one more payment for what happened out there. Maybe, if I pay enough, I can stop feeling so guilty about what I did. So PLEASE WRITE AND TELL US WHAT YOU THINK. You're doing me a huge favor if you tell Jeb to beat me. He loves doing it to me, so he won't mind. As a matter of fact, I think he's getting really turned on by interacting with you guys. He's grinning and nodding agreement as I tell him what I just wrote.
He's not so pleased with what I've written in this part. I'll tell you about that after I finish writing about what happened.
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[16] . [Sunday, Sept. 15: Next morning]
My memory of that first encounter was vivid for a long time. For several days, my ass was so sore that it was painful to sit. I couldn't even run, which really pissed off our coach. He couldn't understand why I skimped on training and wouldn't give him a reason. I didn't train at all for the first two days. And even over the rest of the week, I couldn't face running hard. My buttocks, thighs, and rectum were just too sore and bruised.
It would have been bad enough if it had just been what happened that first Saturday. But that was exacerbated by what happened the following day, when I got it all over again.
Oh, I know what you're thinking. You're expecting me to tell you that I succumbed to their threats. That I went out to meet Tom and Phil on the trail, as I'd promised them, and got my ass massacred again, as they'd promised me. They'd told me what they were going to do. If what Kevin told me was true, they might even bring one of their friends to join in the fun. I had no illusions about what would happen. They'd make me screw up somehow, cut a switch, and really give it to me on my ass before raping me. My buttocks were already bruised to hell. They'd just take the bruising a little further. No surprise, right?
Well, wrong!! That's not what happened at all. Oh, I got beaten and raped, all right. But it wasn't those guys. It was worse, a completely different set of guys. Neighbors, this time. Guys who knew me.
Unbelievable? Is it ever! I still don't understand what happened that Sunday. Oh, I can put down the facts of what happened. That's easy enough. But I absolutely don't understand how I could have been so stupid as to allow more guys to catch me.
It would have been bad enough to have been raped and beaten by Tom and his friends. But to put myself in a position that allowed a new group of guys to rape me? And to identify me as a willing _s_e_x toy for other sadists looking for teenage prey? That was unbelievably stupid and reckless. I paid for that stupidity many times over during subsequent weeks.
So how did it happen?
I woke up after ten that morning, way later than I'd meant to. It was much too late to meet Tom and the others out in the hills at the appointed time. I decided I just wasn't meant to meet them again. There certainly was no way I'd go out there now. I'd be over an hour late. And I knew what they'd promised for my ass if I were even a minute late. There was no way I could take that kind of punishment. Once they started in on me like that, I knew they'd not stop.
I hadn't wanted to meet them. I'd made that promise unwillingly, intending at the time not to honor it. They'd threatened dire consequences if I didn't, giving me a severe beating with a switch to demonstrate just how dire the consequences would be. And Kevin had shaken my confidence in my ability to avoid them. So I'd thought a lot about whether I should meet them. I couldn't face the prospect of getting it again, let along getting it again so soon. But I couldn't face what they'd do to me if I didn't meet them, either. I'd kept vacillating about what to do, not sure whether the risk of being caught again by them was high enough to warrant accepting the certain punishment I'd get if I did go out there again.
So it was kind of neat when I woke up and discovered that it was already too late to go there. I was glad. Sleeping in had made that decision for me. I knew I'd have to be super careful to avoid being in places where they might catch me alone and snatch me. But the more I thought about it, the more confident I felt that I could evade them. In any case, the decision had been made, and I felt relieved. I decided to enjoy what I could of the day.
Even if I'd woken up in time, I don't think I could have brought myself to meet them. When I looked at my ass in the mirror, I was shocked by how ugly the bruises looked. My buttocks and thighs looked bad, just like they felt. There was almost no part of my ass, even between my legs, that looked good. The switch had left dark welts and scabs that stood out dramatically. Almost everything hurt when touched. Getting more on top of that would have been unthinkable. At least that's what I thought right then.
I ate breakfast standing up and soon afterwards left the house, hiking up into the hills to get away. Mrs. Grundy said I was a fool to go out on my own so soon again after falling. But I went out anyway. I had to. I couldn't have stayed around the house without advertising how badly I was hurting. As it was, my baby sister was already suspicious. Her antennae had always been super-sensitive to when I felt guilt or was hiding something.
I was desperately keen to make sure my family didn't find out what had happened. I knew how much they'd be shocked if they ever found out what I'd done, and had just no idea how they'd react. I just had to keep what happened secret. What Kevin had told me about his parents' reaction had left me very scared.
I knew my parents loved me, but I wasn't the son they loved any more. Not after what had happened out there. I'd gotten turned on by the gay s_e_x and had even enjoyed being _f_u_cked. Some of it, anyway. Oh, sure, I'd taken a lot of pain. But my memory of that paled beside the immorality of what I'd enjoyed. I deserved every bit of pain I'd experienced for letting myself do that.
I could easily see my parents reacting with the same disgust that Kevin's parents had. My parents were respected members of a church that condemned anything smacking of overt s_e_xuality. Anything gay was anathema, accursed in the eyes of God. And my dad wasn't just a member of the church, he was an elder. If what I'd done ever became known, I didn't see how my parents could possibly keep me in their home. The shame would be just too great.
I climbed up to an isolated spot in the hills close to home, where I stayed for several hours. Mostly, I just lay on my belly over a rock, thinking and dreaming more nightmares while I kept my buttocks from touching the rock. I kept alternating between imagining what Tom and Phil would do to me if they ever succeeded in capturing me again and wondering how I'd survive if my parents did throw me out on the street. It wasn't hard to imagine what another beating with that switch would feel like. That was easier than figuring out how I'd survive on my own, without my parents' love and support.
I felt totally debased and humiliated, as much because of what I'd done as because of what Tom and the others had done to me. I cursed myself for following Kevin down into that clearing. It was my curiosity that had got me into this. My curiosity about what it would be like to be _f_u_cked. I know a number of you have written telling me that what happened was my own fault. The more I think about it, the more I think you're right. I wanted to know what it was like. And so I found out.
After a while, I decided it would be better to move around, rather than just lying on the rock feeling sorry for myself. So I picked myself up and walked along the trail, walking south towards Greenville's center.
By this time it was mid-afternoon, and the pain in my buttocks wasn't too bad. But I could still feel the sensations of their pricks inside me. That had to be totally mental, for I'd flushed myself out enumerable times since coming home the previous night. But, at that moment, I was incapable of thinking clearly. My feelings of guilt made me feel unclean. Curiously, thinking about their pricks inside me also made me feel strangely excited. I suddenly felt a strong urge to flush my ass out again.
Where I was, the trail went along the side of the hills, close to residential areas. After a while, I came to a path that went down to a cottage I'd looked at previously. I knew the cottage was unoccupied and had no close neighbors. I decided to check it out.
I went down the path. When I got to the cottage, I could see a hose lying by its side which looked perfect for what I had in mind. I walked around the cottage to make sure no one was around. There was no sign of any recent occupation. The grass was uncut. The garden looked abandoned.
I walked up on the porch and peered in the windows. There was no furniture inside, no sign of occupation. When it was clear that the house was empty, I checked whether the faucet by the hose could be turned on. Water came out, so I peeled off my clothes and shoes, left them on the porch, and stuck the hose up my ass. I turned the water on and pushed the hose up into my rectum, closing my eyes as the water flushed out my rectum.
The water felt good. And so did the hose. I quickly got a hard-on as I rubbed it up and down inside my ass. I started jerking myself off, still holding the hose inside me, with my eyes closed and the water flowing.
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[17] . [New friends]
"What the _f_u_ck are you doing?"
I opened my eyes in shock. Two guys stood behind me, grinning at me. I hadn't heard them come.
"Look at that prick" one of them laughed. "He sure gets off on this."
The two guys looked a couple of years older than me. As I looked at them, I recognized one. He'd graduated from my high school the year before.
He suddenly recognized me. "Hey, I know you!" he grinned. "You're Alan Bryant!" He turned to his friend. "He was in the class behind me."
His friend was looking me all over. "Did you know he was gay, Brian?"
Brian shook his head. "No, I had no idea." He looked at me, grinning as he turned the water off. "I wish I'd known about this earlier, Alan."
"I'm not gay!" I said quietly, blushing in embarrassment as I pulled the hose out. "I was just flushing myself out."
"Oh sure" Brian's friend grinned. "That hard-on is just a coincidence."
"I'm sorry! I didn't think anyone was around."
"That's okay, kid. We won't tell anyone what you like up your ass."
"You thinking the same thing I am?" Brian laughed.
"Probably" the other one grinned. "He sure has a nice ass. Any chance of your parents showing up?"
"Nah, they've stopped trying to rent it. The place has been empty all summer. That's why I figured we should come. I never expected this bit of luck."
By this time, they were on either side of me, both grinning in anticipation. I turned to where my clothes were.
"Don't bother with them" the older guy grinned, moving towards me.
"Come on, guys" I pleaded. "Don't fool around, okay?"
He laughed. "We're not fooling around, kid. We're going to take a look at that gay ass of yours, see if it's as fu_c_kable as I think it is."
I shook my head fearfully. "Please don't do that. I'm not gay. Not at all, honest!"
"Oh, sure" he grinned. "You just like getting your ass _f_u_cked." He grabbed my arm. "Grab him, Brian. Let's put him down on the porch."
Brian grabbed my other arm.
"Please! Leave me alone!"
I tried to break away, but was no match for them. They were both taller and heavier than me. They forced me over to the porch and bent me down over its edge.
"Look at his ass!" Brian exclaimed. "Someone really did a number on him!"
"Sure did!" his friend smiled. "Your dad do this to you, kid?"
"No! My dad would never beat me!"
"He just _f_u_cks you?"
"No! Don't say things like that!"
"I know his dad, Paul. He's an elder in our church."
Paul shrugged. "That doesn't make him a saint, Brian. Even church elders have been known to play around."
"He wouldn't _f_u_ck his own kid."
"Someone has. Isn't that right, kid?"
"No!" I was struggling to get out of their grip. "Let me up! Please!"
"Who beat you, kid?"
"Just some guys. It was a game."
"Yeah, sure. What happened? Weren't you putting out for them?" He shoved a finger into my anus. "This hole has been used. They _fu_c_ked you, didn't they?"
"No!" I had no idea how he could tell anything from feeling my asshole. "Let me go!"
"Don't lie to us, kid. I bet you've given your ass to half the neighborhood."
"I'm not lying! And I haven't!" I sobbed in shame as Paul pushed another finger in. "Please don't do this! You've got totally the wrong idea about me."
He snorted. "I don't think so. Get over him and hold him down, Brian."
Brian took my other arm and straddled me, bending both of my arms as far up as he could behind my back. I twisted and turned, struggling to escape, but that just made him twist my arms up even further. Brian had been a running back on the school football team and was a lot stronger than me.
"Please let me go! You're hurting me!"
Brian laughed. "Don't struggle so much."
Paul was behind me now, pulling my asshole open with his thumbs.
"Please!" I begged. "That hurts!"
Paul shoved several fingers in between his thumbs, stretching my anus painfully.
"Don't do that! Please!"
"Come on" Paul grinned, bunching his fingers up inside me. "You've had a lot more than this up your ass."
"No! Please! I'm not into this! Not at all!"
"So what's this?" Paul laughed, reaching between my legs.
I don't know what had made my prick stay hard. I was frightened and at the same time excited, maybe by what Paul's fingers were doing inside me. Whatever the reason, I was horribly embarrassed.
"I'm sorry" I sobbed in shame. "I can't help it."
"That's pretty obvious" he grinned. "You really must like getting it."
"No, I don't! Please, guys! Let me go, okay?"
Brian laughed. "I bet he gets it all the time."
"Probably" Paul smiled. "Who beat your ass and _f_u_cked you?"
"I don't know" I said, beginning to sob in embarrassment.
"Don't you even know their names?"
"No. I don't. They raped me!"
"So I was right" he smiled scornfully. "You have been _f_u_cked."
"I couldn't help it!"
"So why the punishment? What did you do, lead them on and then not put out?"
"No! It wasn't my fault! They made me do it! I had no choice!"
"He play around with guys at school?" Paul asked Brian.
"I don't know" Brian shrugged. "I thought he was straight."
"I am!" I sobbed. "Please, guys! I'm really not gay! You're making a mistake!"
"How many times have you been _f_u_cked?" Brian asked.
I blushed in embarrassment and didn't answer.
"He probably can't remember" Paul sneered, pushing his fingers in further. He was pushing all four fingers of his right hand into me now, alternatively clenching them and trying to push in further.
"Take them out!!" I begged, squirming and twisting as he pushed. "PLEASE!!!! THAT HURTS!!!"
Paul just pushed harder, grinning at my discomfort. "He's put out for someone, that's for sure. I bet he's had it a lot."
"NO!!!!" I moaned. "PLEASE!!!"
"Let's make him put out for us!" Brian grinned. "Hold him while I peel off my clothes. I can't wait!"
Paul took his fingers out and got up, holding me down while Brian stripped off his clothes and came behind me. I groaned in fear as I saw his prick. Brian was a little taller than me and had an impressive hard-on.
"Please, Brian!" I begged. "Don't do this! PLEASE!!!"
"F_u_ck you, kid!" Brian laughed. "If you're giving your ass to other guys, you sure as hell can give it to us!"
He grabbed my buttocks and pulled my ass open, spitting on his fingers to lubricate my asshole. I screamed as he spat on his prick and rammed it in.
"TAKE IT OUT!!!" I shrieked. "PLEASE!!!! THAT _F_U_CKING HURTS!!!!"
Paul grabbed my underpants from the porch. "Hold off while I gag him."
"Please, guys!" I begged. "Please don't do this! PLEASE!!!"
My last plea got quenched as Paul stuffed the briefs in my mouth.
"He's _f_u_cking tight!" Brian grinned. "You sure he's had it before?"
Paul laughed. "No question. He just told us, remember?"
"Wow!" Brian laughed. "He's _f_u_cking good! I can hardly get my prick in."
"He's playing with you. Ram it into him! F_u_ck him hard!"
Brian shoved in more spit and rammed in hard, plunging his prick deep into my rectum. I screamed into the gag as he raped me, as much from shame as from pain. The last thing I'd ever imagined is that guys who knew me would do this.
After Brian came, Paul raped me. Then Brian raped me again. When they finally let me up, I was sobbing in pain and degradation.
"Now he really needs that hose" Paul grinned.
"What do you mean?" Brian laughed. "Let him keep our cum. It'll remind him of what he'll get next time."
Paul shook his head. "Better to get rid of evidence. Hold him down."
Brian sat on my back while Paul got the hose and turned the water on. I screamed as he rammed the hose up my ass and held it there, flushing me out completely. He left it there for several minutes while I yelled pleas into the gag.
When he took it out, he aimed it at my ass, splashing Brian as well.
"Hey!" Brian yelled. "Take that away! You're getting me wet!"
"Stand up and get off the porch!" Paul ordered.
Brian stood on the grass while Paul washed his crotch.
"Now do the same to me and the kid." He glanced at me and gestured to the grass. "Get out on the grass."
I did that. Brian sprayed us both and then turned off the water. We all stood dripping on the grass.
Paul looked at me and grinned. "You're good, kid. We'll do this again."
"F_u_ck you!" I told him angrily. "You raped me! There's no way you're doing that again!"
"Hey! Show us some respect! You want me to put you over my knee?"
I looked at him in alarm but he was grinning. I figured he was joking. Thank God for that, I thought.
"I mean it, kid. Thank us for _f_u_cking your ass."
"F_u_ck you" I said curtly. "You raped me. I'm sure as hell not going to thank you for that."
Paul laughed. "I guess you do want it on your ass. Come over here, kid. Get down over my knee."
I looked at him bitterly. "No _f_u_cking way!"
"Hey! Where are your manners? Do what I tell you."
I shook my head and started towards my clothes. "I'm leaving."
"No, you're not." Paul grabbed my arm. "Grab his other arm, Brian. The kid needs a lesson."
"F_u_ck that!" I said angrily, struggling furiously. "Let me go!"
"You didn't thank us, kid. You've got to learn manners."
"F_u_ck you!"
He twisted my arm up behind me. "Gag him, Brian. Then go find a rope."
"No!" I yelled furiously. "Take your hands off me!" I was really angry now, at myself as well as him. "You've _f_u_cked me! What more do you want?"
I tried to twist away, but he held me too tightly. Brian got my briefs from the porch and stuffed them into my mouth again.
"Don't spit those out, kid, or you'll really get your ass beaten. Put your head between those porch rails."
I guess I'd been traumatized too much the day before to disobey. I let them guide my head through the porch rails and pull my arms forward.
"Keep your hands on the floor."
I did as he demanded, supporting myself on the floor while Brian went behind the house. Paul stood behind me, pushing down on my back with one hand, fondling my buttocks with the other.
"You really got a lot, didn't you" he grinned, feeling the welts. "What did this? A switch?"
I didn't answer. I couldn't say anything because of the gag, and wasn't about to respond with a nod.
"Not responsive? I bet that will change."
When Brian came back with a rope, they pulled my arms up over the porch rail above me. Paul held me in place while Brian tied the rope to each wrist under my chest. With my arms wrenched up above the rail and the rope pulling my wrists together under my belly, the rope pulled up my back tight against the rail, making me stretch up on my toes and push my ass up.
"Looks good!" Paul grinned at Brian. "Watch him while I go find something."
"You really going to beat his ass?" Brian grinned back.
"Sure. You saw his ass. He's had it before." He smiled at me. "You're provocative, kid. You ask for it like that with the other guys?"
I shook my head fervently, sobbing into the gag in fear.
"I bet you did."
He walked around behind the house and came back with a one-by-two board, a piece of wood about three feet long that was an inch thick and two inches wide, or at least had been before it was kiln-dried. He'd brought a roll of electrician's tape too.
Brian looked at him in surprise. "You going to use that on him?"
"Why not?" Paul grinned. "Just watch me." He used the tape to bind Brian's shorts in my mouth, stretching the tape around my head. "That's so he can't spit it out."
'Bastard!' I thought to myself, cursing myself for getting into this. I watched him take the board out to my side.
He reached forward with the board and touched my buttocks. "I bet you like getting this, kid."
I shook my head frantically, sobbing in fear as I watched him reach back. I screamed into the gag when he swung, shrieking a moment later when the one-by-two smashed into me. He'd hit me squarely across both buttocks.
"Wow!" Brian laughed. "That really leaves a mark!"
"That was nothing" Paul grinned. "This'll be even better."
He reached back and swung hard, this time hitting me a lot harder. I shrieked at the impact.
"Wow!" Brian laughed again. "Look at that mark on his ass! Is that ever red!"
"Yeah" Paul grinned. "It looks good on that ass, doesn't it?"
"It sure does. I never figured you could do that much with such a small board."
"Oh, the board's not all that small" Paul laughed. "And the kid has just the right ass for it. Look at him dance! He sure is a _f_u_cking turn-on."
"He sure is" Brian nodded. "It's no wonder he keeps getting it."
I shrieked and sobbed as he kept smashing blows into me, jerking and trying to twist away as blow after blow landed on me. He kept going a long time, easily giving me another fifteen or twenty blows. He kept smashing the board into me all over my buttocks and thighs, pulverizing the bruises from what I'd received the previous day. The pain was really bad.
"F_u_ck!" he suddenly grinned. "This is too much of a turn-on."
He threw down the board and lunged into me, ramming his prick into my asshole. I screamed into the gag as he plunged in and kept lunging. Once he'd pushed his prick all the way in, it wasn't too bad. It hurt, but not so much as the first time.
"God!" he exulted. "This kid is so _f_u_cking good!"
Suddenly, his lunges speeded up. "F_U_CK!!!" he yelled. "I'M CUMMING!!!"
I sobbed as I felt him come.
"That was even better the second time!" Paul grinned as he pulled out. "You want to give him some with the board too?"
Brian shook his head. "He's had enough."
"No _f_u_cking way!" Paul laughed. He picked up the board. "Right, kid?"
I screamed into the gag as he smashed it into me.
"Jesus, this turns me on."
I shrieked and sobbed as he kept doing it.
"F_U_CK!!!!" he laughed. "I'm going to _f_u_ck_ him again!"
I screamed as he rammed into me again. With all his jism inside me, his prick went in easily. I arched up in shock as it rammed all the way in.
He lunged for a long time before he finally came. At least, it seemed like a long time. His lunges really hurt.
"Jesus!" he grinned as he climbed off. "That was incredible! I've not come like that for months!"
Brian was looking at him in amazement. "I never knew you could come like that. Sh_i_t, Paul! That's three times you came!"
"He's _f_u_cking good" Paul laughed. "God! I can't wait to see what Bruce and Dave do with that ass. I bet they'll really beat the crap out of him."
"Or Rafe" Brian added.
"Yeah" Paul grinned. "Jesus! That'll be something else." He looked at me and laughed. "Boy! Am I ever glad you got me to come here! This kid is a real find."
"When are you going to tell the others about him?"
"Oh, I don't know. I'd kind of like to keep him for myself for a while." He smiled as he looked down on me. "I bet he'd like a momento of this. I'll go look for something." He glanced back at Brian. "You're sure you don't want to give him some with the board while I do that?"
Brian shook his head. "What are you going to get?"
"Something to shove up his ass."
"Sh_i_t!" Brian said scornfully. "What for? He doesn't need that."
"I want him to remember this" Paul smiled. "I know what to get."
Paul went behind the house again.
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[18] . [Paul's fun]
Brian picked up the board but then put it down again, coming around in front of me to look at me.
"You okay, Alan? That looked like it really hurt."
I nodded as I sobbed. Thanks to what I'd received the previous day, my ass had been excruciatingly tender. Paul's beating had been painful. And his rape had really hurt.
Brian reached forward. "I'll take this out."
He stripped the tape open and took out the gag, looking at me curiously.
"Your ass sure is red. You get it like that before?"
I shrugged, still sobbing in pain. In some ways, the board was worse. Worse than the strap had been, anyway. It had really hit deeply.
"Those bruises on your ass and thighs. Were they really from other guys beating you?"
I nodded.
He touched one of the welts the switch had left on my buttocks. "This still shows through what Paul gave you. What did they use on you? Was it as bad as what Paul gave you?"
"It was worse" I sobbed, remembering the switch. "They cut a switch and used that on me. That was really bad."
"No kidding! You get that a lot?"
Just then Paul came back. "What's he telling you?"
"I just asked him what it was like. He says he's had much worse from the other guys that have beaten him."
"Yeah?" Paul grinned. "I guess I didn't give him enough. Did he tell you what they used on him?"
"Yeah. A switch. I guess it must have been a really whippy one. You can still see the welts through what you gave him."
"Sh_i_t, that means he needs more. You should give him some."
"I figured he's had enough."
Paul laughed and shook his head. "No way! A kid like that never gets enough." He was carrying a used bar of soap. "Shove the gag back in."
Brian didn't move. "What are you going to do with that?"
"Shove it up his ass to remind him of our pricks. He'll feel this more than our jizz." He grinned at me. "I bet you do this when you jerk off, kid."
I looked at him angrily. "No way!"
"Then this will be a new thrill. Open your mouth."
I shuddered as he picked up the briefs, shoved them in, and used some more tape to seal them in my mouth. I was still tied to the bar.
He came around behind me and jabbed the soap bar into my asshole. The soap had been used a lot, for its edges were all worn down and smoothly rounded. But it was still too wide and thick to push in easily. It stretched my anus without penetrating. I moaned in pain as he pushed.
Brian shook his head. "It's too big. You'll never get it in."
"Oh, it'll go in" Paul laughed.
He took the bar of soap away and pushed in several fingers, balling his fingers up once they were inside me. I screamed in pain and fear as his fingers stretched my anus to the breaking point. He took his fingers out and tried once again to push the soap bar in. It still didn't go in.
Brian looked at him scornfully. "I told you it wouldn't fit."
"Just wait."
Paul pushed his fingers back in, this time first pushing in the thumb of his other hand. I shrieked in agony as my anus stretched. Then he took his fingers out, got the hose, and turned the water on, shoving the hose in through my asshole and waiting for my insides to fill. Then he took the hose out, shoving the soap in while the water poured out around it. This time, the soap bar penetrated.
It took Paul just moments to push the soap bar in. Once most of it was inside, the rest popped in on its own.
Paul grinned and picked up the one-by-two. "Let's see how he likes getting this with that soap inside him. Hold that in, kid, or you'll really get your ass massacred."
He reached back and started beating me. I was totally immobilized by the rope holding me to the porch rail. All I could do was shriek and sob into the gag as the blows landed on my buttocks and thighs. I jerked and twisted against the ropes, frantically trying to twist away. Every time I did that, the soap bar moved, rubbing up and down inside me. It didn't hurt all that much, but it sure made me feel cheap. It felt like being raped at the same time I was being beaten.
After giving me nine or ten blows, he got Brian to pick up one of my ankles. He helped Brian twist me around, holding my left leg by my knee. He pushed my knee up on the porch rail, forcing my torso to twist around with the underside of my ass totally exposed. The soap bar popped out when he did that.
Paul picked the soap up and pushed it in again. "I told you to keep that in" he snarled. "You're really going to get on it your ass now."
"Oh, come on" Brian protested. "How the hell could you expect him to do that?"
"Listen, Brian, you'd keep it in, wouldn't you?"
"I don't see how."
"You'd learn. You know what you get when you disobey."
"Maybe" Brian shrugged.
Paul picked up the one-by-two and went behind me, smashing it into the underside of my right buttock, right at the point where it joined my thigh. I shrieked in pain and jerked forward, shrieking in fear as he reached back again.
I screamed pleas into the gag as he reached back, shrieking in terror as he smashed the one-by-two into me again. This time he aimed for the inside of my thigh, slapping it hard. That was really bad.
It wasn't just the impact of the board that was bad. It was also the soap bar inside me, grinding away inside my rectum every time I jerked and twisted. My torso was already twisted by the position they'd pulled me into, making the soap bar feel even bigger inside me. It popped out again.
Paul looked at me in annoyance. "I guess we should bind it into him. I'm going to see what I can find."
He went out of sight and came back empty-handed. "There's nothing back there. I'll use the tape." He picked up the roll. "This should work."
He wound it around my belly several times, holding his hand underneath. He pressed that together into a belt all around my waist and then started weaving the tape through the belt, from my belly past either side of my balls through the crack in my ass to my back. By the time he'd done that several times, each time pulling the tape tight, my asshole was totally blocked. The pieces of tape had merged together there into a mat. There was no way anything could get in or out of my asshole.
"Okay, that should hold it. Untie him and take the gag out."
Brian did that, pulling me on my feet after he took the gag out. I could hardly stand. It wasn't just the bruises. The soap bar inside me was massively uncomfortable. By now, the chemicals in the soap had irritated the inside of my rectum, triggering a strong laxative reaction throughout my colon. The bar itself felt like a huge turd, pushing inside me every time I moved. It wasn't painful, but it was very intrusive.
"Stand up" Paul ordered. "Get your clothes on."
"Please take the soap out!" I begged. "I've got to sh_i_t!"
He laughed. "You want more on your ass, kid? Do what I tell you!"
I tugged at the tape but it was wound around itself too tightly. I realized I'd need a knife to cut it off.
"Please! Cut this off! I've really got to go!"
"No _f_u_cking way, kid. I want you to remember us as you walk home. So hold it in, get your clothes on, and get out of here."
"Please!"
"You want more on your ass, is that it?" He grabbed my arm. "Grab his other arm, Brian."
Brian shook his head. "I'm not helping you give him any more."
"Then I'll do it by myself."
He forced me back over to the porch, bent me over the rail, and picked up the rope. I tried to twist away, but he was much bigger and stronger than I was. He held me easily, wrenching a wrist up above the rail.
"Please!" I begged. "I'll do what you want. Don't give me any more!"
"You mean it?" He'd tied the rope around my wrist and reached for the other one.
"Yes! I do! Honest!"
He reached for the board. "You're a _f_u_cking liar, boy."
"PLEASE!!!!"
He reached back and swung, slapping it across my buttocks.
"OWWW!!!! PLEASE, PAUL!!! I'LL DO WHAT YOU WANT!!!"
"OWWW!!!!"He'd slapped me a second time, this time really hard.
"AOOWWWW!!! SH_I_T!!!" He'd hit me again. "PLEASE DON'T DO THIS!!!"
"OWWW!!!!" Another blow. "PLEASE!!!" And another. "I'LL OBEY!!! HONEST!!!!"
"You mean it?" he smiled after the sixth blow.
"YES!!!" I sobbed. "I'll do anything you tell me!"
"Okay, then." He released me. "Do what I told you. And do it fast."
I went to the porch and picked up my jeans. "Where are my briefs?" Brian had tossed them aside when he took them out.
"You don't need them. Get your jeans and shoes on, and get out of here. Don't bother tying your shoes or putting your shirt on. If you're not out of here in sixty seconds, you're getting it on your ass again."
I quickly pulled on my jeans, pulled on my running shoes, and grabbed my polo shirt.
"I'll come with you part way" Brian suddenly volunteered.
"Yeah, you do that" Paul grinned. "Make sure he doesn't try to get that soap out of his ass."
.
[19] . [Back on the trail]
Brian followed me as I climbed back up to the rail right-of-way.
"I never thought he'd give you that much" he said apologetically when we got to the top. "He was wild!"
I looked at him and shrugged. "You held me while he did it, Brian. Don't pretend you didn't help him."
"You won't tell anyone about this, will you?"
I looked at him scornfully. "You think I want all of Greenville to know what you two did to me?"
"I guess you won't" he grinned. "Was it like this with the other guys that did it to you?"
"Sort of" I shrugged. "They all took turns."
"Beating you?"
"That plus raping me."
"Wow! Did they give you as much as Paul did?"
"More" I shrugged. "There were three of them."
"You mean they all raped and beat you?"
I nodded.
"That's fantastic!" he grinned. "So it was definitely worse?"
"Yes." I looked at him bitterly. "Does that turn you on?"
He shrugged and then smiled. "I guess it does. It turns you on, that's obvious."
I shook my head. "Not really."
"You sure were turned on when you had that hose up your ass. Does that bar of soap turn you on too?"
"No _f_u_cking way! Have you a knife or something? I've got to get it out."
"Are you kidding? Paul would have my ass if I helped you."
"Sh_i_t! It's almost worse than being _f_u_cked."
"When did you get all that from them?"
"Yesterday."
He looked at me in surprise. "You're kidding!"
I shook my head. "I'm not."
"Jeez!" he grinned. "You're really into it. Paul was right about you."
"He's a sh_i_t" I said bitterly.
"He may be a sh_i_t, but he sure read you like a book." He looked at me and grinned. "You really must like this, Kevin, if you get it this often."
"F_u_ck you" I said sourly.
"They shove stuff up your ass too?"
I shook my head. "Your friend Paul is the first one to do that." Just then, Paul called from below.
"I'd better go" Brian said. He looked at me and grinned. "I guess you'll remember us for a while."
"The kid still with you?" Paul called again, this time from closer.
"Yeah, he's here" Brian called back.
Suddenly, Paul appeared.
"He's telling me about other times he's been _f_u_cked" Brian told him. "It sounds like you were right. He's been _f_u_cked by a lot of guys."
"Of course I'm right" Paul grinned. "I can always tell." He looked at me and grinned. "Gay kids like him are always looking for what we gave him. They just can't get too much up their ass."
I smiled bitterly. "I sure can. That soap bar is _f_u_cking uncomfortable."
"Don't lie to us, kid. I know you like getting it. We'll do this again."
I looked at him in disgust. "Not if I can help it."
He snorted. "You think you'll have a choice?"
I shrugged and didn't say anything.
"You know where he lives, Brian?"
"Somewhere around here. I can easily find out."
"Do that." He grinned at me. "We'll definitely do this again, kid. Next time I'll bring some friends. I bet they'll really go for you."
"F_u_ck you!" I said bitterly.
He laughed. "You're disrespecful, kid. I guess you want more on your ass."
I shook my head. "No way! I want nothing to do with you." I turned to go.
He grabbed my arm. "You don't _f_u_ck with me, kid." He wrenched my arm up behind my back, holding firmly while I twisted in pain. "Push his jeans down, Brian."
Brian looked at him warily. "What are you going to do to him?"
"Do as I say and don't ask questions. You want me and Thor to give it to you on your ass for disobedience? Like we did two months ago?"
"You wouldn't!" Brian said fearfully.
"Try me. You've got two seconds to decide."
Brian unzipped my jeans and pushed them down below my knees.
"That's good. Help me put him down on his knees."
Brian grabbed my other arm and helped Paul push me down. They forced me down on my knees and then pushed my torso forward, forcing my chest down on the ground.
"Sit on him and keep him there."
Brian straddled me and sat on my back. "Like this?" he asked Paul. He was holding my wrists, wrenching them up in front of him.
"That's perfect" Paul grinned. "That really opens his ass up. Hold him there while I cut a switch."
"Oh, please!" I begged, beginning to sob. "Please don't do that!"
He looked at my ass and grinned. "You got this from the other guys, didn't you?"
"Yes" I sobbed. "Please don't give me more!"
"Hey!" he laughed. "You'll love it!"
There were some young saplings nearby. Paul cut one off and quickly trimmed it with his knife. I could see it was very similar to the one that Tom and Phil had used on me the day before, maybe just a bit thinner.
He took it out to my side, grinning as he reached forward to touch my buttocks. "This is going to be good. That position really opens up his ass."
"You want me to gag him?" Brian asked.
"No point. We don't have anything handy. And no one's around." He touched my ass again. "I don't really give a _f_u_ck if he screams."
I was moaning in fear now, horribly afraid of what the switch could do to me in that position. I could feel my asshole stretched by the position I was in and knew that the entire underside of my ass must be exposed. Paul touched my ass again, flicking the end of the switch against my asshole.
"PLEASE!!!" I screamed. "NOT THERE!!!!"
I was really frightened now. I shrieked as he reached back and slashed the sapling across my buttocks.
"OWWW!!! _F_U_CK!!!" I shrieked, shattered by the pain.
He did it again. And again.
"OH GOD!!!" I howled, sobbing in agony. "Please don't give me any more!"
"You going to be disrespectful or disobedient again, kid?"
"No!" I sobbed fearfully. "Please stop! I'll do as you say!"
"You sure will!"
He slashed the switch into me again.
"AIEEOWWWWW!!!! SH_I_T!!!" That had really hurt. "NOT AGAIN!!!! PLEASE!!!"
He'd angled it down so that it mostly cut across the cheek of my right buttock, a fraction of an inch from my asshole.
Paul laughed. "That got to you, did it?"
"OH, GOD!!!" I moaned as he reached back. I was really terrified now.
He slashed the switch into me once more, even closer to my asshole. The pain was bad, really bad, but nothing compared to my terror. That one had come really close.
He walked over to my other side. "We sure missed a lot earlier" he grinned. "He's going to need a lot more, Brian."
'Oh, God!' I thought to myself, moaning in fear. He reached back and swung, slashing across the underside of one buttock, then slashing across the other.
"That doesn't get to him" Paul sneered. "I bet you'd like this much closer, kid."
I shrieked as he slashed down into the cheek of my left buttock, slashing right down beside my asshole.
"OH JESUS!!! PLEASE!!! AOOWWWWW!!!!"
Fortunately, the tape over my asshole had kept the switch from hitting it. He slashed down another blow, almost on the same spot, cursing as he saw that the end had broken off.
"Sh_i_t! The _f_u_cking thing was too thin" he said angrily. "It must have caught in the tape."
"What happened?" Brian asked.
"The end of the switch broke off."
"Can't you use it?"
Paul shook his head. "No, it's too short now. I should have taken the tape off." He looked down on me. "I'll do this properly next time, with a better switch and nothing protecting him. Let him up. Let's go."
He turned and walked quickly back down the path. Brian got off, looked at me, and shrugged. "You were lucky, Alan."
"He's a _f_u_cking asshole" I sobbed angrily. "A stupid _f_u_cking asshole!"
"Well, you'd better get used to it. He likes beating assholes."
"He's a _f_u_cking pervert!"
Brian laughed scornfully. "I guess it takes one to know one." He turned and followed Paul down the hill.
"F_u_ck!" I swore bitterly. "F_u_ck!"
.
[20] . [Welcome home]
I walked home slowly, feeling the sting of the switch each time I moved. He'd not hurt me quite as much as Tom had the previous day, maybe because the switch was a little thinner. But the welts still stung painfully, especially the ones near my asshole. And the bar of soap still felt like sh_i_t. Literally.
I sobbed quietly as I walked, partly from the pain but even more from the degradation of what they'd done. Shoving that soap up my ass had really symbolized how low I'd sunk. I sobbed as I realized how much my life had changed. I knew I'd hear from Brian and Paul again. Particularly Paul. He was a real bastard. I knew he'd want my ass again. He was easily as bad as Tom and Phil.
It would be easy for him to reach me. He knew who I was and could find out anything he wanted about me. What he'd said about bringing a friend or two made it only too clear what he had in mind. I just hoped it would be only one.
I guess I knew now that I was _f_u_cked, that what had happened yesterday and today was going to happen again. If it wasn't Tom and Phil, it'd be Paul. Maybe all of them. For all I knew, they might even know each other. It didn't bear thinking about. All I could think of was how stupid I had been.
I sneaked into our garage, found a knife, and took it with me back up into the hills. I needed to find some place where I could be alone while I cut off the tape. It took a while, but I finally got all the tape off. Once I'd done that, it was easy to get the soap out.
For some reason, I didn't do that right away. I'd taken all my clothes off and was totally alone out on some rocks. Feeling the soap rub inside me while naked began to turn me on. I thought about what their pricks had felt like, and got even more turned on by the memory. My hand went to my prick and.... I guess I don't really need to describe the details, do I?
After I'd cum there on the rocks, I really felt like sh_i_t. The soap was still inside me, and I'd actually jerked off thinking about how good it felt. Sh_i_t! Even remembering how it felt inside me as I was being beaten had helped turn me on. How could I get turned on by that?
I suddenly had to _s_h_i_t_. I squatted by a rock. The soap popped out, along with other stuff. I looked at the mess bitterly. That really was the ultimate degradation, I thought to myself, letting myself get turned on by having guys shove soap up into my asshole.
How could I get turned on by that? And by them beating me? The more I thought it, the more disgusted I felt. I alternated between that and thinking about what all the guys who'd _f_u_cked me would do next time they caught me. I had no idea what I could do to prevent a next time from occurring. The more I thought about my situation, the more I came again to the conclusion that I was _f_u_cked.
I stayed out on the rocks thinking about it for several hours. The longer I stayed, the more depressed I became. I couldn't see a way out.
I started thinking about the others, about what Tom and Phil would do. I was worried sick about what they'd do to me as a result of my not showing up as I'd promised. With my wallet in their hands, I knew they could easily find me. Almost as easily as Paul. I wondered how they'd trap me. Or even if they needed to. God! To be in thrall to one gang was unbelievable. For me to have duplicated that, and to have done it so soon, was so far beyond unbelievable that... well, I just can't describe my feelings.
I came home late in the afternoon, just in time to welcome my parents home. By that time, the pain had died down a little and I could pretend to be happy to see them. Nevertheless, I felt ashamed to have them hug me. I could still feel the sensation of the soap up my asshole as I hugged them, feeling it with mingled thoughts of excitement and revulsion. Mostly revulsion. I felt like a traitor.
It was just awful to think of what I'd done while they were away. I hoped they'd never find out. I knew how much it would offend my father to know that his son was participating in gay s_e_x. To find out that his son was not only being _f_u_cked by neighbors and strangers but actually being turned on by it would be devastating. I couldn't even imagine how my mother would react.
Shortly after my parents came back home, my mother picked up the phone.
"It's for you, Alan."
.
[21] . [Bolton security]
I went to the phone. "Is this Alan Bryant?" a voice asked.
I said I was. The voice sounded formal.
"This is security at the Bolton Mall. Your wallet got found in a washroom."
"Really?" I asked in surprise. "When did you find it?"
"Some time ago" the voice said. "You must have dropped it there sometime yesterday afternoon."
"That's impossible."
He laughed scornfully. "That's what they all say, son. Do you deny you were there?"
"Well, no. I went there yesterday."
"So what were you doing there, son? Just hanging around waiting to be picked up? Or do you do it with guys in the stalls?"
"I don't know what you mean." I was astonished by his questions. "I don't go to washrooms in your mall. Not for that, anyway. I don't go there to...."
"To do what?"
"Well, you know." I didn't know what to say. "I don't do what you're thinking of."
He laughed. "What don't you do? You seem to know all about it, kid. I'm beginning to think you're a regular."
"No! I'm not! Anyway, I wasn't there. Not when I had my wallet, anyway."
"You weren't there."
"Right. Not then, anyway. Someone must have stolen it."
"Now you're getting creative" he laughed. "When was your wallet stolen?"
"I don't know. Yesterday afternoon, I guess."
"Did you report the theft to the police?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"I didn't know it was missing. I gave it to someone else."
He laughed again. "Which is it, son? Stolen or given to someone?"
"Given to someone. The guy I gave it to must have left it there. Maybe someone stole it from him."
"We're going to have to check this story out with him, son. What's the name of the person you gave it to?"
"I don't know" I said awkwardly, realizing how stupid this must sound. I looked around to see if anyone was listening.
"You don't know" the voice repeated in obvious amusement.
"That's right. I realize this probably sounds dumb, but I honestly don't know his name."
He laughed incredulously. "Are you putting me on, kid? You gave your wallet to somebody and you don't even know his name?"
"Not his full name. His first name is Tom. I don't know his last name."
"How much money was in it?"
"I don't know. Maybe twenty-five dollars. No, a little more. I had it for bus fare and for a movie."
"Credit cards, too?"
I shrugged. "Yeah. One."
"So you gave all that to someone you don't know?" He laughed scornfully. "You'd better come up with a better story than that, kid."
"It's the truth" I shrugged. "What does it matter, anyway? Why are you asking me these questions?"
"We're concerned about why you were there, kid. Funny things have been going on in that washroom."
"Like what?"
"I think you know perfectly well."
"I don't. I have no idea what you're referring to."
"You're just an innocent teenage hooker."
"I really don't know what you mean" I said nervously.
"No?" he laughed.
"No, I don't!" His presumption was beginning to annoy me. "And I don't see what any of this has to do with me, anyway. I mean, I'm glad you found my wallet. But I don't know what that has to do with your questions."
"Were you carrying any other money?"
"No."
"So how did you get home with no money? What did you do? Peddle your ass for a ride?"
"That's insulting!" I said indignantly. "What business is it of yours, anyway?"
"Our man will explain. Are you going to be home for the next hour?"
"Yes" I replied warily.
"We have someone in your area. He'll deliver your wallet shortly."
I put the phone down, troubled by his questions. I was surprised that my wallet had been turned in and astonished that the security firm would go to the trouble of delivering it to me.
When a car stopped outside our house, I was watching for it. The car was unmarked, but the man who got out was wearing a uniform. I ran to the door to keep him from ringing. I didn't want my parents to know I'd lost my wallet. I didn't want them to know anything.
.
[22] . [Security interview]
When I opened the door, I was stunned. The man wearing a guard's uniform was Phil.
"Are you Alan Bryant?" he inquired formally, pretending not to know me.
I nodded apprehensively.
"Who is it?" my mother called out from inside.
"It's for me, mom" I called back.
"You'll need to fill out an incident report" he said politely.
"What did he do?" my younger sister asked. She'd come to the door.
"He lost his wallet at the mall" Phil smiled. "You're his sister?"
My sister nodded. "Are you a policeman?"
Phil shook his head. "No, a security guard. That's sort of a junior policeman."
"I know what a security guard is" my sister said in annoyance. "I'm not an infant."
Phil laughed. "You sure aren't. How old are you?"
"Thirteen."
"You're cute" he grinned. "I bet you have a lot of boy friends."
She shrugged her shoulders. "More than he does" she said archly, pointing at me.
"That's because he's a man" Phil smiled. "Most men have girl friends."
"He doesn't" she smiled derisively. "He's too young."
Phil laughed. "You sure don't stick up for him, do you?"
"He's my brother" she laughed scornfully. "I know him too well."
Phil laughed again. "I doubt that you know everything." He turned to me. "The report will take a few minutes. We might as well do it in the car."
"Why does he have to fill out a report?" my sister asked. "Did he do something bad?"
He shook his head and smiled. "It's a routine inquiry. We like to know how he lost his wallet and what was stolen. It helps us prevent crime."
"I lost it somewhere else" I told him. "I wasn't in the mall."
"You can tell me that in the car, kid. I have a form to fill in."
"Why don't you come in and do it inside?" my sister asked.
"The forms are in the car" Phil shrugged. "I'll get them and come in if you'd prefer."
"It's okay" I said quickly. "I'll come with you."
I was nervous about going with him to the car, but didn't want my sister or my parents to overhear our conversation. I went with Phil to the car. He opened the door to the back seat and I climbed in.
"Is this real?" I asked doubtfully, looking at his uniform. "You're really a guard at the mall?"
"I sure am" Phil grinned.
He picked up a clipboard from the front seat, got in beside me, and checked off some boxes on a form.
"What's that form?" I asked.
"It's a standard incident report" he smiled. "We need you to answer some questions. The report goes in the mall's security files."
He wrote something and then handed the form to me. "Read it and sign."
I looked at it. "I didn't have it in the washroom. You know that. I gave it to you before that."
He took the form back, wrote something, and handed it back.
I looked at it in annoyance. "I didn't just 'claim' not to have it there. I really didn't!"
He smiled and handed me the wallet. "Check the contents. Anything missing?"
I checked and shook my head. The money I'd had was still there.
"Nothing else missing? Credit cards? ID?"
I checked and nodded. He took the form back and wrote another note.
"Nothing was taken from your wallet."
"That's right" I nodded.
He noted my answer. "So it couldn't have been stolen."
"Of course not. You know what happened to it."
He grinned and wrote some more. "Mall security doesn't know a thing, kid, other than where it was found."
"I don't understand. Even if it was found there, why should anyone care? Are you really a security officer?"
"Yes, I am. And I'll tell you the reason the mall sent me. The mall's had problems with that washroom. Gays keep using it as a meeting place."
"That's got nothing to do with me!"
"Maybe it does. Someone reported seeing a kid who looks like you giving someone a blow job there yesterday evening. Your wallet was found when security investigated."
"That's ridiculous!" I said angrily. "I'm not gay! Besides, how do would anyone at the mall know what I look like?"
"Your photo ID, kid. It's in your wallet."
"Oh."
He shrugged and wrote some more.
He handed the form back to me. "I've recorded what you said. Sign it down there at the bottom and give it back."
The form must have been printed out in the car, for it contained a summary of the earlier phone conversation, which I saw had been with someone named C. Anderson. Anderson's report stated that I'd initially volunteered that I hadn't done anything wrong while in the washroom and then had claimed I'd never been there. He wrote that I'd claimed my wallet had been stolen and then, when asked why the theft hadn't been reported, had said I'd given it to someone. He added that I'd said I didn't know the name of the person I'd given it to.
Phil had written that I'd confirmed that nothing was missing from my wallet and couldn't account for my wallet being there with everything intact. He wrote that I'd stated that I still couldn't remember who I'd given it to. He added that I denied giving anyone a blow job there. He said I'd said the man who'd seen me doing that must have confused me with someone else.
The place where I was supposed to sign was immediately below a statement saying I'd read the foregoing and that I attested that the notes were an accurate summary of what I'd said.
I looked at him in indignation. "I can't sign this. This makes me out to be a liar!"
He shrugged. "They're your words, kid. I can't help it if you keep changing your story."
"This isn't fair! You're setting me up!"
He shrugged again. "Is there anything you want me to add?"
I shook my head, not wanting to give him an opportunity to add something even more incriminating.
"Then sign it and give it back. Make sure you initial every paragraph, including Anderson's."
"What if I don't sign?"
"Then I'll have to come in and talk to your parents. They'll have to come with you to the mall security office."
"They don't have anything to do with this!"
Phil smiled. "You're a minor, so they're responsible. I can't take you there without them. Are you going to sign, or do we go talk to them?"
"I'll sign" I said reluctantly.
I signed and initialed the form. He handed me a copy.
"We missed you this morning" he said curtly. "You missed a friend of ours, too. He's pretty pissed off."
"I'm sorry" I apologized. "I slept in."
"Don't you have an alarm clock? You made us a promise, kid."
"I know. I couldn't help it. My ass was so sore last night that the last thing I was worrying about was an alarm clock. I couldn't get to sleep for a long time. By the time I woke up, it was too late to come."
He nodded. "We'll let it go this time. But your ass will be a lot more sore if you stand us up again."
I smiled in relief. "You worried me there for a minute. I thought you might try to kidnap me now."
He laughed. "Not with your sister watching."
I looked back at the door. She was still there, watching from the door. I waved at her and forced a grin. She waved and went inside.
"So is that it?" I asked him, putting my hand on the door handle.
"Not quite" he smiled. "I didn't come just to give you your wallet."
"No?" I asked nervously.
"I want to set up a time for you to meet us this week. Your ass has a date with us. We'll pick you up after school."
"You must be kidding" I laughed nervously. "I can't do that."
He smiled. "You can't or you won't?"
I shrugged. "Does it matter?"
"Not really. We want your ass again. How about tomorrow afternoon?"
"I can't. I have a track practice."
"We can pick you up afterwards."
"I can't do that, not on a school day. My parents won't allow it. Besides, my dad always picks me up after practice."
"Don't your classes ever end early?"
I shook my head. "Just the reverse. I have track practice most days."
"How about on Friday? You ever go to a movie after school with friends?"
I nodded warily. "Sometimes. Not often."
"Good. Then tell your parents you're doing that this Friday. You can meet us at the Greenville bus station after school."
I looked at him disdainfully. "You really think I'll agree to that? Just so you can beat me and _f_u_ck my ass?"
He smiled. "Why not? We know you like getting it. You're hot, kid. You like getting it up your ass. You even like getting the strap."
"You're out of your _f_u_cking mind."
He grinned. "Don't lie to me, kid. You want your ass punished now?"
"Of course not." I looked at him nervously, realizing that I shouldn't have encouraged my sister to go inside. I reached for the door handle. "You're not going to kidnap me, are you?"
"Not now" he grinned. "I have something to give you."
.
[23] . [Photo gallery]
He opened up an envelope and took out several passport-size photographs.
"These were found in your wallet."
He gave one to me. The picture showed me leaning back against a table, grinning stupidly at somebody and holding a beer. I was stark naked and had a hard-on.
I looked at him in horror. "When did you take this?"
"Just after I took this shot."
He passed me a photo of Kevin hugging me. The two of us were grinning at each other and were obviously both naked, though you could only see our torsos. The picture ended just above our pricks, just low enough below our navels so that you could see we weren't wearing anything. From the angle of Kevin's arms, it was obvious that one hand was holding my prick.
"What else did you take?" I asked apprehensively. "You said these were found in my wallet?"
"Yeah, there are copies in your file. Is this the same boyfriend?"
He passed me another photo, this one showing Kevin sucking my prick while I lay on my back on the same log as in the first picture, holding myself steady with my legs straddling the log. You could tell from the picture that it was the same log as in the first photo.
"You had no right to take this!" I said indignantly.
"Why not?" he grinned. "It's a great souvenir. You were really into it."
The picture was horribly incriminating. My face was barely visible but still recognizable. Kevin was facing away from the photographer so you couldn't see his face, but I knew it had to be him. He was holding himself up above me, sucking my prick as he held my thighs. My prick was obviously rock hard. You could see the bottom several inches of it below his lips.
"Is that in the file too?" I asked in alarm.
"Of course. It was in your wallet."
"Were there any others?"
"Not in your wallet" he grinned. "By the way, that reminds me. I should get you to sign this inventory."
He passed me a form containing a typed list of the contents of my wallet when found. The list included the three photos, described as "passport- size picture of naked aroused youth leaning against table, grinning and holding can of beer"
"picture of same youth fondling another youth, both naked" and "picture of same youth being fellated by second youth while lying naked on log". A note stated that the youth's face looked the same as the face on my ID card.
"I can't sign this. The pictures weren't in my wallet."
"Do you affirm or deny you're the person in the three pictures?"
"Are you writing down my answer?"
"Yes."
"Then I deny it."
He took back the form and wrote something. "Okay" he nodded. "I guess that should do it." He looked at the last photo and grinned. "Who's f_u_cking you in this one, Alan? Can you tell?"
"You know who it is" I said bitterly. "Kevin."
"You're right." He wrote something more and passed the form back. "Initial what I just wrote and sign at the bottom of the form."
I looked at what he'd written. He'd stated that I'd inspected the three pictures found in my wallet, denied being the youth in the pictures in spite of the obvious resemblance, and denied that the pictures had been in my wallet. He added that I'd identified the other youth in the picture as someone named Kevin.
I looked at him bitterly. "You keep twisting what I say."
"Your words, kid. I just report them. Sign the form."
"And if I don't?"
"Then we'll go talk to your parents. Maybe they can identify the youth in the pictures for us."
I looked at him bitterly. "You'd show those to them?"
"I will or my supervisor will. We should really do that anyway, since you're still a minor. Your parents ought to know what you're doing."
"If I sign, will you keep them without showing them to my parents?"
"For now" he nodded. "Provided you don't do something else that's a security problem."
I shook my head and sighed. "I won't do that. I'll sign."
I signed the form and handed it back. I looked at the last picture again. "That's not identifiably me."
"No?" he grinned. "That's because it's hard to see things in a photo that small. Look at this one."
He reached into a large brown envelope and passed me another photo of the same scene, this time looking towards my face. This photo had been blown up to 6x8 size and so you could see things much more clearly. It was obviously the same scene and obviously the same face. This time, my face was clearly recognizable. I felt sick with embarrassment.
"The first one is better. It shows how much you liked getting it. So does this one."
He handed me a fourth passport-sized photo. This time, I was lying with my back on a log with someone between my legs. My prick was in his mouth. You couldn't tell who it was, but I knew it had to be Kevin. You could only see the top and back of his head, but you could see he was sucking hard.
He grinned as he saw my expression. "You were really turned on."
I thought furiously as I looked at the photo, trying to figure out when it had been taken. I wondered if the picture had been doctored. I looked incredibly turned on. The picture showed me holding onto him as he sucked, actively pushing my prick into his mouth. You couldn't see my face clearly, but you could tell from the expression that I was really into it.
"Is this in the file too?" I asked fearfully.
"That last one is" he grinned, shaking his head. "I guess it fell out of your wallet. That's Kevin too, isn't it?"
"Of course" I shrugged curtly.
He wrote another note and passed the form back. "You'd better initial that too."
He'd written another _d_a_m_n_ing sentence, describing the photo and then saying I'd stated it had probably fallen out of my wallet. He'd also written that I'd identified the youth sucking me as the same person as in the other photos. I initialed it and handed it back.
"How many photos did you take?" I asked fearfully.
"Several more" he grinned. "This one's really hot."
He passed me another 6x8 picture, this time of me lying on my back on a log with my legs up against someone's chest and his prick pushing into me. My eyes were closed.
I was obviously passionately into what was happening to me. My prick was rock-hard as the person _f_u_cking me pushed his prick in. You could see his hand jerking off my prick. You could also see his prick, half inside me. It was obviously both longer and thicker than mine. My legs were pushing against the guy's torso, raising my ass up to push out against his prick. I knew from the position that it was Kevin, but you couldn't tell from the photo. You could only see his torso, hands, and prick.
"You can have them all. You don't need to look at them now."
He passed me several more, all of the same size. I looked at the top one, which showed me leaning back against the table with closed eyes and a smile. My prick was standing hard out in front of me. I flipped over to the second one, which showed me in the same pose but with Kevin sucking me. I was looking down at him, with one hand on his head and the other holding a beer. The third one was of me sucking Phil. You couldn't see his face, but I knew it had to be him. You could see every detail of his prick and balls. You could also my face clearly. My eyes were closed, my cheeks pulled in. I was obviously sucking with enthusiasm. The pictures were _d_a_m_n_ing.
"What are you going to do with them?" I asked nervously.
"These are all for you. Stick them inside your shirt."
I looked at the last one and then quickly did as he suggested, checking that no one was watching from the house. The last one had been taken from out to the side when Tom was _f_u_cking my ass. I was lying over the table on my belly, holding my face up. My face was easily recognizable.
"How did you take all these?" I asked nervously. "I remember you took some, but didn't see you take all of these."
He laughed. "I guess you weren't looking, kid. You did seem kind of intent." He reached into the envelope. "There are a couple more."
The photo he handed me was of the same scene, taken far enough out to the side to show Tom driving his prick into my asshole. You couldn't see his face, but you could certainly see his prick. It was obvious that the head of his prick was well inside my ass. There was enough air space between my asshole and his belly to show that he had many more inches to push in. I was arching my back, pushing out against his prick. And someone, you couldn't see who, was sucking on my prick. You could just see his lips and the back of his head behind the leg of the table.
The picture was so graphic that I felt my prick stir. Phil saw it and grinned. "It's pretty dramatic, isn't it? Look at this one."
The second picture had obviously been taken almost immediately after, showing his pelvis banging into my ass with all of his prick inside. The way his back was arched made it obvious that he was banging into me hard. The two pictures together were so graphic that I felt my rectum contract. I squirmed on the seat as I remembered what it had felt like.
"You still going to claim you didn't like it?" he grinned. "They're pretty good, aren't they?"
I looked at them with a sinking feeling. "You're not just giving these to me as souvenirs, are you?"
"We're keeping copies, if that's what you mean" he laughed. "We have several sets. We thought your parents might like a set."
"You can't give those to them" I whispered fearfully. "You mustn't!"
"Oh, we won't do that now. But they'll get them in the mail if you don't show up on Friday. We'll also send them a photostat of the mall security report identifying you as a suspected male prostitute."
"What security report?"
He laughed again. "The one my boss will fill in when I take your statement back. The one those first four photos will be filed with."
"But I'm not a prostitute."
He shrugged and smiled. "So you said. But you're obviously gay. Do your parents know about that?"
"You can't do that! Not to my parents!"
"No?" he grinned. "So what about Friday? You still haven't told me if you're going to meet us."
I smiled bitterly. "I'll meet you. But only if you give me every copy of those photos. The negatives, too."
He laughed. "There aren't any negatives, kid. These are digital."
"Well, you can destroy the files."
He laughed again. "Are you kidding? We want them for our web site."
"You can't do that!"
"Want to bet? These pictures really make you look hot, kid. Some of our friends have already seen them. They can't wait to meet you."
"You're a bastard."
He smiled again. "That's not polite, kid. You know what the punishment is for that kind of disrespect?"
"No, what? A dozen strokes on my ass?"
He grinned. "You got it, kid. You'll get that and more Friday night. You disobeyed us by not showing up today, remember?"
I looked at him in disgust. "You're a _f_u_cking sadist."
He laughed. "It's fun, kid. Besides, we know you like it."
"Yeah. Just like I like getting my ass raped."
"Exactly. So here's what you do on Friday. There's a phone booth out in front of the bus station. Be inside the booth at four and pick up the phone when it rings. Okay?"
I hesitated. "I don't know if my parents will let me do this."
He shrugged. "That's up to you, kid. You know what they'll get in the mail if you don't come."
I nodded grimly.
"We'll tell you what to do when you pick up the phone. Oh, and be there alone. We'll have someone watching you, so don't try playing games."
I nodded.
"Okay, then we're set."
He got out of the car when I did. "Take better care of your wallet in the future, kid."
"Thanks at least for returning it" I said grimly.
"Oh, glad to be of service" he smiled. "Thanks for your cooperation."
I went back into the house and quickly went up to my room. I hid the pictures under the mattress and then went back downstairs to my parents.
"It's strange your wallet got found in Bolton" my father commented. "How did you lose it?"
"I don't know" I shrugged. "I had it with me yesterday. It must have dropped out of my daypack. Someone found it and turned it in."
"Was anything taken?"
I shook my head. "No, nothing at all."
"You were lucky."
I nodded grimly. I didn't think I was lucky.
.
[24] . [School]
Through the rest of that week, I worried a lot about what would happen to me. I knew I had to meet them on Friday. I had no choice.
Periodically, I took the pictures out of their hiding place and looked at them. I couldn't help getting turned on by the pictures, especially by the pictures of Tom _f_u_cking me.
My memory of what it felt like to have their pricks up my ass was very vivid. Every time I looked at the pictures, I could feel the sensations I'd felt then. To my surprise, my primary reaction was of excitement rather than horror every time I looked at the photos. I jerked myself off several times over the next few days while looking at the photos.
Before I left for school on Friday, I told my mother that some friends and I were planning to see a movie.
"Will you be home in time for dinner?"
"Probably not" I told her. "We'll probably eat something first. Or perhaps later. I'm not sure of their plans."
"Don't come home too late."
"I won't."
When I walked down the hill after school that afternoon, I was really scared. I walked down with a couple of friends who were in fact going to a movie. They tried to persuade me to come with them, but I told them I had to meet someone. That probably wasn't a good thing to tell them, because it piqued their curiosity. It took me a while before I got away.
When I got to the bus station, it was just past four. The phone was ringing. I got to it just a few seconds too late. I stared at the phone, entreating it to ring again. I knew my ass would suffer for every minute that went by.
When it rang again five minutes later, I picked it up and recognized the voice. It was Phil.
.
Well, as you can see, I was hooked. I figured there was no choice other than to accede to their blackmail. I don't know what else I could have done. Maybe I should have gone to to my dad and admitted everything, shown him all the pictures, and asked for his help. But I was too afraid that he'd do what Kevin's dad had done, throw me out of the house for being a gay slut. Was I just being a coward? Maybe I was.
As I thought about it that week, and reconsidered later, I realized that my interview with Phil was the crossing point, the point where I acceded to being part of Tom and Phil's stable. By going along with Phil in that interview, signing all those papers, I'd allowed them to put me in a totally compromised position. With that record in the mall security files, they'd set me up in exactly the way they'd set up Kevin. I was caught. I couldn't go to the police. I couldn't do anything. I was screwed.
It made me sick to think about it. There was nothing I could do except to do whatever they wanted. The price of disobedience --the delivery of that file to my parents-- was something I couldn't possibly live with. I'd have to do whatever Tom and Phil required.
I had no illusions about what that meant, not after what Kevin had told me in the park. I'd be a gay slut. They'd sell my ass. And if bad things happened, I couldn't go to the police. With that deposition on file and all those pictures, there was no question that they'd react as they had to Kevin. They'd never believe me if I told them I'd been forced to do evil things, that I'd been raped and beaten and brutalized. They'd just laugh and say I undoubtedly deserved it.
I thought many times that week about whether I should talk to my dad. Every time I considered doing that, I held back, too afraid too confront him. Even at the last minute, waiting for that phone to ring, I debated doing that instead of going with them. But I was too cowardly to risk doing that. I guess going with them to be raped was the path of least resistance. I suppose that's a kinder way of describing it than to say it was a conscious choice.
What really galled me was that I'd actually fallen into the same mess twice. What had happened Sunday afternoon --to be caught like that and identified, to boot-- was so incredibly careless and stupid that I found it hard to believe. To be snared by two predatory gangs in one weekend was beyond the realm of probability. I figured it was only a matter of time before Paul and his friends would blackmail me into coming out with them again too.
So, what do you think? Is there anything good I can say about myself? I said last time that I had to accept some blame for inciting the first set of rapes and beatings. If anything, I feel even more culpable for what I've reported in this part, both for what happened on Sunday and for my cowardice in dealing with Phil.
Jeb agrees. I'd never told him about this before writing this instalment. I was too ashamed. He believes, and I agree, that I deserve severe punishment for not having enough faith in my family to talk to my dad about what had happened. He's met my dad many times and knows he's a good man. He also knows how much my dad loves me. I found that for myself out later on. I was really stupid not to trust him. I'm ashamed that I wasn't willing to take the risk of confiding in him.
I can't say too strongly how much I deserve punishment for that. Jeb says that the first lesson from this punishment will be that I will always trust my partner and my family, and resolve never to hide anything from them ever again. The second lesson is that you never solve anything by hiding from it, which is what I was trying to do. I know now that's true. I brought even more shame on my family by what happened later, as a result of taking what I thought was the path of least resistance.
In view of this, we have agreed not to depend on you to request punishment. Instead, I will get a very severe caning this weekend. Jeb promises that it will be the harshest he has ever given me, and that I will get another equally harsh one on each of the following two weekends unless we hear a convincing case from you that the last one is not warranted. I can't imagine you'll argue against it, but the last one is on your behalf.
If you do disagree, you'll have to be really convincing. Jeb and I are pretty set on our decision. Jeb has talked to my dad about it, and my dad agrees with the punishment. He's a strong supporter of Jeb. He thinks my meeting Jeb is the best thing that ever happened to me since all this began. I wish he'd beat me too, but he is adamant that he'll never do that himself. He says it's different if Jeb does it, that it's a different kind of judgement.
Be that as it may, the second of the three punishments is on my dad's behalf. Jeb and I have agreed that's the way it should be. I get one from Jeb for not telling him, one on my dad's behalf (through Jeb) for not trusting him back then when it happened, and a third one from you guys for being such a stupid _sh_i_t. If you have any special requests on how that last one should be given, please write to Jeb.
I know that, at this point, a harsh punishment is mostly symbolic. But I think it's the very best way I can expiate my guilt in this whole sorry business. As a matter of fact, I think even more would be appropriate. If you think so too, please write to Jeb and tell him. I'd really appreciate your telling him that. I know nothing will change what I did two years ago, but it's a relief to be punished for it now.
On a broader note, I believe the exercise of writing these 'stories' has been helpful. It's forced me to confront what really happened and to admit my complicity. It's also been an effective way of telling Jeb and my dad what really happened back then. I feel a lot better for doing that, for putting it all out in the open. I've finally come clean.
I'm not sure whether I'll write about what happened afterwards. I went through some really bad experiences in subsequent weeks and maybe it would be beneficial to write about them. But the main thing I wanted to write about --my complicity in all this-- has now been fully exposed. The die was cast when I picked up that phone in the bus station on Friday and obeyed the instructions Phil gave me. From then on, it was just momentum.
I want to thank those of you who sent mail. You helped me write this. Whether you expressed support or criticized, you helped me more than you know.
.
[to be continued.... maybe.]