Long. This is a story, not a vignette. Brutal in places, Sexual in others, both in a third part. I like my characters, their histories, their ‘occupations’ how they evolve, hope you will as well. My pleasure to write, hope it will be yours to read. PJ
“Okay guys, this is what yer lookin’ for; Clean and as cheap as you wanta be an’ still be safe. Theys some others, further down from where I picked you up but…fuck…I won’t even pick up fares there. Old man, Vet from ‘Nam, runs this, don’t plan on much conversation, PTSD hit him pretty hard, he saw…a lot…” The guy paused, we wondered what he’d also seen in the military? I’d spotted the Air Force emblem inked on his inside forearm… also his thumb and part of his hand were tatted with a noose, closed when he put his forefinger at the tip of the thumb. That meant something… “ but he’ll treat you fair.”
It was a neighborhood that, once, might have bustled but now, few buildings in use, mainly as warehouses-one large clearly wholesale auto parts place- but enough for their to be some activity…at least during the work week.
Cabbies know everything.
“Where can you grab a bite around here? I’m guessing there’s no coffee shop…”
We all laughed.
“Depends on how far you want to go…main drag’s about a mile other way, got whatever you want there…block or two, greasy spoon, no one died there yet oh, and back a block, just around the corner, Anchor Inn, combo saloon, pool parlor, pick up joint, certain times of the day you can buy plate meals, pretty good, I’ve had ‘em a time or two.” He paused and looked at Ed and me. “Under those jackets I’ll bet you got a pile of hard earned muscle…get a knife in your boots and you’ll do fine around here, just don’t take no shit, don’t go for romantic walks in the moonlight and don’t make no friends”; Guess he’d figured a few things out about us. “That’ll be $8.35. Oh, when you get your stake built up, move; Call that friendly advice for the tip you’re gonna give me.” Which we did.
No mistaking what the business was; There were a thousand hotels like these all across the country and, with variations, around the world. Some were good, some were bad, the outside didn’t tell you much. Least the glass with the word “Hotel” was clean, looked alright, no burnt out lamp bulbs plus, as we’d learned was a good idea, the entrance was near a street light; Pretty much flat fronted buildings, no dark niches, no access to an alley, where someone might loiter… You knew to look for things like that plus the cab had no reluctance about coming here. There are places in every city where taxis will neither pick nor deliver so to find this wasn’t one of those….
The small lobby was spotless, some military flags on the wall, thinking about what the driver said about ‘Nam’, I would have bet a soldier knew how to keep things clean. Not the sort of place you hung around, more like where you waited for someone or they waited for you to come down. A leather couch, couple of chairs, table with marks left from the days when a smoker would put a butt in a plain glass ashtray but it would fall on the wood, everything it needed to qualify as a cheap hotel lobby. No coffee shop, no bar, just the basics; One reception with one clerk. Not smiling. Had to be the guy the driver talked about….
Man behind the desk looked about 55-60, sharp, gray horseshoe flat haircut, absolutely ex military, probably Marines, what I would swear were marks on his face got when something too near exploded. 6? 6’1”? Still trim, likely even hard bodied-no Marine would let himself go to flab. No expression just waiting for us to approach to check in or decide to go elsewhere. We walked up, tried to look pleasant.
“Afternoon, Sir, my buddy and I got jobs down at the pallet factory, need a room, driver said yours were clean.”
“Try to be. Both of you? Twins or more’n likely one large double? Don’t matter to me, only difference is which room you get.”
From previous experience. “Baths in all of ‘em?”
“Shower, shitter, sink, medicine cabinet in the wall, slot for used razor blades….four towels, get ‘em every day from the closet in the hall. Sheets changed twice a week unless you mess ‘em up, charge ya three bucks for a change out. Rooms cleaned when the sheets changed. No WiFi, cable television available. The usual. A man can make himself comfortable if he’s a mind to or he can bitch in which case, find another fox hole. Read the rules on the wall and follow ‘em. Not hard, just strict. So…what’ll it be?”
I read the rules first-kinda like reading the fine print. Nothing we couldn’t handle, no smoking, we didn’t, no guests unless they’re registered, okay, keep the noise down, easy when you’re tired and sleeping and the last…. “NO BRINGING CUSTOMERS TO YOUR ROOM”. We weren’t selling anything.
“Sounds good, Sir, by any chance you got a room that looks out on…something? We kinda got sick of alleys ‘n trash collecting…. One big bed…that’ll do us fine. You want cash or a credit card?” I took off my jacket. My arms told any service man a story in ink, also, another set, I knew he’d see ‘em, that I’d done Federal time. We stood there letting him take this in, probably thinking….Cons…
“When’d ya get out? That where the two of you hooked up?”
“Just over two years back and, yeah, we met on the iron pile.”
There was a quiver of a smile. “ Both of you, show me your guns.”
Willy slipped out of his wind breaker, we both were in T shirts, hard to miss the muscles-cotton only expands so far. We didn’t smile, just stood there, waiting.
“Gents, got a front facing room, big bed, this one comes with extra two towels, got a bay window if yer into looking up an’ down the street, sun a few hours a day…you say you got credit or cash? There’s an old saying about take the cash and let the credit go but…if it’ll handle it, I’ll give you a discount on one week in advance, normally two hundert but I’ll knock it down to one fifty, service discount…which branch?”
“Army, Artillery. Afghan…”
Surprised us, reached across the desk, shook our hands. “Sign here while I run the card…you know if it don’t go…get out.”
We knew.
“By the way I’m VC…..just like the shits who shot off my leg.” Looked just like everyone.
“Sorry to hear it, Sir, real sorry. I guess we got lucky, worst thing to us was sand in our eyes.”
A small machine went ‘ping’.
“Guess you are now official guests. Tell you some other things about the place since you look like stand up guys; for a fee, can put a phone in your room, also, since you mentioned the iron pit, there’s a small gym, nothing much, some weights, coupla bicycles, few machines up on the fifth floor…” He smiled. “it looks out on an alley so if ya wanna just wear a jock, if the birds don’t mind, guess I don’t either. I’ll give you the code for the door. Some showers there, don’t use the water much, gym’s on a separate tank, take your own towels.” He stuck a card in the pocket on Willy’s T, took two keys down-the kind with a large ring, not likely to lose them, thing so you could clip it in your pocket. VC had thought ahead on many things.
“Okay, guys, room 411, top of the stairs, turn right, end of the hall, quieter there. You want some change?”
We looked confused.
“Television is pay per view or I can charge a weekly fee, twenty bucks, and it stays on permanent.”
Willy handed him the card again. “The TV, didn’t you say something about a phone?”
He reached under the desk and pulled out a model that might have been new about 1980. Push buttons, kind with a receiver and a curly cord. “Five bucks a week, no long distance…but you can buy a card from any of the gas service marts if you need more than just around here…oh, hold it.”
We hadn’t gone any where.
He took another card, wrote somethings on the back handed it to me. “If you’re like me,” illustrated by dropping the card, picked it up. “ I’d copy those somewhere. Top is the phone number, bottom is the code for the gym. Other side tells you where you are…and what else?”
“Seems square, Sir, we’ll get on up, settle in…they got us on a grave yard shift to start tonight…pays pretty good but…”
“Want a coffee maker?”
I didn’t dare look at Willy. In both our minds was the question…what else does he have for guests if you’re willing to pay for it?”
“Wouldn’t hurt….where around here would a man buy coffee?”
“Got it here, Folgers, no cheap shit for guys who work the graves. Instant or drip?”
I should have known.
“Comes with two mugs, the big ones, machine makes eight cups, mugs hold two apiece. One bag or good sized jar of instant a week-buy more here if you need it. Got sugar and that powdered creamer shit.”
“Mind if we come back for some of this?”
“Right here when you need ‘em”.
We swung our back packs up ‘n over then picked up the duffel bags, headed for the stairs both of us thinking…this could easy have been a lot worse. The guy at the pallet place had said best thing to do was get a gun-not something we were able to do given our ‘diploma’ from prison-don’t walk alone and remember, the door to the plant only opens at shift time, be there or be out of a days pay. Think he meant it-jobs weren’t easy so replacing anyone, even for being a moment late, wouldn’t be a problem.
The taxi ride had been the best investment we could have made. Armed with a phone, I was sorry we didn’t get the driver’s name, number, company….another ride would surely have turned up more info that would be helpful. Made a note to ask the guy who called what the company was, call them maybe they kept a drivers log, we could back track and find him. Maybe.
About the third landing Willy wondered aloud where we were now living? Based on VC, maybe the ‘Hanoi Hilton’. I only half laughed. “Tell you when we aren’t playing pack mule, dig out the card, find out.”
Room 411 came as a real surprise, a good one. Sturdy industrial grade carpet, the bed, almost king sized, looked more like a real hotel than something involving springs, a two inch mattress and an iron bedstead. Driver had been right, it was clean, almost too much so; Whoever kept it bright had an ongoing romance with Lysol…Larger than I think either of us expected, two men could move around without bumping into one another and, as advertised, a bay window which was enhanced by a padded window seat; right then, there was a shaft of light on the floor. Couple of chairs, not just wooden, but looked comfortable, table that folded out from the wall, good sized bureau as well as a closet that would hold more than one shirt. Bathroom was similar-found where the prime Lysol smell came from. Shower was a large walk in, no standing in a tub with a curtain, toilet was Crane Standard plus the large, deep sink had a good sized vanity on either side, deep drawers underneath. I felt a towel, a man could actually get dry with it cuz it hadn’t been in use to the point that it was just a worn out piece of cloth.
“We just got lucky….”
“Real Lucky….No Shit…find that cab driver..” I winked at Willy “…give him a double blow job. Kinda think he wouldn’t say no, might even come on up, give us something else…”
“The rules? No unregistered guests? No customers?” We both laughed.
He put his arms around me. “Remember 31 months ago, standing outside Leavenworth with only gate money and…”
I filled it in. “…each other.”
He smiled. “Yeah, each other.”
“Wanta unpack or fuck first?” He sat on the bed. “Good and firm, VC does know what he’s doing.” He reached out, grabbed my belt, pulled me to him. “I’ve been hauling that duffel long enough, time for me to haul your ass.”
His hand was already undoing my belt, least I could do was pull off my T shirt, lay back and let him work for what he wanted.
“I’m so horny I could suck you right through that zipper…”
I reached up, pulled his shirt off, gave each nipple a good pinch…moved down got his belt loosened then just pushed his low riders…lower. Good thing he had a real hard butt or no pair of pants he owned would stay up. Cuz we’d been job hunting both had on push up jocks….never knew what would sell you. ‘Sides, I liked to feel the heavy knitted fabric which held what he knew I wanted. Just to piss him off, I pulled a strap let it pop back.
“That kinda action will not get you a cock.”
“Oh yeah?” I reached in. “What’s this hard thing? Coat hook?”
“You shithead….” We rolled until we were nice and settled in for a good 69…lots of slurp, lots of fingering the ass, fondling the nut sack, lots of tit twisting….over time we’d learned to deep throat each other…not always, not today but nice to know that was an option.
He gave up on my stiffy to eat my nuts, good and hard, just like I liked ‘em chewed on. Returned the favor, squeezed his….we both knew what we wanted just wanted to put off that pleasure point beyond which….well, it’ll tasted good and gloppy and gooey and just like we like it. Willy and his tongue…absofuckinglutely a national treasure.
I shot first hitting him square in the face, would have to clean that for him but about then I got my own deposit of liquid man, right down my throat accelerated when I gave his jewels an extra hard squash.
We lay there, naked, sweating, here and there splatters of semen waiting for a tongue to swipe it like a floor waxer getting it all as it went back and forth. His furry abdomen was a hiding spot for dots and splashes of…me. Had to pursue them while he took what he had, smoothed it on my lips like balm. Probably missed some but then…there’s another time.
“Better get up, downstairs, pick up the phone and all…VC might have more behind that desk….anything you can think of? Condom dispenser? Washer/Dryer?” We both laughed.
“C’mon, quick shower, first one dry goes down…hey…you never told me what’s the name of this place?”
We scuttled around, finally found the card under a sock. “Not very creative… ‘Holden Street Hotel’. I’m guessing this is Holden street…”
“Yeah well, we’ve stayed in worse…remember the gray bar one?”
We were both quiet for a moment. He peeled off to shower while I hopped downstairs to collect the rest of our newly acquired luxuries.
I figured casual was the dress code at the Holden Street Hotel. VC changed since I saw him, had a Tank Top pushing his loyalty to the USMC (which explained the cleanliness-no Marine is ever dirty except when they’re fighting), the usual Corps tats some torn off camos…plus two legs that didn’t match.
Seemed almost glad to see me. Hoped everything was good enough, he had our phone, coffee maker, coffee-we didn’t need sugar or creamer. The mugs were Army green with “Heroes Wear Dog Tags” on one side, USMC on the other. Good size, as he’d said, easy two cups. I should have seen the next coming.
“You’re Ed, right? Don’t offer this to many of the guys, wasn’t meant to be but only guys live here so don’t be shy about going to or from the gym in a towel or a jock…” I think he was almost glad to see the two of us for whatever reason. Maybe the credit card, even if we were cons, gave us some stature and, of course we’d been in the service, probably honorably discharged. Made us a cut above some one wanted a room for one night then dickered about the price. But this next, I suppose I should have seen something like it coming as well.
“If you and your buddy are interested, I got real good recliners, the sort with built in massagers, in a room your size, they’d fit, flop back, watch the TV, make ya a good deal on them…by the month…if you figure you’re gonna stay awhile?”
Until he said that I doubt if either of us had long terms plans but…we had jobs, not great, sorta near by if you were a strong walker, but good enough until something better came along, unintentionally a pretty fair place to stay and now….yeah, we’d be here a month. I began to think…maybe longer, just depended.
But with VC there was always one questions, “How much.”
“Got these real cheap at a close out, you’re big men, part of why they didn’t sell was they’d been a special order for a fancy guys barbershop or some such-cut my own, do yours to if you want-made for worked meat men like you, how about…a sawbuck a month?”
That was a deal, agreed. A couple places back we’d rented some recliners…a sawbuck wasn’t even close to the deposit.
I wondered what he charged to cut our hair-already crew cut, regular army, VC would have noticed that. Just out of curiosity, I almost asked him how much for a close scalp peel…no doubt he had a price. One thing, his cut, that horseshoe flat…a man cannot do that to himself, not and get that absolute straight line a flat needs and a former Marine-there are no ex-Marines-would demand; Probably had it cut at least once a week, that kind of cut almost demanded that or it looked sloppy, something VC was not. And then it came to me, simple, somewhere around here there was a guy who cut hair, with or without a barber shop, who ‘made a deal’ with him for, maybe another ‘guest’…whatever else he had in his ‘supplies’ depot that a guy might need-maybe another guy who lived here. Made sense…I kinda wondered what he traded his cutting skills for? Phone? Coffee maker? Curtains? With VC nothing was unlikely, just not immediately offered. I thought about what we wondered….what else we could get? Came to me that…there had to be some sort of laundry somewhere; I asked.
“Oh, fuck, forgot to mention that….in the basement, two pair, year old Maytags, plus a couple of heavy duty dryers, only need one time….coin operated, there’s a change maker on the wall, only takes ones, machine will too…you an’ your….buddy work nights so be easy to always find an open machine. There’s a sign up sheet if you gotta get to one for your work duds…works out pretty good.”
I thought about the condom dispenser…not something we used but just wondered. VC’s basement probably had shit anyone could use…if they had a need. Covered the basics pretty good….’course, with only men living here and him being former military, guessing what guys will want and need wasn’t no guess.
Seriously wondered…this kind of place, most likely once an apartment building, sometimes had been built with a garage for the residents, usually for a mechanic, but a garage…wondered…. Did he rent cars? Apart from something too big, or something he didn’t feel he could ever rent, nothing would surprise me. Hell, if you wanted it really homey, prob’ly rustle up a big friendly pooch you could take for a walk or a cat that liked to sit in the sun….
“You and the other sack of muscles meet me at the freight elevator, other end of the hall from you in about thirty, they’re in the basement, wanta get ‘em clean ….Real good shape, place went bust mebbe a month after these chairs was delivered.”
I meant it when I shook his hand, thanked him. Willy and I hadn’t been what you might call ‘comfortable’ in some little while….on a fluke I asked…
“What else you got in that basement….course our rooms getting kinda full.”
“Mini fridge, fit in the bathroom, two, burner…..also a three burner cook top.”
I would have bet he had dishes, silver ware and cooking utensils….
“We’re getting in pretty deep, haven’t had one paycheck…let me talk to my partner….”
“For a buck I’ll throw in a toaster and two loaves of bread to go with the coffee…that’s weekly.”
I saw him look out into nowhere. “I had a partner once, good man, Marine, like me….” then he snapped back to now. “Sure, you two talk it over, I ain’t hard to deal with, just let me know if you’re interested.” And, I thought, whatever else you might be interested in.
When we met him at the rate we were acquiring ‘furnishings’ by the freight elevator, we wouldn’t need only our muscles but maybe a wheel barrow; I skedaddled up the steps before he remembered any other bargains. Had a nasty thought, neither of us had ever fucked a one legged Marine, had to wonder what that cost? And could he come up as he wasn’t a customer? sniggered to myself.
To say Willy was surprised as I clattered in with signs of domesticity and information about what could be coming attractions.
“He doesn’t happen to have a bike? Or a car…or a hot tub or….”
We both laughed but….neither of us was sure what he wouldn’t have. For then, all we had coming up were the recliners which, after we got them-they were on coasters which made moving them easy-proved to be top of the line, never used but a few times. That they had some shop’s emblem on them made no difference, they were solid comfort.
“Give us some more space just sleep in these, maybe we can rent the bed back to him.”
“Uh, no. The bed stays and…what the hell, ask him if there was a mirror that goes on the ceiling…..” We both looked up, laughed but…wondered.
Five months later we were more like tenants than guests of the house. As I’ve always known, if you can get one job, you can get one better which is about what happened. One of the factories for which the pallets were made was looking for men to work on their loading docks. Physical strength counted, which we had, and, when they noticed we ‘showed’ pretty well, we went out on deliveries. Also, the hours moved back from horrible to reasonable, a plus, also got a modest increase in salary but, a new development, when we delivered the furniture, tips were given. If we were there, having just hauled in a couch or a corner cupboard, it was not unusual to be asked to do ‘one or two other little things’ that involved strong men and moving things. (Learned to buy shirts a size too small, hey, advertising never hurt, matching T’s-he’s got bigger tits but I’ve got him when it comes to nipples poking though cotton.) Got tipped for that as well not to mention an occasional come on from the lady having her furniture organized. No sale but, now and then, it was guys who suggested if we had some time after work, maybe we could drop by and help him shift some things around; We could and did. That brought in more than ‘tip’ money. There being two of us helped not to mention our bodies being in good shape. Another thing, some of these men had a sort of fetish for what they saw as low class men, ex cons, guys who worked in menial trades, construction… but were built like the proverbial brick shit house. How they viewed us didn’t matter not so long as they paid cash up front; With two of us, double fucking was a specialty-cost more to get it but, hey, we were what their fantasy was about; Straight from the construction site, hot, muscled up, ready to fuck them raw.
This was another reason we were grateful to VC, that gym, which was a lot better equipped than he had first described; It saved us both money finding a work out place plus time while we kept in shape for our job as well as all the other things we did that having a well worked out body helped. Also, that was where we met some of the other residents who, like us, worked in trades where your strength was just a part of your job or you wouldn’t work there. You looked good? So much the better. Two of the guys, like us, we found, were partners. Regardless of VC’s rules about silence we got together for a sexual foursome we all enjoyed-we didn’t take customers to our rooms and kept the noise down…
That first one was a bit tentative but as we lifted, got acquainted, enjoyed showering and what the sexually deviated can do in a shower, came to find out that they, like us, were making money selling sex. Difference being that they didn’t bother hoisting furniture, just worked their clients from their room here at the hotel. Were we interested?
Herb and Syd were about like our story with the only exception, they’d done state time where we’d spent ours in a Federal lock down. To listen to them, we had it easy but the bottom line is….prison is prison. Also, like us, they’d got into the sex for sale when some guy approached them in a bar, made some very direct offers, which they accepted, then joined a casual string of male whores run by a guy using a phone out of machine shop a few blocks from the hotel-he recruited his meat from men who came in with a dying car or just looking for work. The money was good, or good-ish as Herb said. You could never lose the idea that while you were getting banged or sucking a cock, part of what you made went to your pimp. If you were lazy, who cared, just dial a number, get an address, go do whatever, collect the money, drop the percentage in a sealed can in an alley by his shop then go home. Work out, find, as they did, day jobs that paid “so so” but left them free for their ‘real’ jobs. Also, like us, renting out as a duo brought really good money; Herb explained what that meant in terms of dollars and cents…he was right.
One other thing about them, they had a car; For what they did, almost a necessity and, yep, we’d been right, there was a garage built in where whoever ran it for the former tenants, also was a mechanic-things were more easily fixed back then. Another thing, this had once probably been a pretty decent place to live but, looking at some of the details, was built just at the wrong moment, the depression almost killed it then the war where housing was at a premium, but one room could-and did-sleep four or more. Our good sized room with the bath, six or eight, easy, all you needed were bunk beds….VC probably still had some for guys who worked shifts and only needed a bed when they were not working; Swap off with someone else who had the alternate shift to yours.
Willy and I talked about it…We’d known the two guys long enough to realize they were telling the tale as it really was. One thing, maybe it didn’t bother them but both of us were still on a sort of casual probation which, I knew, would be violated if we got caught selling our ass for…anything. One thing about Federal time, you did most of it so the probation part was short, not well monitored. That it would be found out was very unlikely but neither of us had any interest in going back. We went sideways, said we were thinking about it….which was the truth. Finally he came up with a ‘party’ out in the ‘burbs’ where what the guy who was putting this one wanted was….guys like the four of us. Didn’t have to do much, all protected sex plus the ‘guests’ like I said earlier, were into guys from construction or whatever, big, furry, muscular, tatted up, well hung, nice balls, didn’t matter how you looked. What Herb said was the only problem he and Syd ever had was pulling ‘em off their cocks before they came; There was an ‘extra’ fee if you fucked someone leaving your cum in his ass in other words, bareback (AIDS may be under control but I was a rubber up or nothing happens kinda guy; Call it a weakness.) Some other ‘guest’ at the party would like to eat him out…after he was screwed, cum dumped then they licked his hole clean.
All in all it sounded almost dull compared to what the four of us sometimes did but it also sounded like the ‘fast buck-well, bucks’ you hear about. Told him we’d try it…once. What we were offered paid a months rent, the cost of the phone, the television, the recliners, the coffee maker as well as the mini refrigerator we’d acquired and left us with a nice amount of ‘walking around money’ which usually meant walking over to the Anchor Inn-our ‘social outings’ place.
This was also where we got approached by guys who wondered if we….? Yeah, we could and did. Want one or both of us? Next to the Anchor was a vacant store front that had been ‘redesigned’ as a combination book shop with private porn film booths-only one viewer, theoretically, at a time-as well as glory holes in the back. One trip there paid good money also, given the brief time it took for someone to suck us off-and we gave them a fair shot-our beer didn’t really get cold. (Leigh, who owned and ran the Anchor, got to know his customers, what they liked to drink as well as what they liked to do or would do for the customer ; While you were next door “making a selection from best sellers” as he would laugh and say, he’d stick your mug in the refrigerator, never even got warm.) Herb and Syd thought this was chicken shit money….maybe it was to them but….Leigh spotted us as pretty good guys who wouldn’t take some frightened guy from his tract home, roll him, beat the crap out of him then steal his billfold. The Anchor was, we found, a lot better known than its location would suggest; Some Saturday nights, if we had nothing to do-which was every Saturday night, VC, Willy and I would put on tight white shirts, bow ties, red mess jackets with “Valet” on the front, then park cars; The paint on black pants, with appropriate bulges and steel toed boots, made it clear we were not college boys doing this for tips. VC didn’t take ‘dates’ but acted as our one off pimp-we paid him per client. We charged up front, you don’t want to pay us to park it? No skin off our nose but we knew from memory what to tell guys who wandered back after having done their own parking but needed to report a stolen car. Living in the area we knew where you could safely stow almost anything without worrying about it was a boon-the garage in the Holden Hotel for example. On a good Saturday in Summer (Sometimes we shed the shirts just wore bow ties and the jackets. Good looking pecs with plump nipples sold nicely as did the tats which suggested we’d served our country.) we could each clear at least five hundred, a portion of which we gave to Leigh for the ‘Parking Concession’; Fair was fair. Between moving vehicles, if it slowed up, we’d leave our jackets and ties with VC, go in, find a ‘reader’ who needed assistance in ‘selecting a best seller’ from the book store next door. Didn’t take long and only did that on slow nights-usually when the weather went against us. One other ‘specialty’, if you were really cheap and not into ‘reading’, he had a couple of addicts who worked the toilets at his place. All of us, including Herb and Syd, vowed we’d go back to prison before we’d stoop that low. Also…Leigh as well as Herb’s pimp (they knew of each other but never met) appreciated this, none of us did drugs, didn’t even smoke. I was a two beer man…on a night when I had time for two beers, same with Willy. One other thing, our taxi buddy, whom we did find and locate, was right; The plate meals they served were good; Leigh saw us as ‘Independent Contractors’ for the Anchor so a perk was getting a large plate meal in the kitchen before our ‘work day’ began out front. Whatever the ‘work’ that day was going to be.
One day in the shower after using the gym, Syd said they had a ‘party’ they’d been privately invited to, no pimp involved. He wasn’t sure but a couple of guys like us would probably be welcome….if we were interested. All he said was that this was way beyond plain vanilla so if we had any hang ups…. We didn’t. Said he’d get back to us-not difficult as they had room 311; the two rooms were connected by a fire escape. Number of times in the summer, we’d all had some nude tanning-and public fucking-when we weren’t working on the weekend as the neighborhood was closed up. VC probably knew but by now we weren’t tenants or guests, we were annuities. Also, pursuant to his rules, we didn’t bring customers home.
Were we friends of theirs? Sort of but remembering the very good advice of the cab driver (who functioned as our occasional pimp not to mention his amazingly good advice on things we would not have thought of) not quite close friends. We’d told him about Herb and Syd, his only request was that he take them on a trip in his taxi someplace without us…he’d get back on what he thought about them. Also told him about the party, all he wanted to know was…where was it? Again, he’d get back to us. His closing remark was, “Don’t quit your day job.”. Not mentioning which day or what job.
The four of us were at the Anchor Inn Wednesday night, just doing our usual-it was a week night so no valet, not much book shopping, having some long necks, Syd and Willy were playing a kind of pool called ‘Slop’, Herb and I were leaning on the bar, not watching whichever game was on…he was talking about the ‘party’ they were going to the next Saturday. I’ve been to more than one rodeo so know there’s parties then there are ‘parties’ (Some of the ones ‘hosted’ by the guards in prison went waaaay beyond much of anything-also participation was not voluntary with what you did and with whom was mandatory. Usually other guards to whom beating the shit out of you, before or after they fucked you or you blew them, was the ‘party’ We got to be popular, even performers for whatever they wanted us to do to each other or other guys…sometimes even a really kinky guard-there was a ‘special’ cell for that….(Willy had the ‘pleasure of being ‘invited to it’…once. All he would say was that…I didn’t want to find out for myself; His bruises and marks finally cleared up…only a few scars. He was right, I didn’t want to ‘see it’. You see, by then, I loved him so just trying to use cold water to clean him up…couldn’t find anything for pain, knew better than to ask.)
His discussion of Saturday and the events needed to be spelled out. Wanta fuck me? Have me suck you? Get me up in a sling for some double fucking, I’m up for that but somehow this seemed further. He danced around it, had another beer then flat out said, “It’s BDSM….” He took two swallows set his bottle down on the bar, looked at me, “Pain, pleasure, ropes, whips…getting put into bondage, CBT….”
“Sounds like a full evening…”
“Starts around three goes until…whenever.”
“You done this before?”
He was hesitant. “Yeah….see…Syd and I are kinda the men they use for…whatever…sure they do it to each other, get their kicks but….we’re sort of some of the main men, almost leading the way for whatever they got in mind, they get turned on watching us then….do it to each other….or whatever….”
“Got an idea as to that you led people into might be?”
“They got a milking machine, does more than that, fucks you, edges you…your nuts get….cracked.” He was quiet. I wondered….
“You get off on this?”
Right in my face. “Yeah, I do, I’m the master and Syd’s my slave. He’ll go in chains, be handed over to….them while I get tied into that machine….they make bets on how much cum they can get….how loud I scream….ever had your cock beaten off for a couple of hours? Well, that’s what I’ll get…..turns me on just thinking about being put in, each part of me tied down….balls get put in this squasher….then….the tube. By then I’m so hot, so ready, Jesus, I want that sucker to come down, eat up my dick…then they turn on the machine….You can see the cum being sucked out of the top of the tube, dumped into a container marked on the side how much it sucked out of me…….”
There was something more…. “Then…?”
He was there in his mind. “If I don’t give enough…it…just…won’t….”
“Quit?”
“Oh, yeah, man, oh Jesus, until I conk out….some times…my cock spits blood…you gotta see it…try it…”
He looked at me in a way few have. “If I put my hand down there….you’d be hard….”
I involuntarily gulped.
“Don’t say no….wait’ll you watch….” Stopped.
“Watch?”
“Like now, buddy, you’re getting into this, you want something. I can feel your cock get hard, those nuts…” He gave my sac a squeeze. “They want to be worked over….you want to be tied down…I can see you, all those muscles, squirming…”
“ Fuck, you gotta give it to me now, I’m so horny….c’mon, I need to have my nuts mashed, get fucked…the bathroom….Oh, shit, Ed, Oh….God…” He reached down….got lucky, something he said got me boned….I’d punched him before, no rubber so…
In the toilet he shucked off his jeans faster than a stripper with Velcro pants.
“Bite it, slap it, stick your thumb up me, Jesus, jizz on me, piss on me, hurt me…FUCK ME NOW….!!!”
Gave his prong a good slap, I could hear it rebound off his leg, did it again, had to cover his mouth, turned him, used my pre cum as lube, didn’t bother just went straight in. Or his ass ate me he pushed back so hard. Since I liked doing it, kept up swapping his cock, then shucked it until he shot on the wall not to mention what I was doing inside him……which was not letting my pecker give him more than a diddling on his prostate, all I could do was hold him, finally pushed him against the wall, forced his meat and nuts hard into solid concrete bricks…had an idea, pulled back, kept slamming his balls into the wall, his stick was weaving crazily when it got back, probably trying to give again but now he was being edged, nothing in there….nothing…but the ache of desire to be hurt more but nothing was left….cept slamming his balls.
I’d held it as long as I could, shot a wad right down him, jerked back, pushed him to the floor, turned around…
“Get your tongue in there, eat me alive…”
We were both into what was a scene neither of us planned on but, as they say on the play ground when Leigh banged on the door, “He started it.”
That stopped both of us. Sweating, gasping for breath I got away from him, his tongue dripping my sperm. All we could do was be there, in the moment….He stood up, gave me my own milk back….
It was over, we stepped out…he got his Levi’s back up, I was still trying to catch some air in my lungs.
Leigh did not look happy.
Herb and I stood there like victims following a disaster not knowing what to do. I was a little surprised to see a smile creep over Leigh’s face; By then I’d figured we’d be 86’ed forever.
“Christ, the next time you two wanna do something like that, at least let me get it on video….know what that would sell for? That kinda action…real, just two guys doing it, you have no idea…”
Well, I didn’t but ‘a lot’ went through my mind.
We stumbled back to the bar where Leigh handed each of us a long neck, probably thought we needed hydration…
Herb just looked at me…somehow he still had the Saturday fiesta on his mind.
“Just let me know.”
I thought about all that. Sure, on porn I’d seen some of it but that’s porn, not real, the guys who are doing it know what they’re doing, it’s set up. When you’re watching you don’t see the stops to change angles, makes sure there’s a rubber before they fuck….what he was talking about was leap into your own grave.
“You’ve done this before?”
“Coupla times….can’t do it too often….Jesus, that machine could rip your meat not just off but right out of your body….”
I almost whistled out… “Fuck the pay for a scene like that must be…”
He cut me off. “I’m not paid….that’s part of what makes it so hot…once I’m secured, whatever happens…..they just do it to me. Wouldn’t be the same for money, be there taking whatever thinking about the pay day….have to understand, Ed, this is my life, my soul, not knowing all of how I’ll be hurt….” He thought for a minute. “Doing it for money, fuck, that’d just be porn, this is real…”
“Sounds more like torture to me…”
“I guess some would….”
“Doesn’t sound like you need us….”
He looked at me again not saying, “I know what you want…Don’t lie to yourself…”
“They got an idea, want to try it on some guy…they’ve seen you, Willy, you’re what they want.”
“You the recruiting officer?”
He ducked his head. “Sorta….I wanta see what they’ll do to you…Ed, it’s a deal where, can’t explain it but they want two people….”
“I gotta think about this…talk to Willy. I mean we’ve done a lot of crazy shit, had it done to us….remember prison? Lucky I still got my nuts….but what you’re talking about….Listen I’m not gonna say no, more like maybe.”
“Fair enough. When I can I get an answer other than right now?”
“Later this week?”
“Okay, but it’s for the both of you…”
“I’ll talk to Willy.” Slid off the stool, looked at him. “I think you are one crazy motherfucker.” What he said about having your meat pulled right out of your body. Sometimes you believe what might be…even if it hasn’t ever happened.
“Hey, you know what they say, don’t knock it till you try it.” He grinned.
I knew I was never going to try what he did but…..Willy and I had played real hard and rough with each other now and then, whether it was BDSM….don’t know but there was no lying to myself about the pain and what we had done…talked about doing…I got hard again just walking home…took a chance, hauled it out in the dark, made it cry cum…dribbling on the sidewalk…cold on my stalk….pulled out my balls, brought them to the party, gave them a slap. Standing in front of the glass in VC’s front window, I smeared my cock head just to hear the squeal of flesh plus feel the drag on my foreskin…also to mess with VC when he saw his clean glass dirty.
As best I could I told Willy what I’d been told, what it was about…but what I couldn’t tell him was…what might happen.
“I’m kinda turned on….whatever it is, it sure as hell is something we’ve never done. Syd talked to me about it…gotta say, he hit some things…well.,..you know what we’ve said we might do….shit like that. I got boned just listening to him.”
“What if after we’ve done it, there’s not enough of us left to do anything again? Willy, these are the real hard core players you read about, this isn’t porn, it’s for real. No money, everyone there is into this…whatever it is they’re into…no limits…They are serious and I gotta believe, once we say ‘howdy’ we’re in for whatever…”
He put his hand on my crotch. “Ya know, I believe I’d really get off watching you have your nuts cut off….feel me….”
“Jesus”.
“Up on the bed, I need to fuck you like a wild thing. All the way….I wanta see your pisser spit white I’m hammering you so hard, get naked….”
Two days later I called Herb to say we were in…while Willy lay on the bed and slapped his hard dong laughing like a fool.
One other call, Vince, our taxi boy, asked him to meet me out front when he was going to be in the vicinity which proved to be about ten minutes later.
“Always hang around here when they hoist over at the Anchor and the drunks spill out… look for the ones who don’t look like they’ll barf…or can get to the window before they do-I always keep it down for moments like that….least ways if I’m hauling drunks.”
I told him what Herb told me, asked him what he thought. He’d met them, given me his opinion that they were as upright as we were. Turning tricks, what the hey….okay guys…probably good neighbors. Nothing out and out freaky that he’d seen.
What did he know about this ‘party’?
“You already in?”
I nodded.
He blew a low, long whistle. “Well give one of the crazies my number so I can haul the remains home.”
“Big mistake, huh?”
“Nothing the ER can’t fix and you’ll recover. Guys who do it…” He tapered off.
“Ever done it?”
“I went as a guest, they’ll be a lot of lookers there, heard they kinda sell admission tickets….I could only look so much, left. Nobody died.” He turned back toward his cab.
“Vince?”
“Don’t ask me now, you already signed up for the E ticket ride. Call me when it’s over…if you can.” He and the cab rolled toward a too friendly group that had just left the Anchor and could probably use his services.
Why was it a nervous night? I screwed Willy hard, made it hurt, but just to make sure he was still beside me. Guess he noticed, said, “Buddy, this ain’t prison, we get out…remember some of the shit that went on there….”
Problem was I did. Still had dreams about what some guys had done to them…heard that, later, one or two them didn’t make it. Got blamed on shitty treatment in the prison hospital….maybe.
Early Saturday morning in the gym, ran into Syd, we both had the same idea, get pumped up. He felt me up, not just my cock and balls, but main muscle groups, smiled. “Oh yeah, you’ll fit right in.” He gave my tits a good squeeze and turn.
Told me to meet him by the service elevator, in the back by the exit to the alley, no point in letting VC know what we up to…no reason, just thought this wasn’t something the Marines would do…but based on the stories I’d heard, maybe he’d like this. I assumed the dress code, as long as you stayed dressed, was ‘casual’.
“Don’t bother to shave or shower…”
“Come as you are?”
He snickered, lifting my nuts, “Yeah…as you are.”
Back in the room, didn’t tell Willy much, what was to tell him? Just said probably get some sleep before we went would be a good idea…this didn’t seem like the sort of party where you could take a break, step outside, have a smoke, rejoin the gang; Once you were there…..
He slept, I stared at the ceiling….was glad VC didn’t have a mirror; I might have talked it over with myself, might have changed my mind….
Figuring not assuming anything about this was best, we wore as little as possible, old pants, T’s, sneakers and just because sex was involved, a jock. Turns out we guessed right, Herb and Syd looked even more like bums than we did.
“Sorry but this is real private, blindfolds until we get there…” Doubled bandannas, no electrical tape so, sure, we each got one.
Next did come as a surprise, Herb was behind me, Syd behind Willy which made it easy for them to do the police thing of hauling one arm up, hand around the mouth while I heard others join us.
Someone poked me in my pec.
“Oh, yeah, prime pork…they’ll fit right in. Get the gags and the cuffs, gotta get moving, we got people waiting.” Now was when the electrical tape was applied. Someone gave me a punch in the nuts, said, “Move”. Guess they got Willy too, heard him suddenly exhale. We moved.
Back into the hotel then into the freight elevator, going down. I could hear the wooden cage on the front of it go up, we were pushed out then, with someone on either side, walked/dragged down a passage. While I could still think I remembered that these sorts of areas were frequently honeycombed with underground service tunnels used to move freight, whatever. It wasn’t a long walk.
First things first. Whenever we got wherever we were going every thing we were wearing was stripped off, shoes pulled away, got a good thump in the sack just to remind me, I guess, Welcome to BDSM.
I was slung against a wooden thing, proved to be a simple cross where my arms were secured to the cross member with rope plus large metal cuffs. Around my neck sealing me to the up right, what was one off a garrote as I found when someone turned something and it tightened. Several turns around my abdomen with heavy rope, more around the waist, ankles, same as wrists heavy steel cuffs attached to the wood which, at this point, was now a V shaped. I was home for the duration.
“No reason for you not to join in.” The bandana was pulled away giving me a good look, well, sort of, as to where I was. If you’ve ever seen the basement storage room of any sort of business, you’ve see this place. For the occasion, or maybe they never were there, all whatever would normally be there had been removed. Bright lights shone in my face restricting my vision to just being able to see movement, shapes, hear noises but no definition of people, place or things. Herb was in my face.
“Way you worked that iron back in prison, you were an obvious candidate. Since you probably don’t know the rules here, this is BDSM, you’ve now been bound, discipline comes later followed by the S &M. Don’t need to tell you what that is do I?”
No way to answer although I had one.
“Thought you’d like to watch some of the things we do and are done…everyone here has one side or the other, some both. You’re mine. Now Willy, look over there, Syd has him for his first treat of the evening. I guess you couldn’t have known that he has a kind of warped split personality….well, you’ll see.”
Willy was seated, his arms outstretched, tied down, like mine, but what he was seated on was your basic fuck machine. His legs were held apart by a spreader then attached to some steels rings set into the concrete floor. Like me, he could see what was coming but there no gag, not then.
Herb gave me a play by play. “Okay, see that thing in Syd’s hand? that’s gonna replace a gag in Willy’s mouth, but just keep it open real wide, dentists use ‘em for patients who might bite….”
It was hard to figure out just what was going on. Syd got the thing in Willy’s mouth, fingered around then reached down and picked up a sort of pliers. “I gotta go help for this part.”
Herb got on the other side, got another set of pliers, stood there while Syd grabbed Willy’s tongue, pulled it out and fastened his set of pliers to an upright. Herb did pretty much the same but on the other side.
I had a sickening feeling….
“Okay, my man, time for you to get a body mod, one I like to give. First we’re gonna pierce your tongue then put in this here ball….” I guess they did, Willy was trying to squirm but….
“Now, that’s our goal, sort of like a hole in golf, that’s how far we need to putt the ball but….we’ll use this scalpel instead of a putter…nice ‘n slow, want a hole in one.”
I wanted to be sick. We were in too far, no way out and Willy was about to get what he probably never wanted….I couldn’t wait for what they had in mind for me and, no doubt, it was already planned.
“Slowly, slowly….oh yes, this is opening nicely…you got a good point, you’ll have two forks, just like a snake…now a little more….” I had seen guys with split tongues, once even got blown by one…odd feeling.
Herb was behind me rubbing my nipples, pinching them, checking to make sure however disgusted I was watching Willy get cut, I’d get hard. He got his wish.
“Hey, Syd, put a real pointy tip on one side, Ed here tells me he wants him to go into his piss slit….”
Syd paused, turned, raised a scalpel with blood on it, looked at us, winked and went back to his agonizing cut up the center. Tears were falling on Willy’s chest, nothing to do about it. Nothing.
“No reason you shouldn’t join in. See this?”
He held up what looked like one half of a fat steel cigar, popped it open, filled with teeth.
“Ever seen one like this? Teeth of Kali….goes right over that schlong you got up in front….thanks for getting hard…that makes it….”
He didn’t fill in the word, but I knew it, ‘worse’.
“Thirty six of these little points inside….” I didn’t see it but could feel he had a nasty smile. “Most times, they’re blunted, just leave a mark….lasts for months but…when whoever put this one together, well, they forgot and sharpened a few of them, course, no way of knowing which ones….I’ll just find out.”
He reached down, put half of it under my cock….waited so I could see the other half, get a good look, slowly closed it, locked it shut with a padlock. Found out why my throat was tight; He took the key from the lock, stuck it on my tongue, got my jaw closed….tried to fight him….that steel circle around my neck made it…impossible. Like you make a dog swallow a pill, he worked my jaw and my throat…I felt it go down….in me.
“Okay, lets get you situated. Uhmmmm….probably notice, well, feel, those teeth pushing into that fat meat…good advice….don’t get any harder….next thing, see this stem? Kind of a cock sound, goes right in the end….” He stopped while the long slim pipe was fitted through the hole at the end of the metal and into my dick. “Screws down, it’s hollow so you can piss or cum or let blood out…back in you about two inches, same as your steel shield….kinda the last word in putting you in chastity isn’t it?”
Jesus it hurt, that rod up my pole felt bigger than it looked…also, I’d been sounded before but this one…had little bumps on it…almost forced you to get hard, pushed your beef into the tacks inside the steel case.
“Hey, look, Syd’s about to finish Willy…”
What I could see was a drizzle of blood coming over his lip, the two parts of his tongue held by the pliers, the ball stuck through his tongue right where the slit ended.
“Gotta keep it that way, wait ‘til he can blow you, feel a tongue on both sides…”
Syd put down the scalpel, took some gauze four by fours, cleaned it up a bit then picked up something…..Holy Shit!!!!!! a cautery gun, the SOB was gonna fix his tongue so only radical surgery would put it back together.
He held it in front of his face, turned it on, see the glow on his eyeballs….then did the first patch way in the back. If he could have, he would have screamed, fuck, I almost did. Watching my partner get this….smelling the sizzle of flesh…
Herb had a comment. “Makes you wonder what you’re up for, don’t it?”
Still watching Willy get seared, I couldn’t think about me…just my buddy…thought about Vince, “the E ticket ride”. This went too much further. But…holy Jesus, my cock was getting stiff, felt my nuts begin to pull up. Herb noticed it also.
“Hey, buddy, can’t have that ball bag pull up, need it, maybe, for later.”
He fumbled around, found a metal circle.
“Like the thing on your dick only this goes around the top of your balls, got the same teeth, just not as many”….he slammed it around….”Some of these, don’t think this one, have nice long teeth, sink right in, cut through your cords, leaves a guy….well, you’ll still have a pair but they won’t be baby makers any longer…”
That one hurt, not like the one on my cock but, I guessed, he wasn’t finished with it….yet.
“Uh, now, what…oh…need to start tightening the points in your metal casing. See, all those were screwed in from the outside and can go further…including the ones that got sharpened.” He produced a very small screw driver, reminded me of the sort jewelers use, then put the tip of it in a very small slit, probably the top of a screw, then turned it.
The effect was instantaneous. I could feel the tip go into me, whether it was sharp or not, didn’t care, hurt like hell.
“Now you know how that works. I’ll just put it on this cord, drop it around your neck then, whenever someone pays, they get to make a turn or two…get to pick which screw….sort of keeps everybody wondering….course when blood comes out the front….” Just gave me a big smile.
“Hey, I see Syd’s about through with your buddy….”
It was not a pretty sight. However much pain I was in, looking at Willy made me beyond mad, beyond sick, beyond any emotion I’d ever felt. And I was stuck, unable to do anything.
Willy now had a split tongue plus a ball where the opening ended. I was horrified to discover….it was turning me on which meant my cock was getting stuck even deeper. I wanted to see if he could move it….what they would do next…but was afraid I might find out.
Herb was helpful. “Hardly wait for you to tell me how that feels on your ding dong, both sides at once….Jesus I envy you…Syd will do it but he’s chicken to have it done….Oh, hey, here comes a customer for you.”
He put a glass jar on a small table beside me with a sign:
“Two turns, $10.00
“Up to Five, $20.00
“Draw Blood Out the Spigot, $100.00 (Maximum of 20 turns)
“Unlimited, $10,000.00”
“Turns On Ball Band”
“One turn, $5.00”
“ Two turns, $10.00”
No more than ten turns per customer: Only 100 turns maximum.”
“One of the guys will be here to collect the money, make sure they only get what they pay for.” He drifted off while the first ‘customer’ dropped a Twenty dollar bill in the jar, took the screwdriver, looked into my eyes, “Jesus I envy you….the pain must be…wonderful….Hope I find one of the ones that has been sharpened.”
He didn’t.
Another five and he took a turn on the one around my bag…then got down, licked my head, going round and round the glans, humming, wishing, I guess, he was in my place….
I looked up to see Willy was going to be ‘split’ some more. Each ear lobe was pierced as was one nostril of his nose…blood was flowing freely until the cautery knife was applied. His eyes seemed to roll, not fix on anything, probably so deep in pain he’d fallen off reality…Jesus I hope so…when he had to confront himself…I didn’t know. All I had was pain.
Another guy took twenty turns and this time found two of the sharpened ones. I could feel them slide into my meat as deftly as a butcher cuts a slice from a fine steak.
And I wanted to CUM….Jesus fucking Christ I was getting off on this, hoping there’d be a line waiting to see how badly they could hurt me but the answer was…..Not Enough you mutherfuckers….Not Enough.
Herb had been watching. “You’re really into it, can tell, any time now you’ll spit your cum….I’m waiting for that, gonna lick it up…may have to lay down some cash to give you more of what you want….Pain. Tie you tighter.
I was getting the whole thing, all BDSM in one….that man knew something about me…maybe I wanted this…maybe…but just then what I wanted was some cocksucker to come up, pay the whole ten grand and wreck my dick….I wanted to see that tube just keep dripping blood and man milk and….whatever else…just, Oh God, turn those screws, take me as far into feeling until I couldn’t feel….Get those long fuckers stuck in that round thing above my nuts, maybe make me sterile, Jesus what a turn on, thinking I don’t know if I’ll ever cum again but right now, I’m coming forever….Just Give Me Pain….I guess that’s when I passed out.
A man stood there, smiling, or, maybe not. “Getting into it, yeah, you are…want something more? Just to move the action around?”
Jesus, I don’t know why I did it but..I nodded… ‘yes’…
“Good… good….good…..this one will go right here….” He held up a large unbarbed fish hook, pointed the sharp end down then ran it through my tit….
I wanted to scream. He held up another one, same thing, other tit…
No way to look down just the feeling of metal going through tender flesh..
“I’ll be back…keep selling those turns….fact is…I’ll take a few…he held up a ten, took the screwdriver, leaned down to the circle around my nut sack….
“I’m hoping for a bullseye…while you’re still a bull.”
He got his wish, my knees tried to come up, his second turn…aw fuck who cared…it all hurt until he walked away then I wanted him to come back, buy some more, get those sharpies stuck in me, I wanted to see the blood come out of the end…
Willy was dragged in front of me…they paused, pushed his face into mine…tears and oh holy shit, that tongue, split, the ball in it, now each flap was….stapled to the cheek. The ears, his nose…they hauled him on to a cross like mine, but him with his face toward the wood, stretched out his arms, tied them to the cross beam, put a spreader on his ankles, let them hang, his feet barely touching the floor.
Beside him was a bucket filled with various whips, canes, quirts….the sign said, “Two Strokes, Ten Dollars”
“Tiger Stripe, One hundred Dollarseach.”
“All others, Twenty dollars, five strokes.”
The first guy up dropped a hundred dollar bill on the floor, reached in took the sort of whip that has a small metal knob at the end of the leather….he took some tentative swipes on the floor, whirled it around…finally leaned back, put his whole body into it…you could see the blood come from one shoulder down to his ass…Tiger Stripe….I got hard…I’d dreamed about being striped…now he would be…why was Willy the focus? Okay, the screws in my dick hurt like hell but…they weren’t permanent.
Across the room I saw Herb get grabbed, hauled over to a kind of alcove into which he was secured by everything that could move. Not just rope, but steel pipes made into pressure bars that were screwed down, his hands, toes, arms…no way he could move then came a machine, looked a lot like a cannister vacuum cleaner. From it came two tubes….I remember what he said about the tubes…now I saw them. The machine was turned on, the larger tube was held over his cock which strained to respond to the suction and enter it. His nuts were also being sucked into a tube, clear, so you could see them squashed. I could see his eyes filled with dread and longing for what he wanted and feared. Some pushed something and the sound of the vacuum increased….that’s when the tube started to eat his meat…already hard.
The ‘party’ was in full swing. Watching Herb was….the equivalent of seeing him pneumatically butchered but very specifically. The tube for his cock tantalizingly hung just above his schlong…aching to be a banquet for the infernal machine that could not care, had no taste, was disinterested in the screaming it would cause….as with all machines, and some people, it just did what it was designed to do until it was turned off. As much agony as I was in, watching Herb stand on the precipice of having his meat….eaten….maybe forever was impossible to ignore. Only the sound of a whip made me turn away to see that Willy now had a second deep stripe, blood was trailing down the small of his back, leading to his ass….as it fell to the floor…was he pissing or shitting blood? I could see his cheeks grind in….what he wanted. What I knew he wanted, what he’d told me he wanted what I’d refused and now….
In front of me stood a Marine…VC…but his uniform was constructed from leather, looked as it it was glued to him.
“I run this so I get free turns…..” He took off his silvered aviators, looked into my eyes….saw what I feared he’d see. “Yeah, like all of us…the lure of wanting what only others can do to you….One son of a bitch even thought….” He laughed. “I cut off my own leg just to see how it felt…but I’m not that stupid or crazy…the two aren’t the same.”
He stood there, one hand languidly cupping his crotch, the other seizing the hook in my tit. “Oughta keep those in….says something about you…matter of fact…” I guessed…he knew me too well… “Always like my residents to have what they want…and you want this.” He held it in front of me and I knew….it was the first of several….I’d fought against this, like ink, you never get just one so I saw in front of me….that first one.
“For one this size, usually do a guys nose with a leather punch, makes a good size hole for a bull ring….good look for you….cuz you are a bull….one that stands at stud but that’s what bulls do, fuck for money…and the cheaper you look, the more you’ll be paid just have to accept that…..’course now what the customer may want is a little beyond fuck ‘n suck. Yep, quite a little bit.” He almost smiled. “Better move the two of you up to Five, Syd and Herb as well. Got a part up there…whoever screams isn’t likely to be heard. Sorry, it don’t look out on the street but….what the fuck…for what you’ll be doing, the money in your till, you can buy a view. If you’ve got time.”
He clamped the device through my septum….screaming pain which he suppressed by putting his hand over my mouth, holding down my tongue. “Don’t want to have two splits…now do we.” He whipped out a circle of steel, took two sides of it, bent it until there was just enough space to slip it in and through the hole. I had my bull ring, the thing I’d fought in my mind, jerked off thinking about and now….I could feel the cold metal almost covering my lip. VC stepped back. “Yep, not every man can have one and not look like a fool, you look like…..just what you are, a muscled up bull stud…only thing less it to weld that shut.”
Willy screamed as another stripe appeared, this one diagonally from the previous two. VC looked at him.
“ That’s it for now….he’s got what he wants….so’ve you. Time to let both of you lose then go watch the big show….Ever seen a man have his cock eaten? Don’t know, think about selling his nuts…only conditiong, gotta be eaten raw on the spot…let him watch. Whaddya think?”
He took the thing off my cock-I hadn’t thought it through but of course there was a spare key…had to be. Got a chair for me to just collapse on, one for Willy, too, his time was ‘over’ according to VC. Standing behind me, he fiddled with the hook in my nipple….. “Oh, yeah, couple of unbarbed Marlin hooks, look real good, just bend ‘em up, yeah, hot.”
I couldn’t watch what was happening to Herb, guess you had to be into what he was letting be done to him to find….something. VC said it wasn’t his thing but the tape they’re were making…..he didn’t need to finish.
Vince showed up, said almost nothing except to ask if either one of us wanted to go to an ER….only problem there was that there would be questions….some even in my own mind I couldn’t answer. Yet.
Three weeks later, living on the fifth floor, having free range to do whatever as well as a growing clientele for what we now did. Sure, we’d still fuck and suck, but that wasn’t the main attraction….not to us either.
But all that’s about all you need to know…..cuz…that’s all I’m going to tell you. Least ways for now.
Say this for living on the top floor, we get a roof to use. Oh, and it’s just as clean and cheap as the day we walked in…..Maybe more later….Maybe.
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