CHAPTER 10
Heath came to with the sharp sting of slaps across his face.
The wood ring around his neck chafed his skin every time his head bounced around like a rubber ball from the blows. But he struggled back to consciousness far enough to make Mr. Elliot stop hitting him.
“I want you to see this,” the man said, half-chuckling.
Heath knew that anything that amused the sadistic bastard wouldn’t please him any at all.
He tried to take inventory of everything that hurt. It took a while, because he ached all over. Most of all, his asshole hurt terribly. It ached, it burned. From the time Mr. Elliot had had him the first time to the time he’d been strapped onto the lathe and the wooden dowel had turned so powerfully inside him, he had ached.
He didn’t think most men twice his age had had their asses used as much—or misused as much—as he had in the last few hours.
And in spite of all of it, he still wanted cock shoved up into him.
The kid didn’t understand it. The thought of having either Mr. Larson or the principal fuck him was alien. He hated them with a passion few would ever know. But they’d awakened something inside him that wouldn’t die down. He wanted his brother in a way that wasn’t even remotely brotherly. He wanted Mark’s prick, and he wanted it all for himself.
He wanted to feel Mark fucking him, using that prick the way only Mark could, giving them both the ultimate pleasure. The idea of another man doing such a horrid thing to him made him shudder. But his brother was different. Mark cared about him.
Whatever else the two men had done to him, they’d brought out his love for his brother. He could spend the rest of his life happily with Mark, fucking all night and never wanting another man in it.
The horrors might have warped him, but he didn’t think so. Another kid might have sworn off the whole business, cursing them and everything they had to offer. If anything, Heath believed this experience, awful as it had been, had broadened him immensely. He’d enjoyed what he’d done with Len, but he knew it could never replace his brother’s prick for giving him all the pleasure he could handle.
When they got out of this.
If they got out of it.
Heath backed away from the hand as Mr. Elliot slapped him hard across the face again.
“Don’t. Please,” he begged. “That hurts.”
“Good. Now you’re paying attention. Suck your brother’s cock until he’s nice and hard. Then we’re all going to have some big fun.”
Heath didn’t like the sound of that. Fun didn’t come easily around here. But he wasn’t about to turn down the chance at Mark’s prick again.
He licked his lips as he watched Mr. Larson sit Mark down on the edge of the bench saw. Mark’s legs were spread wide and his prick hung down limp and tired between them.
He’d make that cock alive and throbbing for him. Just give him the chance.
“The little faggot looks hot to give his brother a blow job,” said Larson. “I swear, these kids today are sex-hungry. Never saw anything like it.”
“Aw, shut up and watch. This is going to be fun. When he gets him good and hard, then I’m going to—”
The man’s statement was cut off by a curt shake of the principal’s head. It was obvious Elliot didn’t want the shop teacher spilling the beans too early.
But Heath didn’t pay them much attention. He’d worked out that as long as he kept them happy, they wouldn’t kill him and Mark and Len. But as soon as they got tired of this little sexual game, the three of them were dead meat.
He dropped to his knees and found the distance just about right. He had to strain a little, because of the stocks around his neck, but he got his lips to the tip of his brother’s cock.
He sucked. Hard.
Mark groaned and started to fall back on the table, then stopped, realizing how close the saw blade was. He scooted forward a little and immediately let out a sigh.
“Ummm, your mouth. It feels so good, and after fucking Len’s sawdusty ass…”
His voice trailed off as he moaned again. Heath didn’t want him talking. He’d rather Mark just enjoyed what he could offer.
Heath worried that he might not be doing this properly. He had so little experience at giving head. He cursed under his breath in a most uncharacteristic way.
Never again.
This was too much fun. And with his brother. He didn’t know what it would be like with other men. He’d have to find out. But those thoughts were quickly buried under the delight surging into him as he let his tongue move wherever it wanted on Mark’s cock.
The limp prick stirred a little and he knew he was doing as good a job as he could. He had to play it by ear and make sure he didn’t hurt him.
His tongue worked hard at the underside of the shaft. It made the cock jerk and twitch like a spastic worm, but it also got the thing slowly stiffening. Heath sucked harder until his cheeks hollowed and he nearly passed out for lack of air. He wanted this to be the best blow job his brother had ever had.
He didn’t care what the two men had in store once he got Mark hard. He’d reached the point where any humiliation would just be ignored. There was nothing left they could do to him that mattered.
They’d tied him up. They’d had him up the ass for the first time. They’d double-fucked him, made his brother fuck him, used the lathe to do horrible things to him, and come all over his face.
There was nothing left in the way of degradation they could throw at him. Even making him eat his best friend’s cock after they’d pissed on him didn’t have the impact it once did. He was hardening, toughening—and learning to enjoy all of it.
“Hey, is his prick hard enough yet? Looks it to me.”
“Only about halfway there, but he got him up faster than I’d have thought. The kid really likes to suck cock, I guess. Hell, let him suck on your prick again when he’s done with his brother.”
Done with his brother.
The damning words burned loud and clear in Heath’s ears. He shouldn’t be doing this. It had been pounded into him by his parents and the church that it was a horrible sin.
Fuck it.
He loved the taste, he loved the feel, he loved the male musk all over his brother’s prick. He’d never give it up. Never.
His tongue looped out and spiraled down the whole length of the cock. He teased the loose flesh until it came taut and pulsed against his tongue. Then he tried to lick Mark’s balls, only to be pulled away by Mr. Elliot.
“Enough of that, kid. We’ve got other plans for your dear brother. Get the blond kid over here, Mike.”
A rough hand shoved Heath down to the floor. He sat in the middle of a pile of sawdust and, for the first time, understood what Len had gone through when the two men had forced Mark to fuck him on that table.
What he witnessed wasn’t pretty, and he knew that one slip from either of them would mean hell to pay.
Mr. Larson had planted Len on the saw table and spread his legs obscenely wide. Mr. Elliot had then positioned Mark so that his prick shot into the boy’s tight hole.
And then the spinning blade was turned on.
“God, no!” moaned Len, feeling the hot blade whirling inches from his ass. “You can’t do this. It’s inhuman.”
“Shut up and fuck. The sooner you get it over with, the sooner we turn the saw off. Of course, if you happen to brush against the blade while it’s running—tough shit.”
“Yeah, and you, stud, fuck him good. To make sure you do, we’re gonna be whipping that tight ass of yours.”
To show he meant it, Mr. Larson swung a short length of rope and smashed it across Mark’s butt, leaving a long red welt.
But the stroke had the effect he wanted. When Mark flinched away from it, it drove his cock all the way up into Len. The boy groaned and nearly leaned back onto the table, only to feel the hot, spinning blade a fraction of an inch from his skin.
“Keep fucking, damn you.”
The rope sang its evil song as Larson beat Mark across the back and shoulders with it. Heath watched in sick horror as his brother reluctantly began to obey. Mark shoved his hips forward tentatively, not wanting to scoot Len into the blade with the force of it.
“Tighten down on my prick,” Mark commanded, “and I’ll try to pull you away.”
It wasn’t much, but it was all he could do. With their hands and necks so securely fastened in the stocks, there wasn’t any other way of getting the boy away from the whirling death of the saw. Mark groaned and pulled backwards.
Heath held his breath.
He knew what his brother was trying, and how much it must be costing him. It would feel to Mark like his prick was being pulled out by the roots. But it worked. Panting, sweating, Mark got Len a few inches back from the blade.
“Fuck him, dammit, fuck him good.”
Again came the rope, whirring through the air in counter-tempo to the buzz of the saw. Mark yelped but said nothing. He just started using short, quick strokes into the open, willing hole. Between the two of them they’d have to work out some system where Len didn’t get his ass cut off and still pleased the two demented men urging them on.
Mark grunted and did his best. Len kept slipping and sliding away from him every time he drove in hard. And every time he did, it put the boy a little closer to hot steel. Mark gritted his teeth as he felt the ring clamp down even harder on his cock. He pulled back, feeling Len’s whole body sliding around his rigid prick.
“Let me fasten my legs around your waist, Mark,” Len panted.
He lifted his legs and locked his ankles behind Mark’s back—and found that Mr. Larson didn’t like this particular innovation. It was obvious he wanted to see blood while they fucked.
“Get those little ankles undone,” he snarled.
His rope landed hard across one of Len’s calves, and Heath could actually see the muscle knot and start to jump.
“And keep the kid fucking. I don’t like all this wasted time. Get to it, you two. You’re the big stud, and you’re the hot ass. Let’s see some action, or we might run you across the blade regardless.”
The threat convinced Mark that the only way out was to please the men.
He began poking tentatively in and out of Len’s hole, wondering what it would have been like to fuck him under other circumstances. He decided it would have been damned fine screwing.
Len was tight—almost as tight as Mark’s little brother had been. And Len could clamp down on a cock, or go slack so that the ring worked and fluttered all around the base of it. The tickling took away Mark’s normally good control and made him want to come like a kid getting his first piece.
Most of all, Mark noticed that the vibration from the saw made his cock quiver inside the boy just like a giant vibrator. But no vibrator had ever been this warm, this thick, this alive.
Len closed his eyes and let the cock drive in and out of him at just the right speed. The way his ass shook on the table was relaxing, and he found his own cock getting harder and harder—vibrating over his flat belly as the running saw shook the table.
“More, Mark. Give me all you’ve got. To hell with the saw blade. Forget it. Just give me that sweet prick of yours all the way up me.”
His whole body convulsed as Mark’s prick brushed the spot inside him. The motion of the table, combined with the way the cock shot in and out of him, was incredible. His legs tightened on Mark’s sides—and then he abandoned even that grip when Larson started whipping his legs.
He couldn’t take the pain along with the pleasure. There was something alien and ugly about hurting while he was being fucked, and he didn’t like it one bit. And the heat off the blade whirring a fraction of an inch from his body kept him aware of exactly where he was.
“More?” Mark asked.
He was sweating and didn’t want to push this much further, in spite of the way his balls ached and threatened to blow at any second. He knew that if he lost control, the boy might be shoved into the jagged edge and he wouldn’t be able to help him until it was too late.
“Yes,” Len whispered hotly. “Give me all the cock you can and to hell with those motherfuckers.”
The blond boy wanted nothing more than to feel the cock rip through him again. The warmth in his guts spread and puddled in his belly like molten lead. He loved it and he wanted more.
Relaxing was hard, but he did it. The vibrating table under his ass gave new life to his prick and the cock fucking him. He wouldn’t have traded the experience for anything. Len could almost forget how he’d come to be in this spot, so great was his enjoyment.
“After, Mark. After we get loose,” he stuttered, “can we do this again?”
“Yesssss,” Mark hissed through his teeth.
He was finding it harder and harder to keep the rhythm smooth and even. The way his balls had drawn up, he knew it wouldn’t be long before Len pulled every drop out of him.
He’d thought his brother had an educated mouth, the way he’d gotten him up so fast. But he had to admit Len’s hole wrapped around him even better. The kid did things to him no one else ever had. He couldn’t describe what it was. A hot hole was nice no matter whose it was. But this was more—the way he could string Mark along, massaging the whole length of him, giving him all the pleasures he’d been missing.
His brother was good, and he’d loved fucking him. But with Heath it had been the thrill of the illicit that gave the real zest to it. With Len it was different.
He held back the fiery tide long enough to ram in and out a few more times. The quivering of the table worked its magic on the blond boy’s cock and shot jizz up over his belly and chest.
Mark’s balls were just about to unload with he found himself flying across the room, unable to break his fall with his bound hands.
“Hell, I didn’t think those two would enjoy it that much,” Mr. Elliot snarled. “Did you hear that little queer? He actually wants to do it again. And us not even there to watch.”
“Sick,” said Mr. Larson, slapping the rope across his palm. “And to think of all the hours we’ve spent giving them the benefit of our vast sexual knowledge.”
Heath felt sick to his stomach when he saw the ragged wounds on Len’s tiny ass.
The boy had slipped just enough to let the blade gouge into the white flesh. Another couple of seconds and he might have taken a really serious cut from the serrated edge. And all because the two men had stood there gloating and laughing at them.
Those bastards, Heath thought.
