CHAPTER 11
“I like the idea of our young stud there fucking his brother again. Should I put him on the saw table and let him feel those nice vibrations too?” asked Mr. Larson.
“No,” replied Mr. Elliot, slowly, running his thumb and forefinger along his chin. “I’ve got a better idea. See that overhead hoist? The one with the motor on it?”
Above them ran a strong beam with a hoist on it. A motor had been bolted to the chain at some point for a reason long forgotten. If it was turned on, the hook at the end of the chain would slowly spin around and around.
For some reason Heath caught his breath when he realized it. He didn’t know what horrible purpose lurked in the man’s sick mind, but he knew he’d find out in a hurry.
When he saw Elliot pick up a wooden basket and then punch the bottom out of it with his fist, he knew what the plan was. And he didn’t like it one bit. But struggle as he might, he couldn’t hold the two men off as they lifted him and dumped him into the bottomless basket so that his ass poked out underneath.
Then they hoisted him up and fastened the basket to the overhead hook.
When Elliot flicked the switch, Heath had one moment of vertigo as he started to spin around and around. With his ass hanging down out of the basket, his aching asshole was exposed for whatever terrible thing they had in mind for him.
“Isn’t that about the nicest sight you ever saw?” said the man. “Lookit this.”
He drove his middle finger into Heath’s ass and the boy’s whole body swung in a circle around it. The motor actually made him fuck himself on the man’s finger. Heath gasped when he pushed it in to the knuckle. If it hadn’t been for the traces of jism still left in him from every other man who’d been up there tonight, Heath knew the finger might have torn delicate tissue in his aching ass.
He’d been fucked too many times not to be sore in every part of him. But he knew they were just getting started—and he understood the full horror of that when they pushed his brother down onto the floor beneath him, Mark’s cock aimed straight up at Heath’s slowly spinning hole.
“Lower the kid a little bit. More, more, there. Stop. Right on target. Like it, stud?”
Mark grunted as he felt the pucker of his little brother’s asshole rub against the tip of his knobby, already fuck-sensitive head. But the promise of having Heath rotating around his cock was almost too much for him. He nearly came right there.
“Got the other motor working yet, Jim? I want him to get the full benefit of this.”
Heath gasped when he felt himself being lowered. The way Mark’s prick entered him took his breath away. Wedged as tight as he was in the little basket, he was completely helpless. And when the cock pressed into the tightly closed ring, it felt as if his brother were fucking him with a telephone pole instead of a prick.
“God, it’s so biiiig,” he muttered.
The sensation wasn’t too bad. He didn’t like being bent double in the basket, but that even proved to be a turn-on. His chest was jammed hard against his upper thighs, and his nipples rubbed against his knees. Every time he twisted a little, a twinge went through him.
The motors pulled him up and off Mark’s prick. He clenched his ass and tried to hang onto him. But he was too slick inside from everything that had already been in him tonight.
“Damn you, damn you to hell,” groaned Mark. “Either let me fuck him or get him the hell away.”
“So he wants to ball his own brother. I can’t believe it. These kids today are something else. They get hard-ons and they’ll fuck any hole, no matter whose it is. Why, that’s your brother, kid. Your brother.”
“Yes, and I want him to fuck me,” cried Heath.
He could hardly believe he was saying that. Before the evening started he’d hardly even known things like this existed, and now he knew he’d never be able to get enough of his brother’s cock.
“Turn the motors on full speed and see how the kid likes that.”
When he began spinning faster and faster, Heath nearly passed out from the motion. But grimly he held on, and when he was lowered onto his brother’s prick again, he found paradise.
The spinning motion actually corkscrewed the cock up into him in a new and incredibly different way. Most people would never get to feel the way that prick drove up into a seething hot hole.
And him just fucked for the first time only hours ago.
“Love it,” he sighed. “Love it to death.”
When the two men laughed harshly, he knew he shouldn’t have said that. It only reminded them—and him—that he was going to be dead soon. When he stopped pleasing them, or when the dawn light brought students and staff back to school, they’d be killed, and quickly. He didn’t know how or where, but it hardly mattered.
He decided to grab all the pleasure he could out of his brother’s prick drilling so hot and fine into him. He closed his eyes and imagined it was the cock spinning around instead of his own body. The feeling coursed into him, warmed him with the friction, made him respond in new and amazing ways.
He came. Even though his aching balls were empty at this point, they tried, making them hurt even worse. But Heath was immune to pain at this point, just focused on the feeling of his brother’s cock spinning and fucking him.
Heath screamed and thrashed as well as he could in the tight confines of the basket and the stocks. Mark’s cock plunged in and out of his convulsing hole several times before he came down off the high.
Then he heard something that made him wonder what the hell was going on.
A deep buzzing sounded. A cutting noise.
Opening his eyes made him dizzy for a second, and then he saw. Len had worked his way off the saw and got his head down to the tabletop. With one quick motion, while both men were busy watching the up-and-down fucking of brother and brother, Len cut the stocks off himself.
For a second he stood there, numbed by the sudden removal of his bonds. He rubbed his wrists and his neck. Then he bolted for the door.
Heath held his breath, wondering if either man would see him and go running after.
Len was their only hope now. Heath almost cried at the thought. Naked, abused, fucked, the circulation not even back in his wrists yet—and Len was their only hope. It was almost laughable. But hope was hope.
“Shit,” cried Mr. Larson. “The blond faggot got away.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, how’d you let him cut those stocks off like that? I thought you were going to turn the saw off so he couldn’t do it. Shit, get after him. If he finds a cop, it’s our asses in a sling.”
Mr. Larson rushed out the door, paused, looked up and down the halls, and called back, “He’s not in sight. I don’t know which way he went. Come help me find him, dammit, or we’re both going to swing for this.”
The principal snarled something under his breath that Heath couldn’t hear. Then he walked over and glared down at him.
Straining in the basket, Heath looked up into the man’s eyes and saw only stark hatred. He was confused. He didn’t know why Elliot hated him like this.
“Got to find that blond friend of yours before he does something really dumb, like get the cops. But I don’t want you and your loving brother thinking I’m neglecting you. I’m going to leave you here, just like this. Don’t go away.”
Laughing harshly, he turned and left.
“Don’t go away,” grunted Mark, from underneath him. “How the hell are we supposed to escape? I’ve still got the stocks on, and they tied my feet to the table. All I can do is lie here and let your ass come down over me.”
“Is that so bad?” sighed Heath.
But he knew the answer. They had to try to escape this trap, and it had to be now, while Len was loose. If the men got the three of them together again, they’d kill them.
Visions of movies he’d seen about murders with chainsaws went through his mind. However Elliot did it, it wasn’t going to be nice.
But he almost liked this. There was so little required of him to drive that lovely pecker of his brother’s all the way up into him. And the idea that they were finally alone made his insides feel funny. He wanted his brother. Badly. But did it have to be like this? In such an uncomfortable position?
He tried to relax as the motors drove him up and down on the prick. Whoever had developed the hoist certainly hadn’t had this kind of odd fucking in mind, but the design work was superb. Heath could close his eyes, spin around, drop a little lower, and feel the turgid head of his brother’s cock poke against the ring. And then Mark surged all the way into him as the basket came down further.
The in-and-out of this bizarre fucking wasn’t as fast as Heath would have liked, but he couldn’t have everything. The stocks stopped him from moving much, and the basket held him exactly in position for his brother’s prick.
“Ummmm, that feels so good,” he sighed. “I want more of it. Can you really fuck me good in this position?”
“I—I guess so. It’s pretty nice, isn’t it? In spite of everything.”
Heath didn’t have to ask what the “everything” was. He knew. But if they could forget about Elliot for a while, it would be their private revenge on the man. He didn’t want them enjoying this fucking. If they did, it would show him.
The cock nudged its fat, swollen head against the ring and drove wetly deeper. Heath felt the basket spinning, pulling at the prick. He tensed up a little and let the walls of his ass collapse in around it. He heard Mark groan, and then he followed his lead. The feelings ripping through his sore hole were better than anything that had been done to him tonight.
The warmth of the friction seemed to melt away all his aches. Nerves he’d barely known he had came to life, singing. He loved the feel of himself trying to spin around the cock. It was a twisty-turning feeling that gave him a thrill he’d never had before. It was like the best carnival ride ever.
Most of all, the hot, rigid length of it told him his brother was right there, and willing to give him everything. As he bounced up and down, his excitement mounted fast. His breath came in tortured gasps. It was as if sandpaper lined his throat, it was so harsh.
His worst feeling came from his own cock, still standing up hard between them and begging for attention it couldn’t get. He tried pressing his legs together. It wasn’t possible—he was already wedged as tight as he’d go. He had to rely on the impaling spike of Mark’s prick to do the work.
And it did it well.
Heath gasped now every time it came into him. The way it pulsed and jerked inside told him Mark was as turned on by this as he was. It didn’t seem possible they could feel anything but hate for this, and yet they didn’t.
Tensing around the long, hot poker of the thing, he imagined he could feel every contour. The thick purpled head of it filled him, stretched him, brought him alive. The girth of the shaft behind it throbbed. And he thought he could feel the big vein on top of it beating in time with his brother’s heart.
He loved it.
His excitement grew. He began rocking back and forth in the basket, adding to the motion the motors gave him. That drove the cock deeper. And spinning faster gave him more friction inside.
Heath knew he couldn’t possibly cum again, but he wanted this to last forever.
When he realized it didn’t matter whether he cried out, he let loose with a long, heartfelt yell of joy.
“I—oh, Mark, this is great. I want more, more!”
This was better than any drug could possibly be. He’d never tried drugs, and now he didn’t need to. All he had to do was let his brother Mark fuck the hell out of him.
This was living.
“God, little bro, you’re sucking my prick like you had your mouth wrapped around it. I don’t know how you do it. Never felt a hole that could make me feel that way.”
Heath could barely hear him. His mind was glazed over from sex. He just wanted to drift along in the fuzzy afterglow of a fine fucking.
His muscles protested the bent-double position and his ass was starting to cramp. Having Mark’s cock driven into him over and over was nice, but he wished it could be done in a less confined position.
Still, the confinement added something that wouldn’t have been there otherwise. He was completely at his brother’s mercy. Never mind that Mark was as bound as he was. Heath couldn’t move—his hands and neck were through a wooden stocks and his whole body was in a bottomless wood basket. The very constraint added to his enjoyment in some weird way.
He didn’t try to understand it. He just enjoyed it more. He struggled uselessly against the sides of the basket. Hearing them creak and groan only spurred him on.
“Heath, my balls…” Mark groaned. “It feels like somebody put them in a vise and is tightening it. Can’t last much longer. Gotta come, just gotta—oh, oh shiiiit.”
Heath felt the basket drop and spin around the tip of his brother’s cock. His hole was blazing hot, and he knew the tightness was doing its work on Mark. It certainly was on him.
Mark came again.
Heath felt the prick buck and jerk and then geyser out a steady flood of white-hot jizz. It shot against the walls of his ass and made them clamp down even harder. He knew his big brother’s cock would deflate. And he hated that! He wanted more.
His body jerked and convulsed and tried to thrash freely, and the basket stopped it—for a few seconds. Then came a tearing sound, and he found himself lying full length on top of his brother with Mark’s still-shooting prick buried deep in him.
Heath bounced up and down a few times to drive it in even deeper, then relaxed. Mark sighed and whispered hotly in his ear, “That was super, bro. Really great. I just wish—”
Then it hit both of them.
Heath was out of the basket and could move around. And the saw was still turned on. He could free himself just the way Len had.
“Go to it, Heath,” Mark urged. “Get those stocks off and then get me free. I want to get even with those slimy sons of bitches so bad I can taste it.”
“Me too,” Heath agreed.
It was harder sawing the stocks off than he’d expected, but he did it. In less than five minutes he had Mark free.
Naked, bruised, used, they stood there looking at each other. It seemed the most natural thing in the world for them to embrace and kiss.
But it wasn’t a very brotherly kiss. Not the way they did it.
