CHAPTER 4
Noises from the hard fucking filled the small shop.
Heath was conscious of only a part of the sounds of his rape, because he was in a shell-shocked condition, like a soldier in the front ranks. His body was numbed and his head didn’t seem to work just right. He felt the man’s prick working hard in his ass, but it was almost a disconnected thing, distant, happening to somebody else.
The speed of the fucking picked up as the man’s passions mounted. He grunted and struggled to fuck the living hell out of the boy. Heath remained almost impassive to what he was doing. He could respond later — if he felt like it.
“Goddamn, he’s like some sort of zombie. What’s the matter, kid, you a corpse? Hey, Jim, maybe you can fuck his corpse. Never tried necrophilia. What’s it like?”
“His ass is too fucking hot for him to be a stiff,” the man panted.
The principal struggled to control his own come. The way his balls had hardened and threatened to explode at the lightest touch made him too conscious of his task. He didn’t want to jet out like some teenaged kid getting his first piece of tail. He wanted to show the boy how a real man did it. And by damn, he would.
His prick shot in and out of the agitated hole even faster. The friction of cockhead against the boy’s ass-walls threatened to melt his prick to limp flesh, but he still maintained the furious rate. Nothing mattered any more except stuffing his cock as far up the boy as he could get it.
He tossed his head like a stallion to get the sweat out of his eyes. Then he looked down between his legs and saw the action going on. His prick vanished into the tight ring of the boy’s ass. He drove the spit-slicked prick in with all the power locked in his body. And the sight of his balls wetly slapping against the boy’s own did him in. He felt the fierce tide of his come rising along the length of his cock. Fighting it down did no good.
Inch by slow inch it advanced until it spewed forth from the piss-slit of his cock. He flooded the tight hole with the first load of jism it had ever taken. That thought drained his balls completely.
“Jesus, that was a fine fuck,” he said, pulling away.
Heath simply lay there over the table, cheek on the wood, looking back at him with dazed eyes. He might have been the corpse Mr. Larson had accused him of being.
Whent the principal pulled out, the ring came with him, clinging to the shaft, and then let go with a wet little pop. Heath felt the air hit the inside of himself for the first time, cold and strange. He felt the load shift. And then it started to run, a thick slow trickle of it sliding down behind his balls and over the inside of his thigh, and there was nothing he could do about it because his hands were still locked in the stocks.
He could only lie there and feel himself leaking another man’s come.
“He didn’t seem to get off on you too much, Jim,” the shop teacher observed. “Let me have a go at him and see if he likes the feel of my cock any better.”
“Okay, man, if it’s sloppy seconds you want, go on. I’ll say this for him — he’s still going to be nice and tight for you. No sag in that hole at all.”
Mr. Elliot sat down on the edge of the saw table and flicked his limp prick back and forth to shake loose a thick droplet of jizz still clinging to the very tip. It landed on the floor between his boots. He didn’t bother to look at it.
“I don’t want any sloppy seconds after you,” Larson said. “I was thinking — you’ve opened him up. He’s never going to be tighter than he is right now, and he’s never going to be hotter. Let me have him while he’s hot.”
The words shocked Heath out of his daze.
It had been pleasant to simply drift along with whatever they did to him. He could let his body ache and hurt and it didn’t bother him too much. The soft gauze of shock kept him insulated from the worst of it.
But to go through it all over again, right now, with a bigger man, while he was still raw and open and leaking — that would be murder.
“No, you can’t do that!” Heath protested. “Y-you’ll tear me apart! I’ll bleed to death if you stuff that big prick of yours up my ass!”
“Oh, listen to the mouth on this one,” taunted Mr. Larson. “I knew the kids today were hip on a lot of things, but filthy words like that just make me horny. I’ve got to fuck him now. Hear that, kid? You’re the one responsible for me wanting to get up your tight little ass!”
“No!” Heath sobbed.
The tears ran down his cheeks now, without shame. He could hardly control his emotions as they ran wild. He didn’t want this to happen. Having another prick up his ass was more than he could bear.
He had been shocked when he saw Mr. Elliot stuff his prick up Stu’s and then Len’s asshole. And what had rocked him even more was the way his body had responded. His own cock had gotten raging hard and leaked like a faucet. But now he’d found out what it was like…
“Y-you wouldn’t!”
“Hell if I wouldn’t, kid. But first, I got to make sure your ass is ready for me. You just bend that sweet ass up in my direction.”
The man’s hands moved him into the position he wanted. Never had Heath felt more vulnerable in his life. With the stocks around his hands and head he couldn’t move very well at all. And now that he was being bent double over the edge of the table, he found himself even less able to get away.
Heath found out Mr. Larson’s true intentions quickly.
He didn’t intend to simply fuck him up his cute ass. He meant to make sure the boy’s ass was on fire before he began.
He heard a whistling noise, and then pain ripped through his butt.
He spanked him with a rough wooden board with several small holes bored into it. The holes kept the air from backing up and cushioning any blow. The air whistled through them instead, and let the full force of the swat collide with the boy’s little ass.
Heath was hammered forward into the tabletop. The edge of it cut into his belly and made him even more conscious of the pain in his body. The paddling warmed his ass, and then gave him incredible pain as the board landed again and again on his bottom.
“I like this,” Mr. Larson said. “I like the way it leaves little circles on his ass.”
He landed a few more swats on the upturned rear to demonstrate his discovery for the principal. The man seemed to approve, because he said, “I’ll have to get one of those for my office. I’ve been using my wooden ruler on their asses.”
“Too old fashioned. Get modern, man. Like this.” Whistle, crack. “God, this turns me on.”
The paddle kept finding flesh. Heath cried harder, not caring if they saw him. Never in his life had he felt more helpless, more degraded. He was totally under their control and couldn’t do anything thing about it. They went on tormenting him with the board until he was certain his ass would be bloodied as well as black and blue.
Then a rough hand was on him, massaging the slabs of his cheeks, spreading them, testing them.
“About ready, don’t you think,” Larson said. “Feel the ass. Warm to the touch. And that means his hole’s going to be flaming hot.”
“Get it on, Mike, get it on,” urged the principal. “My cock’s getting hard again just thinking about you fucking him up the butt. If you don’t do it, I’ll stick that ass again.”
Larson didn’t give him time to act on the threat.
He reached down behind the boy to pushed the cheeks apart. Then Heathe gulped, because the thick shaft of the man’s cock had come down into the deep canyon between the slabs of his ass and the throbbing head of it was already seeking, already hunting, already finding the puckered hole.
Heath tensed everything he had, hoping he could keep the prick out of his guts this time. When he felt the first insistent prodding he knew he was kidding himself. Nothing short of a complete ass-fucking was going to satisfy this man. He wanted to bury his prick all the way up the boy’s back and nothing was going to stop him short of it.
“Loosen that ass, baby,” he urged. “Hell, my cock’s going to be better than anything you ever felt in your whole goddamned life. I’m going to fuck the hell out of your butt, and then I’m going to fill you with my white hot jizz.”
“I hope you burn in hell for this!” Heath raged.
He kept his muscles as tight as he could to keep the man out. The thick head nudging at the clenched ring and he vowed he was never going to let him up his rear passage. No matter how he ripped and tore him, no matter how he spanked him, no matter how he tortured him, Heath was not going to let him fuck his asshole.
Good intentions pave the road to hell.
He tried. He couldn’t hold out for long. Larson hadn’t put anything on his prick, but he didn’t need to — the boy was already loaded with Elliot’s slick and the way had already been plowed— and Larson was determined to get in.
And he finally did.
The cock exert more and more pressure on the tiny muscle holding the door shut. Gasping with pain, he tried to keep him out, and then the muscle slowly gave under the intense force the man was applying. The knobby head of it plunged through the tight ring and made him gasp out loud.
After that it was easy for Larson to stuff the swollen prick all the way up him. Inch by burning inch, he fucked into the boy’s shit chute.
“You’re tearing me aparrrrrt!” Heath screamed.
He thrashed around on the table and the wood stocks banged loudly against the top. The concussion of it rattled him a little and calmed him down, but he found it hard to simply relax the way he had with Mr. Elliot. There was no way he could drift off into a dazed trance and let this man do whatever he pleased with his body.
This time the pain kept him alert, awake, aware.
It had been bad the first time. There weren’t words for the way Mr. Larson’s prick ripped him apart. Heath just knew he was bleeding to death from this painful fucking. Nothing less could produce the pain and agony racing up along his spine and smashing into his brain.
Then he felt the man’s balls banging against his own.
And, to his surprise, the drops leaking out of his own cock was his own precum.
He damned himself silently for responding to the brutal butt-fucking. Yet he couldn’t hold his body a prisoner to its desires. It seemed to have a mind of its own and took control from him at the most perverted times.
The precum ran out off his own cockhead and strung to the tabletop in a long unbroken thread. The sight of it spurred Larson on to really fuck his butt. He knew the kid wanted him, no matter what he said.
“You like it, don’t you, kid?” he demanded.
He had to gulp once or twice to keep his voice level. Never had he felt a shit chute this tight or this flaming hot. He was sure the boy was going to melt him down to a puddle of liquid prick. The heat was that intense. And the tightness of the passage was something to marvel at. Not once in all his days of butt-fucking had he found a kid with an ass this tight.
And he loved it.
“Go to hell,” Heath sobbed.
“Why? I’ve found heaven up your asshole.”
And then he began pulling out slowly.
He didn’t yank his prick out. The slow inch-by-inch retreat built an intense vacuum behind the head of it, and it made Heath feel like the man was dragging his guts out with his cock. He could feel them coming, could feel something inside himself being pulled along behind the head of it. When the vacuum broke at the ring, there was a lewd noise like a loud fart, and the man laughed.
“Now that that’s out, I can fill you even more with this.”
He rammed forward, and he didn’t take it slow and easy this time.
Heath shrieked in pain as the man stretched his tender insides in new and unexpected directions. Positive he was dying, he thrashed around trying to get away from the punishing prick coming so fast up his spine.
Waves of red pain blanked out his mind. He couldn’t think about anything except the horrid feelings ripping him apart from the inside. Then, as the tender ring stretched and opened and gave way, he relaxed a little.
This wasn’t as bad as it could have been. He didn’t feel as if he were being torn apart any more. Sure, the full feeling stayed with him, and it stayed ugly, the prick bucking and jostling around in his rubbery tight ass — but he knew that this time no blood was flowing. He wasn’t going to die of this, although the pain had made him think it was possible.
“So fucking tight, I can’t believe it,” the man told his partner. “I want to get the most of this, but his asshole is like a goddamn hangman’s noose. It’s cutting me off.”
“Shut up and keep fucking. It’ll relax when you start warming his guts with the friction.”
“Yeah, sure. Easy for you to say.”
But he tried to do what Mr. Elliot suggested. He pulled out and rammed back into the seething ass with an easy stroke. He jerked and pushed a bit when he buried the prick to the hilt, and then came out more smoothly. The urgency of his need had died down a little and now he was able to fuck the boy with nice, long, smooth strokes.
Heath thought he was going to go out of his head.
The ragged, uneven fucking had been torture. Now the long strokes in and out of his ass built up the heat in his own cock with a terrible ferocity. He didn’t know which was worse, feeling as if he was going to die, or wondering if he might explode inside.
In some part of his brain he recognized that the man was butt-fucking him hard enough to make him want to come.
The sexual tension threatened to rip him apart inside, and then it did.
He came with the full fury of his first orgasm.
His whole body locked up. His cock jumped under him and started throwing — long ropes of it spattering the tabletop and strung down off the edge and his own belly. His ring clamped down so hard on the man’s prick that Larson had to stop moving. His heels drummed the floor. He made a sound he’d never made in his life.
He’d been raped, and ass-fucked for the first time, and whipped, and tied up, and now butt-fucked a second time — but the payoff had come.
“Christ, the little punk likes it!” Mr. Larson exclaimed. “And that asshole of his is like a guillotine around my cock. When he came I thought he was going to chop me off at the balls.”
His words made Heath begin to think.
He might not be as helpless as it seemed on the surface. Sure, he was imprisoned in the wooden stocks with his hands and neck completely immobile. The way the man had his legs spread and had him bent over the edge of the table insured that he couldn’t possibly run away, even if he’d had the strength left, which he didn’t.
But one course of action was still wide open to him.
If he made the man get his rocks off fast, the man would have to leave him alone. No man can fuck with a dead prick. And the best way Heath could think of to deflate that swollen thing was to play along with the butt-raping.
So he tensed his asshole and clutched fiercely at the cock.
Larson gasped. Heath relaxed the pressure just enough for him to sigh. Then he really applied the full force of his grip, and let the man shove his prick full depth up into his back before he tightened again.
“It — it’s like I fucked into a surgeon’s glove filled with boiling hot lava,” the man yelled. “I can’t stand this much longer. And shit, he’s massaging the whole length of my cock. He’s gonna milk me of my come any second now.”
Heath did his best to do exactly that.
The thick head swelled up even bigger under his merciless work. He kept the tortured ring moving on the sides of the prick to make sure the man didn’t cool off. And when his entire guts clamped down around the length of it, he knew he had him trapped.
He spun his ass in a tight little circle, driving the sore rear end back into the man’s groin. The rough feel of the man’s hairy thighs against his spanked ass stimulated him in odd ways he didn’t understand. The paddling should have left him black and blue and tender. Instead he was oddly turned on by it. The lightest touch made his nerves sing.
He didn’t try to understand it. He just let the nice feelings work their sexual magic on his body.
“I don’t know how you do it, kid, but you’re making my old cock feel better than it has in years,” Larson said. “I love the way you can tense up all around my big prick.”
Heath didn’t answer. He closed his eyes and concentrated on giving the man all the pleasure he could endure. Even though it cost him a measure of pain to tighten his asshole around the overly large cock, he did it anyway. The sooner the man got his rocks off, the sooner he would go flaccid and fall out of his butt.
The rhythmic squeezing came in counter-tempo with the hard strokes. He loosened up enough for the man to ram all the way in, then gave him the full treatment. He felt the outlines of the prick against his own tender, well-fucked ring. He wiggled his ass in the man’s groin and almost giggled when the rough springy hair of his thighs scraped his spanked skin.
But most of all he used his inner muscles to make the man totally aware of the tight, hot passage he was fucking so avidly. He clamped down with everything he had, and then slowly released as the cock slid out of him.
Over and over the man rammed in full force, and over and over Heath gave him the treatment.
Then, as he rotated his ass around the impaling spike of that meaty cock, the man came.
Heath knew it instantly. The prick exploded and fountained its creamy load. The heat and the liquid gushy feeling in his guts was unmistakable. He could feel it land, pulse after pulse, and then start to trickle back out around the shaft.
He sighed and rammed his hips back into the man’s groin. He wanted him to get off in a big way. Then he wouldn’t bother him any more.
At least, that was the theory.
When the come had stopped spewing, the long hard length began to melt inside him. Heath tensed up some more and almost squirted it out of his body like a boy spitting a watermelon seed. The thick flow of sperm and semen felt wet and gooey inside his asshole, but he didn’t mind. It soothed the hurt left by the frantic fucking.
Heath couldn’t relax, not totally, with the wooden stocks around his neck and hands. But he felt better than he had since he walked into this room.
He’d been had. And now he’d learned how to give as good as he got.
Or so he thought.
