CHAPTER 3
Heath raced home on feet that seemed tireless. He came into the house panting, avoided his parents, and went directly to his brother’s room. Somehow it seemed to him that his parents wouldn’t understand the need for secrecy in this. They’d call the police, and who knew what horrible things would happen.
He didn’t doubt for an instant that Mr. Elliot would frame all of them with the bags of dope in his desk. The man’s evilness exuded through the school like a malignant cancer. The police weren’t the way to handle him. He hoped Mark would have a better idea.
“Hi, little bro,” Mark said, looking up from a book.
Mark pushed an unruly shock of red hair back and peered at him with iron-gray eyes. Mark was seventeen and already filled out his shirts across the shoulders, and there was a scab on his knuckles from the last time somebody had said something about his brother.
“God, Mark, I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve got one hell of a big problem.”
Mark’s eyes widened slightly. Hearing his brother swear like that proved the problem was of major size. He couldn’t remember ever hearing Heath say anything more potent than “darn” before.
“Go slow and let me have all of it, bro.”
Heath tried to keep calm while he told him. He told him about the office, and the ruler, and the hands tied behind the back. He told him about Stu on the desk and Mr. Elliot behind him. Then he told him how the same thing had happened to Len when Len tried to blackmail the principal. But the words came out so jumbled that he wasn’t sure he’d said any of it right.
Mark got the story anyway. He sat there thinking about it.
“This is one hell of a fine mess,” he agreed finally. “And I see why you didn’t want to tell the folks. All they could think of doing would be to call in the cops. And even if old Stone Face didn’t use the heroin like he said he would, how do we square Len’s attempted blackmail? That perverted bastard is dealing from the bottom of the deck and we’ve got to play along.”
“Mark,” Heath said excitedly, “you’ve got to help him.”
“Huh? Who?”
“Len! He’s still there! He was still fucking him when I left to come find you. He said he was going to fuck him all night long!”
The words stunned the seventeen-year-old boy. He sat for a moment trying to figure out where he’d gone wrong. When his brother had laid the story on him, he’d thought this was something that was over. He hadn’t realized Mr. Elliot was still merrily fucking away at the captive boy in his office.
That changed things drastically.
“Okay, bro, we go see Mr. Elliot. Maybe we can declare a truce or something. Anything to get Len away from him.”
He shuddered a little at the thought of facing that madman. If the man was bold enough to fuck boys in his own office at school, he was probably secure enough to feel he could get away with anything. But Mark had to make the effort — for his brother, and for Len’s sake.
Mark had to adjust his cock before he stood up. As horrified as he’d been at the story, it had excited him a little. Even though Mark dated girls, his little brother’s best friend’s swagger and good looks hadn’t been lost on him. He’d even jerked off to thoughts of the popular younger blond boy a few times. He’d felt guilty the first time, but realizing nobody else knew, he hadn’t felt guilty about it since. The thought of bending Len over a chair and fucking him made his prick tingle and surge with desire. Hell, just looking at his own cute little brother was making him horny.
He’d been striking out again and again lately, and he was so goddamned horny now that he would fuck a knothole and think it was good.
“Uh, okay — knight in shining armor to the rescue. But come with me, huh? You know. To take care of Len and all.”
He didn’t want to admit he feared Mr. Elliot. Besides, what could the man do to him? He didn’t go to that school anymore. But the terror remained, even though Mark tried to convince himself it would’ve been all right if he went alone.
* * *
They went back to the school. The halls were long and empty and the light coming through the windows had gone orange.
“They’re gone!” Heath exclaimed. “I left them in the office and now they’re gone! Where could they have disappeared to?”
Mark walked over to the chair and found the strands of tape on the legs. He pulled them off and looked at them dumbly. The back of the chair had a stain on it, recent and sweaty, which showed a body had been draped over it just exactly the way his brother’d said. There was no doubt in his mind that Heath had seen what he’d seen. He wasn’t making it up.
“The school’s pretty deserted right now. They might be any —“
“What the hell are you kids doing here?” came a cold voice.
They spun, guiltily, and saw Mr. Larson, the shop teacher, standing in the doorway.
“I… we were looking for Mr. Elliot. We wanted to talk with him. Personal business,” said Mark.
“Humph. Well, let’s look for him, then. I saw him not too long ago. Why don’t you check down that way while the kid stays here in case he comes back. I’ll check down the other wing and we can meet back here in a few minutes.”
“Well, okay,” said Mark, reluctantly.
He didn’t want to leave Heath here alone, but as long as he was alone it would be all right. What did they really have to fear now, anyway, with the shop teacher here? Mr. Elliot wouldn’t dare try anything with an adult witness.
“Go on, Mark,” Heath urged. “It’ll be okay. And I want to get this over with as soon as possible.”
He watched his brother disappear down one hall and the shop instructor go in the other direction.
In less than a minute, Mr. Larson came back in and shut the office door.
Suddenly scared, Heath looked up and said, “Did you find him?”
“Hell, kid, I didn’t have to look. Jim’s down in the shop with that other dumb punk he’s been fucking.”
Heath’s entire body went numb. Mr. Larson was in this with the principal. He should’ve realized it from the start, but the confusion he’d felt at seeing his friend raped like that had made him too trusting.
Before he could open his mouth to scream for his brother, a thick, calloused hand clamped firmly down on his mouth.
“Just keep quiet, kid, and you won’t get hurt. We’re going down to see what old Jim has in store for you. He’s got one whale of a fine imagination for using boys like you.”
No matter how Heath struggled, he couldn’t free himself from the strong grasp. Mr. Larson propelled him down the hallway and into the third door on the right.
The smell of sawdust and fright reached his nostrils.
Amid all the heavy shop equipment was something he’d never seen before in this classroom. A set of crude wooden stocks held Len motionless. The boy had been stripped completely naked, his head and wrists imprisoned in one stock while his legs were held widely spread by a three-foot two-by-four. In his mouth was a small rubber ball held in place by a piece of string.
The frightened eyes staring at him told part of the story. The ugly red lash marks across his firm, youthful body told the rest.
Mr. Elliot had been whipping him with a yard-long piece of rough hemp rope. And from the white goo oozing down the insides of his wide-spread legs, he must have fucked him repeatedly since Heath fled, leaving him alone in the office.
Len’s ass was a mess of red stripes. His cock hung down between his spread legs, red and heavy and shining, and it had plainly been used hard and recently.
Heath didn’t have to be a genius to know what was in store for him. There was already another set of stocks gaping wide open.
He began to fight furiously. Managing to bite down hard on Mr. Larson’s hand let him scream, but it did no good. He could tell by the thick soundproofing in the ceiling and on the walls that this room was designed to be as quiet as possible.
“Damned punk,” snarled Mr. Larson, pulling his injured hand away from Heath’s mouth. “I’m gonna enjoy using you.”
The words shocked Heath more than anything else. Use him. The man didn’t consider him anything more than a receptacle for his prick. He was a hole to the man and nothing else. Not even human. Zero. Zip. Something to be used and then discarded.
Mr. Elliot spun around and flung him into the open stocks.
When Heath heard the wooden click followed by a metallic snap, he knew he was helpless. His hands were imprisoned about a foot away from each ear. There was no way he could possibly open the stocks now.
“I love peeling the clothes off these punks,” Mr. Elliot said. “And I’ve been getting hornier and hornier flogging the other one. His hole’s actually gone a little loose since we’ve fucked him so many times.”
“Yeah,” said Mr. Larson, leering at Len, “he was good when we started, but after the fourth or fifth time it wasn’t as good. Think this one’ll last longer?”
Heath shivered under the malevolent gaze. The man’s eyes were snake-like. Yellow and round and totally lacking in any human kindness.
He tried to escape when Mr. Elliot began pulling his shirt. He didn’t want to end up the way Len had.
Rape fantasies are shared by everybody and are fascinating as long as they stay fantasies. But this was turning into reality. As much as his body yearned for the feel of a man’s prick violating him, he didn’t want it. Emotionally he wasn’t able to handle it. He fought, but it did no good. Mr. Elliot was too strong for him, and imprisoned in the stocks as he was, he couldn’t hope to use his hands to claw the man’s eyes.
Elliot stripped off the shirt and left him bare to the waist.
“Goddamn,” he said. “Fucking him is going to be a lot of fun.”
He reached out and flicked the boy’s left nipple. Heath jumped as if he’d been touched with an electric wire. The way his nipple sprang up hard made him feel embarrassed. He wasn’t turned on by the crude handling — it was the fear that made his chest fill with excited blood.
“He likes that,” Larson said. “Look at his face, Jim. He likes it when I do this.”
He reached over and twisted the right nipple between thumb and finger, hard. Heath groaned and struggled to escape the sweet torture. He couldn’t. The stocks held him too firmly.
“Please — why are you doing this to me!” he cried.
“Hell, you tell us, kid. I think you like it. Tell me you like it!”
He twisted both nipples at once with a furious jerk. Heath was certain the man was going to yank them off. He could only answer, “Yes — yes, I love it! Now leave me alone!”
“Shit, baby, we’re just starting.”
He went back to the nipples while the principal stripped off the boy’s shorts and threw them aside.
Heath’s briefs were damp in the front from all the activity. Even Heath couldn’t tell if it was from sweat or from his own cock leaking.
This excited him in a perverted way. He didn’t want to be raped. Thinking about it might excite him, but the actual rape was terrifying. Still, he couldn’t deny the way his cock throbbed and hungered. The more he saw, the more he longed to have a thick cock shoved deep into his fuck hole.
“Can’t get the friggin’ things off,” muttered Mr. Elliot. “Where’s that knife?”
Heath felt cold metal glide along the outside of his leg. He tried to avoid it but couldn’t. It cut hard into the cotton of the briefs, and then he felt the cold air surging across his overheated crotch. The briefs had been cut off entirely. He was only glad the man hadn’t used the knife on his skin.
He could look down the length of his own body now and see himself. And so could they.
The red hair at his crotch was just coming in. His cock stood up out of it, thick and blunt and red, the head of it shiny and already slick at the tip. His balls hung down behind it, tight and high, pulled up from the cold air and the fear. And he was hard. That was the thing. He was tied in a set of stocks in a wood shop with his clothes cut off and he was as hard as he’d ever been in his life.
“Now that’s a nice piece of ass,” Mr. Elliot said.
Still, Heath’s position didn’t appear too hopeful. The shop instructor went on manhandling his body until he wanted to break down and cry. The feel of a man’s hands on him was nice, but this was more than a simple fondling. He knew he was entirely under the man’s control. He could do anything at all to him and Heath couldn’t hope to stop him.
“I think the kid’s beginning to shake a bit, Jim. What are you gonna do to him?”
The harsh voice seemed to ask the question in spite of knowing what the answer would be — but he wanted to make Heath fully aware of how hopeless his situation was.
“I found me one hell of a fine piece of ass. Lookit this.” Elliot’s hand stroked the boy’s ass and then went around to close on his cock, and Heath’s whole body jerked. “And look at that. Already leaking. Do you suppose he’s got a letch for his principal?”
Heath moaned softly as the agile fingers began to explore him. The hand moved and closed around the whole length of his cock and squeezed. He let out a tiny yelp like a dog whose tail had been stepped on.
Then a finger went back, between his cheeks, and probed.
When the fingertip found the tight ring and pushed, Heath thought he would pass out.
“I don’t believe this,” Elliot said slowly. “The little whore’s got the tightest asshole I’ve ever seen.”
“An endangered species,” agreed Mr. Larson, who still kept one hand moving across the boy’s body. He seemed reluctant to give up the handhold he used to keep control of him.
“I guess it’s my duty as principal,” said Mr. Elliot, “to instruct this kid in sex. Sex education has always been one of my big projects in this school, you know.”
“Christ, how could I not know?” said Mr. Larson. “You’re gonna wear that pecker of yours out in all this hot ass one of these days. Why not let me have him, by way of educating him?”
“No,” the principal said, harsh, final, firm. “He’s all mine. Aren’t you, kid?”
He pressed his face close to Heath’s, and Heath had to hold back the urge to puke. The man reached up and pulled his face around so he could kiss him on the mouth. Heath kept his mouth resolutely shut. He wasn’t going to kiss him. No way.
But he did. The man’s tongue drove in between Heath’s lips like a battering ram.
Heath kept his teeth clenched. But when the finger that was already up inside his butt gave a twist and pushed deeper, he opened his mouth to gasp — and that was all the opening the man needed to shove his tongue in cock-hard.
There, he played with Heath’s tongue.
Heath could almost forget he was in crude wooden stocks and about to be fucked. If he pretended this wasn’t the principal but somebody he’d chosen, it wasn’t too bad at all.
He gasped, and then began to move his tongue against the man’s in a rough, pink caress. Their saliva intermixed and he felt his breath coming faster.
The finger inside him began to work in and out, slow, twisting, opening him up. And the hand that had been on his cock kept working it, pulling the pre-cum down the length of it and back up, easy, like the man had all night.
Then came the harsh voice. “Enough of this kid stuff. I’m hard. I’m ready to fuck him.”
Heath opened his eyes and stared directly into the principal’s face. He found no tenderness in his eyes. Only lust. And he knew the man was going to take what he wouldn’t freely give him.
“You asshole!” he raged. “I hate you!”
“Didn’t seem that way a second ago. You were coming on pretty strong.” Elliot pulled his fingers out. “See how these prick teasers are, Mike? One second they’re melting all over you begging for your prick, and the next they clench up and don’t want a thing to do with you.”
“Fucker!”
“Yeah. That’s exactly what I am. And I’m gonna open that untouched hole of yours, kid. Spread those legs of yours so I can get my cock into you.”
“Go to hell!” Heath flared, kicking out in a vain attempt to plant a foot in the man’s groin.
Elliot just laughed and trapped the leg easily and held it under his right arm. This forced Heath’s butt-cheeks wide open, with the other leg still pinned in the stocks, and the position pulled at him in a way that made his hole feel like it was already open and waiting.
He closed his eyes and tried to ignore the man. It didn’t work.
He felt the blunted head of the man’s prick bounce against his hole and go skittering wetly up the length of his crack. He’d missed. But he was persistent. The prick returned, found the ring, and this time forced its way against the tightly clenched muscle. Heath groaned as the head of it pushed in past the rim.
Before that morning, he didn’t even know guys did things like this. And now these two men would take turns with him until he was a torn and bloody mess. And then they’d go back to Len and do it to him again. No matter which way he turned, he couldn’t win.
“God, I can feel the heat boiling out of him. And tiiiight — man, you can’t believe how fucking tight he is.”
“Hell, only the tip of your prick is in him. Go on and fuck him good. Show him what a real stud you are, Jim.”
The principal didn’t have to be urged twice.
He gathered a mouthful of spit, let it fall into his hand, and slicked it down the rest of his shaft. Then he planted both hands on the boy’s hips and pushed.
His prick moved with all the speed of a glacier, but it moved with all the power of one too.
Heath yelled as the thing slowly filled him. It didn’t stop. It kept coming, inch after inch of hot blunt meat, spreading him from the inside. The tight muscle stretched under the prodigious pressure.
Heath thought he might pass out from the pain ripping its way into his guts, but he couldn’t really tell whether it was physical or mental anguish that hurt him most. The pain he could tolerate. It hurt like hell, sure, but it wasn’t any worse than the time he’d broken his arm. The tautness inside him came from a sexual tension as much as from the stretching.
The man’s prick didn’t stop. It came right on up into him.
Heath cried and thrashed around, and that only made it worse. The pain mounted as he tried to escape. When he didn’t think he could take any more, he blacked out for a second.
The faint didn’t last long. When his consciousness came back, the cock was still boring into him, still working into his tight ass.
The pain was bad. The mental pain was worse.
He felt guilty. He might have avoided this somehow, though he couldn’t say how. The man’s insistence was too much for him. He knew what he wanted and came after it and got it. And still Heath felt guilty.
As much as anything else, he wanted that thick prick driving hard into him, fucking him, making him into a man at long last. He couldn’t admit it out loud. Not even to himself could he fully confess such a dirty desire. But his body started to cried out for cock and lots of it. At least, subconsciously he wanted it.
But the physical reality of that prick driving into his untouched hole was almost more than he could handle. He wanted to cry out, to protest, to do something. The stocks on his hands and neck prevented any real action. Besides, how could a kid possibly fight off two determined grown men who wanted to fuck him?
“Love this,” Mr. Elliot said. “God, do I love the feel of a hole like this all around my cock.”
“You lucky bastard. I never got one that had never been had. Never!” exclaimed Mr. Larson. “I hope you enjoy it, you lowlife scumbag.”
“I’ll enjoy the fucking hell out of him,” Elliot promised.
Then he tensed a little more, and Heath almost lost his mind.
The pressure inside him was at the breaking point. He didn’t know how he could possibly handle any more. The way that blunt cock pressed so firmly into the last of the tightness drove him crazy.
Then his ass-ring gave, all at once, and the man’s prick surged balls-deep into him.
Heath blacked out again.
When he came to, the man was avidly fucking him.
Heath just knew there was blood. But that wasn’t what frightened him most. He was actually enjoying this.
He couldn’t possibly admit that to anyone.
His hole was being ravaged by the insane principal, and his own cock was drooling down onto onto the floor, without being touched at all.
“Shit, never felt a kid this tight around my old pecker before,” the man said. “Love it. God Almighty, how I love this. I could die right now and go happy, fucking a kid with a hole this tight. And when he learns to use that ring of his, he’s gonna be the best goddamned fuck in this whole fucking school.”
Heath’s panted as he tried to sort out all the new and wondrously different feelings rampaging through his body. The feel of the prick inside him answered basic needs he’d been repressing for so long. This was how he should have scratched the deep itch he’d felt for years. His own hand on his cock was nothing compared to having a man’s prick moving around inside him.
He tensed up as the man’s hand dragged across his torso. Elliot grunted with pleasure. Heath could feel the contours of the thing in him — where the broad arrowhead of it was, how the big vein along the top of it pulsed and throbbed with life, the way the whole heavy length of it bucked and jerked in him.
It made him feel more like a man than he’d ever felt in his life.
Heath liked it while he hated it, all at the same time. It was so confusing.
“Stop it,” he begged. “Don’t do this to me any more! Please! I can’t take it any longer!”
“Hell, baby, this is probably as long as you’ll ever take it!” the man leered. “I’m a good nine inches long, and there’s no stud in this whole fucking school any longer than I am.”
Heath shut his eyes and abandoned his senses to him. No matter what he did now, it couldn’t be worse than what he’d already done. Somehow, some way, someday, he was going to get even with the bastard. And it wasn’t going to be pleasant when he did.
For now, all he could do was try to relax and enjoy the new feel of that cock driving back and forth in his well-oiled hole.
He tried to pretend.
In his head, the man could be one of the highschool football players he’d admired. It would have been different if it was one of them. But this man, no matter how many times he violated his body, would never touch his innermost core. Heath would hate this bastard with all his passion, just as he let his body take all the pleasure it could get from being fucked.
