THE STORY CONTINUES (the next 2445 word episode of an eight-part story)

 

Part Two

Tuesday was one of those typical early winter days in the Mid-west, sun obscured by a continuous cover of scudding clouds and bone-chilling winds sweeping unobstructed from the Canadian north: a restless limbo of weather which was uneasily echoed deep within the marrow of equally restless boys and men. When 8 p.m. finally arrived, the five young studs who gathered in the trainer's room were edgy with strange but suppressed desires.

Throughout the day, each had been pensively preoccupied with plans for the evening session; calculating, discarding, selecting. Now they were together and ready to choose the evening's victim. The preliminary stripping down and horsing around was marked with a boisterous excess of obscenities, warnings, outright threats, goosings and grabbings, all indications of acutely high energy levels.

Once nude, they positioned the marbles - only three white this time to the one red - as on the previous night, and carefully made their picks. Dicko watched hungrily as each sweaty palm opened, but in the light-skinned hand of the black Moses was a white marble. The red one lay in the brown, blunt-fingered hand of Manuel Alvarez. The order of torturers was quickly determined: Thaao, Moses, Johnny and, last, he who was most anxious for the metal-like taste of vengeance, Dicko.

Eagerly, Thaao moved in on the naked Chicano slave.

"OK, y' fuckin' spic, stand up on that rubbin' table!" he ordered. Manuel sullenly obeyed, noting with dismay that at this height his cock and balls were on an exact level with Thaao's mouth.

"Now put yer arms way up an' see if u' can reach them fuckin' pipes over yer spic head!" By stretching upward from the balls of his feet, Manuel found he was able to reach the two brass water conduits which ran parallel with each other about four feet apart just below ceiling level. Apprehensively, he held the uncomfortable position.

Taking two lengths of half-inch nylon straps, the taller Thaao mounted the table and securely anchored Manuel's wrists to the pipes. While doing so, it was inevitable that there two naked bodies were pressed tightly together, and Thaao was intensely aware of Manuel's matted chest hair prickling against his own relatively hairless torso, of their two uncircumcised cocks -Manuel's thick and stubby, his long and slender - responding to the intimate contact with partial arousal, of two sturdy thighs rubbing sensually against his own.

Hastily alighting from the table, he tore off four lengths of two-inch adhesive tape from a huge roll. The first of these he wound around his victim's ankles, the second around the hairy upper calves, the third just above the knees. The fourth fastened first in the back, just under the two firm buttocks, and then to the front, lifting Manuel's low-swinging balls to fasten it behind them, thus thrusting them out in an unnaturally predominant position. When Manuel glanced downward, those vulnerable genitals dominated his line of vision, so tightly stretched was his helpless body.

"Me, I choose ... the legs!" Thaao announced. "Start timing'!!

He selected a hard-rubber-headed reflex-testing hammer from the first aid supplies and violently kicked the table away from under the balls of Manuel's feet, bringing an involuntary gasp from his victim's throat as his entire weight was unexpectedly supported only by his widely spread wrists. Moses, Johnny and Dicko circled the naked body of their athlete colleague, fascinated with the way this suspension threw into high relief the various muscle groups of the strong young body, highlights and shadows accentuated by the glare of the fluorescent lights.

Edging the others aside roughly, Thaao carefully aimed the sharp-headed hammer. Then, suddenly, he landed a blow just a fraction of an inch below Manuel's right kneecap. The effect was devastating: the hanging body arched convulsively and a piercing shriek reverberated around the room, Another immediate strike, unerringly aimed at the same spot along the left patella, induced a similarly uncontrollable reaction.

For the next fifteen minutes Manuel experienced such agony as he had not believed possible for the human body, even his toughly-muscled one, to endure. Thaao brutally rapped a pattern of taps around the perimeters of those two kneecaps, switching from one to the other, and each blow was like a spike driven into a cluster of nerve ends. Manuel's screams dissolved into coarse whimpering, his sweat glistening torso twisting violently this way and that, his cock and balls flapping about wildly.

When, blessedly, "Time! " was finally called, Thaao got in a few gratuitous licks by removing the four lengths of adhesive tape as slowly as possible, taking off a maximum amount of body hair in the process. The table was returned beneath Manuel's feet. Thaao mounted it, and released his captive's wrists from the overhead pipes. Manuel collapsed into his arms, gripping his nude body tightly for several minutes while waiting for his trembling to quiet down. He then moved abruptly away under his own power.

Moses, whose turn was next, could scarcely wait for the "rest period" to pass before demanding that Manuel assume the same position on the table as had Thaao. In only a matter of seconds, the hapless victim found himself once again hanging from his spread, aching wrists. Moses placed a long, low bench in front of Manuel. and adroitly jumped onto it.

"The fits for me!" he gloated. "Start timin'."

He moved in against Manuel and ordered him to lock his legs around his own muscular chest, enjoying the feel of cock and balls just beneath his chin as he had Dicko fasten Manuel's ankles tightly around his back. Next he called for two clothespins from the janitor's closet, and Johnny was quick to oblige. Brushing the thick black hairs away from Manuel's right nipple, he viciously clamped one clothespin to that tender tuft of flesh. A low groan was heard from deep within Manuel's throat, and his cock jerked slightly against Moses' thick black neck.

The process was repeated on the left nipple, and then thetorturer fiendishly grabbed hold of each clothespin. A humourless smile played around his lips as he initiated a routine of simultaneously pulling and twisting them. Each new pressure added pain to the utterly helpless body of the victim, and his moaning provided a continuous obligato to the scene. He felt that his nipples were being relentlessly ripped from his chest. But he was also aware that his cock had become almost completely erect against Moses' broad black shoulder and, glancing down at the other young athletes, he saw that their cocks as well were nearly all erect. Later, he would wonder about this phenomenon.

He had been wrong, however, in thinking that there could be no greater pain, for Moses now demanded a safety pin from the trainer's first aid kit. Opening it and stretching it out straight, he pulled the right nipple taut with the clothespin, then began pushing the point of the safety pin in a circular pattern around the periphery of the aureola. Each pierce of the pin brought a scream from the victim, so effectively locked into position that he could in no way pull back to avoid the continuing torture, even when his tormentor switched and repeated the entire procedure on his left nipple.

Only the call of "Time! " prevented his lapsing into a state of complete hysteria.

Manuel needed every second of the extra long fifteen-minute respite in order to bring his mind and body back into some sort of equilibrium. He didn't see how Johnny Todd, who was up next, could think of anything to equal or even come close to what he had already experienced. Yet his heart beat faster when he caught the evil glint in the all-American boy's eyes, saw the evil beneath the fixed smirk on the innocently handsome face.

"OK, y' motherfuckin' brownie, now it's my turn! " Johnny suddenly shouted. "I wantcha t' kneel on this fuckin' bench with yer legs tight together, and stretch that fuckin' spic body forward on yer elbows with yer wrists crossed!"

Once he had taken this position, Manuel's body formed a kind of bridge, his ass high in the air. Johnny taped the thighs together, then fastened them to the bench itself. He repeated the fastenings just below the knees and at the ankles. Wrists were then tied tightly together and also taped to the bench, as were the fore-arms just below the elbows. Head hanging down, Manuel was staring at his own free-hanging genitals and was glad that those precious appendages, at least, were not in a vulnerable position.

"I surely do hope y' took a good shit today," he heard Johnny saying, "cuz what I'm gonna do is give that nice tight asshole of yours a good workout! "

Manuel panicked. He knew that he could in no way endure the humiliation of being raped, and was about to signal a withdrawal from all further activities. But then he realized that Johnny was moving away, going to a locker.

From his jeans in the locker Johnny took a dime, then got a bottle of Coke from the machine in the corner. He snapped off its cap and called for the timing to begin. Thaao and Dicko and Moses crowded close, sensing a truly unique experience ahead. Sure of the audience's total attention, Johnny caressed the naked butt in front of him with his left hand for a moment, then slipped it into the deep, hairy valley and found the tight anal opening with his middle finger.

Manuel squirmed uncomfortably at the penetration, trying to find words for his inevitable capitulation. Before he had a chance to shout it out, however, Johnny withdrew his finger. With his right thumb over the opening of the Coke bottle, he shook it vigorously for a moment or two, agitating the gaseous contents. Then, with an abruptly sudden move, he thrust the open end into the lips of the virginal anus.

The explosion of icy, prickling bubbles into this tender area caused Manuel to lunge forward and cry out, but Johnny was prepared for this and held the bottle firmly in place. Manuel felt that his whole lower intestinal tract was on fire, being eaten away, but his frantic movements only increased the awful hurt. He could not believe it when he noticed that he had developed the hugest hard-on of his entire life. It was as if his cock belonged to someone else.

Now thoroughly enjoying himself, Johnny applied an even greater pressure which thrust the ever-enlarging shape of the bottle deeper and deeper into the body of Manuel, now stretched out flat, belly pressed into the unyielding wood of the bench, chest resting on folded and secured arms. The feeling within him was that the bottle, relentlessly moving further and further into his colon, would penetrate through his stomach wall and impale him to the bench itself. Stinging bubbles seemed diffused throughout his entire system, and a sweetish flavour in his throat stifled his gurgled cries.

"Time! "

The bottle was slowly withdrawn and the bindings removed from the reddened, tender flesh. Manuel twisted into a sitting position, then stood up - gingerly. His rear end was too tender to accept the weight of his torso. Only his enormous erection, focus of every eye in the room, remained as evidence of his ordeal. That, and an unspoken rage of revenge to be directed, when his turn came, against one Johnny Todd.

Dicko, who would have his first opportunity as torturer during the next and final round, had been a highly intent observer during the evening. He matched Manuel's reactions with his own experiences of the previous night, remembering the lashing his butt had received from him, and gleefully formulated his plan. So, now that it was at last his turn, he was more than ready.

With great anticipation he, too, had Manuel kneel on the bench but then forced him onto his back, legs bent unnaturally under him. Several turns of two-inch adhesive tape over mid-thighs and under the bench effectively locked the legs into position. Another strip went tightly around his waist and the bench. After pulling Manuel's arms tautly above his head and fastening those to the bench as well, Dicko was ready.

With immense concentration he approached Manuel's immobilized, naked body.

"Me for the balls!" he announced.

As the timing began, he took a long half-inch strip of nylon webbing and made a noose at one end. Pushing the now-flaccid cock to one side, he picked up the Chicano's scrotum. He slipped the noose over the balls and anchored it as close to the body as it would go. Then he started winding it around the sac and moved downward, forcing the balls ever more tightly into the constricted, glistening area. Manuel's breathing became rasping and irregular.

When it seemed that the small portion of the sac left containing the balls would burst from the pressure exacted on it, Dicko's tied off the nylon webbing. Then he began massaging Manuel's cock into an erection, excruciatingly increasing the pressure on the balls. Maintaining the gentle massage on the thickly extended organ with one hand, he all of a sudden flicked one of the tightly imprisoned balls with the middle finger of his other hand.

Manuel let loose with by far the shrillest scream of the evening. That snap on his ball blazed a trail of sheer agony straight up his spinal cord to the base of his brain, exploding there in a shower of shattered nerve endings. Before he had time to take a breath there was a flick on the other ball, and the agony of the first was doubled. Tears ran from his eyes, and he now knew what his breaking point was.

Wave upon wave of pain coursed through the husky young body as Dicko rapidly flicked one ball and then the other, never ceasing his manipulation of the tumescent cock. Manuel was too exhausted from squirming and screaming to utter the words necessary to call a halt to the proceedings. It is quite possible that the shouted word "Time!", as it cut through his curtain of anguish, saved his sanity.

Manuel knew, as they were once again ending the session with a shower, that he had endured far worse torment than Dicko had the night before. And Moses and Thaao and Johnny, whose turns as victims were yet to come, also knew it. Now added to the original game was the element of revenge as those who had served as victim grew in number and, yes, in hate.

As a result, the showering was even more subdued than the night before.

 END OF PART TWO

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