Ken James Fiction
Saturday, July 22
When the door opened, Alex was sitting cross-legged on the mattress with his back against the brick wall, cushioned by the single pillow the young guy had given him, along with a thin blanket.
In the twenty-four hours since the old guy locked him in this cell and raped him, Alex had gone from frightened to numb. He guessed that was a good thing.
He'd spent most of the time thinking. That and sleeping fitfully, dreaming of a masked man, gunshots, and Manuel collapsing on the bed, limp as a rag doll, with big bloody holes in his chest. He woke up from his nightmares into a bigger nightmare, one that'd end on his knees with a gun pressed against the back of his head.
Mostly, he thought about escape. He was in a basement, with a concrete floor and walls. His captors had taken him through a big room with a wood floor, then down a long flight of wooden stairs and into this room. The building must be a warehouse, probably one of the old downtown ones built in the 1920s. The room holding his cell was long and narrow. A brick wall separated it from the rest of the basement.
The bars were half-inch tempered steel rods, welded to thick steel cross braces. They were set solidly in the concrete floor and attached just as securely to a heavy wood overhead beam. The cell had an electronic lock with a keypad. So did the thick storeroom door. Even if he overpowered his guard, there was no way out of this room.
It was the old guy. That's what Alex had expected when he'd click from the outside door. They'd taken his watch and phone, but it seemed too early for the young guy to be bringing supper. He was disappointed, and scared. It was too soon for the old guy to kill him, but there were a lot of other things he could do.
The guy was wearing a cop equipment belt, with a black and yellow Taser in the holster. A black ski mask hid his face. His eyes were hard. "Get up."
Alex rose to his feet. "What now?" The man handed him a set of handcuffs. Alex cuffed himself like yesterday. "Time for my daily rape?"
"Shut the fuck up." The guy let himself into the cell and locked the bars behind him. Yesterday, he'd been in a hurry. Today, he took his time, running his hands over Alex's blue-jean-clad buttocks and groping his growing crotch bulge.
The man unfastened Alex's pants and pulled them down around his ankles, followed by his briefs, leaving him feeling horribly exposed and vulnerable, as well as embarrassed and ashamed by his rock-hard cock.
"Fag." The man's hand closed around Alex's stiff pole. "I knew you'd like this." He stroked Alex's hard-on roughly, then picked up the tube of KY.
Alex closed his eyes and took deep breaths, trying to relax. This shouldn't hurt. The guy wasn't as big as Miguel, and it felt good when Miguel got rough. But this guy wasn't Miguel. He'd killed Miguel without hesitating and he was going to kill Alex just as casually.
The man's cock-head pressed into Alex's asshole, stretching it open. Alex screamed and pulled away. "No! Please stop!" It hurt, but not as much as he'd expected. After a few seconds of painful tearing pressure, the big rod slid up Alex's ass, smooth and swift as a knife thrust to the belly.
"Hot tight faggot ass," the man whispered. "Got a real man's cock for you." He pulled completely out, then drove back in. Alex screamed again, more from surprise than pain this time.
Alex sobbed and begged as the man pounded his ass. It didn't hurt any more. Horrifyingly, it felt good. Alex was afraid he was going to come, even without touching his stiff pole. He was glad the guy couldn't see his face.
"Fucking fag bitch!" He slammed Alex, shooting pulse after hard hot pulse of cum up his ass.
He finally finished and pulled his dick out of Alex's butt. "You liked that. Didn't you, fag?"
Alex stayed silent, filled with anger and loathing. "Answer me, dammit!" The man grabbed Alex's shoulders and pushed his face into the bars. "Admit you liked it."
"Yeah!" Alex gasped. "Loved it. Best ever."
"Don't forget it," the man growled. "Not if you want to see your son of a bitch dad again." He got dressed and let himself out of the cell. "Next time, you're going to tell me how much you love it." He locked eyes with Alex. "Clear?"
"Oh yeah." Alex held his gaze. "Perfectly."
The old guy left. Alex tried to watch him punch the door combination, but he hid the keypad with his body.
After the door closed, Alex sank to his knees on the mattress, crying in rage and frustration.
Vince was waiting outside the door, wearing his black ski mask and carrying a fast food bag. "What's going on, Dad?"
"Nothing." Bob took his ski mask off. "Just teaching the kid some manners."
Vince's eyes narrowed and his lips tightened. "Like yesterday?"
"He's queer. He likes it."
Vince shook his head. "Alex isn't his father. He never hurt you—"
"Us. Raymond King cost the family . . ." Bob stopped and took a deep breath. "Damn near everything—"
"Okay, Mr. King hurt us. All of us. But, he didn't give Mom cancer. And I didn't want to go to that fancy school back east, anyway. UT is fine." Vince put his hand on Bob's shoulder. "Look. This isn't going to fix anything. The money won't bring Mom back, or anything else."
Bob shrugged Vince's hand off. "It's too late now. We're committed."
"He doesn't know who we are. We can let him go. Shut this down before we get in more trouble."
"No." Bob shook his head slowly. "This'll work. We'll get the money. Nobody else will get hurt."
"Nobody was supposed to get hurt," Vince said. "But Alex's boyfriend is dead."
"I wasn't expecting the Mexican. If he hadn't pulled that gun—" Bob stopped at Vince's expression.
"Alex said his friend didn't have a gun."
"He's lying. Trying to drive a wedge . . ." Bob looked at Vince sharply. "Don't get too friendly with the kid."
"Why? Because he won't be around long?"
"We get the ransom, the kid goes home. Everyone lives happily ever after."
"You're going to kill him, aren't you? The ski masks are just stringing him . . . and me . . . along."
"Of course not. It'd be stupid to kill him if we didn't have to."
"We?" Vince took a step closer.
"Just relax." Bob put his hand on the Taser's butt. "Nobody's getting killed."
"What about the boyfriend?"
"Well, nobody else, anyway." Bob started to walk away, but turned at the foot of the stairs and looked back at Vince. "Just do your job. Everything will be fine."
* * * *
Vince waited until Bob was gone, then punched the combination on the keypad and stepped into the secure storage room.
"Good to see you." Alex was standing up, with his cuffed hands sticking through the bars and his pants pulled down, exposing his big balls and half-hard cock. "Too bad you didn't get here sooner."
"I'm sorry about that." Vince stared at Alex's crotch for a few seconds before forcing his gaze up to the other man's face.
"It doesn't matter." Alex smiled bitterly. "You couldn't have stopped him." He held his cuffed hands out. "Would you mind?"
"Uh . . . Sure." He unlocked the cuffs.
"That's better." Alex wrapped his hands around the bars and stood still, looking into Vince's eyes. He was slim and muscular, with a long thick cock.
"I took 'Sexual Misconduct' classes at UT," Alex said. "Part of the Business program. And I had the 'Rape Awareness' class everyone has to take."
Vince didn't know what to say, so he kept silent. Bob didn't want him talking to Alex, anyway. The less he knew about them, the better off they were.
"There was something I had trouble believing." Alex's eyes darted down to the growing bulge in Vince's crotch. "Women having orgasms while being raped." It looked like his cock was growing bigger. "Makes them feel guilty, like they really did want it . . . Well, now I understand. When your Dad—"
"It's obvious." He studied Vince's face. "Don't worry. I won't let him know I've figured it out."
"Uh . . . All right." Once again, Vince knew with sickening certainty that everything was spinning out of control.
"Anyway, it's confession time." Alex dropped a hand to his crotch and stroked his cock briefly, then moved his hand back to the bars. "I almost came while your dad was fucking my ass." He flattened his body against the bars, pushing his balls and stiffening cock at Vince. "I hated what he was doing, but the stimulation—"
"Stop it." Vince thrust the fast food bag at Alex. "Just take this."
Alex ignored the food. "Don't be cruel. You're the only human I get to talk to."
"Well, I'm not supposed—"
"To get to know your victim?" Alex paused. "Your dad's one of the people my father screwed over."
"Better you don't think about that."
Alex shrugged. "It doesn't matter. I won't be telling anyone." He waited for Vince to say something, then continued. "My father screwed a lot of people. Your dad is just another face in the crowd."
Vince tried to stop staring at Alex's stiffening cock. He was getting hard himself. "Quit that! Put your pants on."
"You don't understand what your dad did to me." Alex reached through the bars and wrapped a hand around his protruding pole. "It doesn't matter how I felt about it. My body still wants . . ." He stroked his rod slowly, rubbing his thumb and index finger over his cock-head.
"Yeah. Okay." Vince set the food bag on the floor inside the bars and stepped back. "I'll just leave you alone—"
"No. Please stay."
"Well, all right. It's just . . . I've never . . . I'm not gay or anything—"
"Please." Alex moved his hand faster. "I need you."
"Guess it doesn't hurt to watch . . ." Vince's cock, trapped in his boxers, was painfully hard.
"Something else." Alex looked pointedly at Vince's bulging crotch. "Take it out."
"I told you. I'm not—"
"It doesn't matter. It won't hurt to let me see your hard cock."
Vince reached for this belt buckle. It wasn't like anyone outside this room would ever know . . . He unfastened his pants and let them fall around his ankles.
Alex grinned at the immense tent in Vince's boxers. "Nice pole."
Vince blushed. "Glad you like it." He pushed the boxers down, letting his stiff rod spring up.
"Man! You've got a big cock," Alex said. "Bigger than your dad's, I think."
"Don't talk like that."
"Sorry." Alex didn't sound sorry. "You're just sexy. And nice." He stroked silently for a few seconds. "Have to have it up my ass to be sure."
Vince's hard pole twitched. "No . . ."
"It wouldn't be like your dad. I want you to fuck me."
The thought was too disturbing. "I told you. No."
"It's just sex. It won't make you queer." Alex paused. "Does your girlfriend—"
"I don't have a girlfriend right now. My old one . . . That's private."
"In other words, she wouldn't. Don't you wonder what fucking an ass is like?"
"Stop it. I shouldn't even be standing here with my dick out."
"But you are."
"For you." Granting the dying man's last request—Where had that come from? Vince tried to put the thought out of his mind. Everything was going to be fine. Just fine.
"Just for me?" Alex pointed at Vince's stiff cock. A big drop of precum had gathered at its tip. "You've sure got a big hard-on."
"Uh . . ." This was the first time Vince had let another man see him with an erection. He wasn't gay. He shouldn't be excited. But he was.
"At least, jack off with me. We don't have to touch each other."
Vince's girlfriend had moved to Abilene at the end of the school year in May. He hadn't even masturbated in the weeks since Bob decided to proceed with the kidnapping. Now, staring at Alex's hand slowly sliding up and down his rigid shaft, he was horny beyond belief.
"Guess it won't hurt." Vince gripped his pole and ran his index finger over his cock-head, smearing the precum leaking from its tip.
Alex was grinning. "I won't tell." He held his cock lightly between his thumb and fourth finger and stroked its head with his middle and index fingers.
Vince copied Alex—holding his stiff prick and teasing his precum-leaking cock-head. "Feels good . . ."
He didn't realize he'd spoken aloud until Alex answered. "Yeah. You're a sexy guy."
"So are you." Vince still couldn't quite believe he was masturbating with another man. It felt great! He and Alex closed their hands around their thick hard shafts and stroked their rods, occasionally rubbing their thumbs and index fingers over their cock-heads.
"Oh man!" Vince jacked off roughly while watching Alex's flying fist. He was really close.
"Shoot on me," Alex said.
"Okay." Vince stepped up to the bars and sprayed cum on Alex's cock and balls. There was a lot of it.
"Fuck yeah!" Alex gasped. Cum fountained from his stiff cock, splashing Vince's belly and crotch. His load was as big as Vince's.
They stood still, grinning at each other. "That was great," Vince said.
"Sure was. You're a stud," Alex answered. "But I want more then a jerk-off session." He gathered the cum on his genitals in the palm of his hand, lifted it to his mouth, and licked it.
"Uh . . . We'll see." Vince hastily pulled his boxers up to cover his still-hard dick. "Look . . . I gotta go." He readjusted his pants and fled.
Vince stopped in the bathroom beside the warehouse's office to clean up. His tee-shirt and underwear were sticky with Alex's cum. He caught some on his finger and then sucked his finger, slowly moving it in and out of his compressed lips like a short skinny cock. The cum didn't have much of a taste, just a creamy texture.
He wondered what Alex's stiff pole would be like—throbbing and gushing cum. He pushed the thought away, moistened a paper towel, and wiped his clothes, then locked up and left.
Bob was gone when Vince reached their two-bedroom apartment in the Riverside student ghetto. Their house was in West Lake Hills, but they were renting the apartment to be near the warehouse. Bob managed their bar on Sixth Street. He'd managed to hold onto that when the construction business was wiped out.
Vince was glad. He sure wasn't in a mood for talking.
He didn't have a shift at the burger joint tonight, which left him way too much time to think. There was nothing good on basic cable, so he turned his school laptop on and tried to surf the net. He couldn't concentrate on that, either.
The girls on the free porn sites didn't do anything for him. He kept thinking about Alex's handsome face, muscular body, and big hard cock. Finally, he gave up and switched to the gay section. He chose a video titled "Gay teen gets his tight hole drilled." It was two college-looking guys, energetically fucking and sucking. Vince jacked his cock roughly while fantasizing about fucking Alex. He came along with the men on the screen.
The orgasm didn't relieve his tension. He stole a couple of Bob's Valiums and washed them down with a beer and a shot of whisky. That made him drowsy and he went to bed for a night of fitful dreams about sex and death.