They came for Tom after supper. The deadbolt clicked back and the steel door opened. Caleb and Donny were standing there, still dressed in the clothes they'd been wearing this afternoon.
"You!" Donny pointed at Tom. "Strip." He and Caleb watched as Tom removed his long-sleeved wool shirt, boots, socks, and jeans. He shivered as the cold concrete floor drained his body heat through the thin rug. Worse, he felt vulnerable . . . and helpless.
Donny and Caleb spent a long time looking Tom over, lingering on his crotch. Even soft, his dick was impressively large. "Nice . . . body," Donny said.
"Yep," Caleb agreed. "Big strong boy. Built to take a lot of punishment."
"What do you think of his dick?" Donny asked Caleb.
"It's alright. Wonder what it looks like hard . . ."
"Well, let's see." Donny looked back at Tom. "Get it hard."
"Yes, Sir." Tom stroked his soft pole, running his fingers over its head and up and down its shaft, quickly bringing it to full hardness. "How's this?" He was still frightened and humiliated, but his body was vibrating from the other men's radiated lust.
Tom stood with his feet wide apart and slowly rolled his hips, jacking his cock and squeezing his balls, occasionally pinching his swollen cock-head between his thumb and index finger, smearing the precum leaking from its tip.
"Stop!" Donny said.
"Yes, Sir." Tom dropped his hands to his sides and stood facing Donny and Caleb. His stiff oversized cock stayed hard, rising from his forest of dark blond pubic hair.
"What do you think?" Donny asked Caleb.
"Looks good," the man in camo answered.
"Yeah," Donny unzipped his blue jeans and took his cock and balls out, then fastened his fly button again, creating an improvised cock-and-ball ring. His hard-on was unusually long and thick, although not as big as Tom's stiff pole, with a bullet-shaped head.
"Caleb tells me you're a good cocksucker," Donny said. "Come prove it." He pushed his stiff rod through the bars, pointing it at Tom like a pistol.
"Yes, Sir." Tom sank to his knees on the hard concrete floor, barely padded by the thin rug, still cold and frightened but burning with the other men's reflected lust.
Tom wrapped his hand around the base of Donny's cock, then pushed his compressed lips over its head and upper shaft, taking them deep into his mouth. He bobbed over the man's rod while kneading his balls and occasionally slipping a finger between his legs to tease his taint.
"Damn! He is a good cocksucker!" Donny gripped the back of Tom's head and pulled his face up to the bars, then thrust his stiff cock down Tom's throat. "I'm gonna give him a real workout."
Tom's hard dick jerked as he sucked and jacked Donny's driving pole while squeezing his nuts, keeping him from getting too violent. He'd forgotten to be scared. He just wanted to make that big sliding cock throb and flood his mouth with hot tart cum. The man pounded his face frantically, getting closer and closer . . .
"Jesus!" Donny yanked his cock out of Tom's mouth. "Jesus . . . H. . . . Fuckin' . . . Christ!"
"Told ya he was good." Caleb had his cock and balls out now. His stiff rod was thin but unusually long, with a wide head that looked like an army helmet. Precum was leaking out of its tip and running down its shaft. "Even better than . . ." He jerked a thumb at Washington, who was standing a few feet away, watching the action with wide eyes and a big bulge in his pants.
"Like pappy always said . . ." Donny said in an exaggerated hillbilly accent. "If you wants you cock sucked right, get a fag to do it."
"Damn straight!" Caleb crooked a finger at Tom. "Come here! It's my turn."