Bondage, nonconsensual, abduction, anal
Copyright © 2007 by John "Reddywhp" Reddy. Permission granted to archive if and only if no fee (including any form of "Adult Verification") is charged to read the file. If anyone pays a cent to anyone to read your site, you can't use this without the express permission of the author. This paragraph must be included as part of any archive.
Comments to skip@reddywhip.org
Around mid afternoon, my calf started to cramp up. Time to pull over. Up ahead a few more miles, I turned the car off into a scenic overlook. Sunny and warm, just shy of hot. Picked up a soda from the vending machine before I strolled off along a path.
A few families and other travelers had the same idea as me, but not many. The scenic overlook really was impressive. I leaned up against a tree several yard back from the cliff edge and closed my eyes.
"Hold on tight, son!" I cracked my lids just a bit and saw an adorable sight. A young blond boy no older than 7 or 8 clinging to his father's neck with his legs, sitting on the dad's shoulders. Dad himself was hot. A young dad at that, late 20's, blond hair with a hint of red. I closed my eyes and smiled as the pair walked close to the cliff's edge, but stopping a safe distance away.
I took a deep breath and my smile turned evil. Popping my eyes open, I lurched forward and planted one solid boot kick on the dad's ass, toppling father and son into the ravine, a hundred feet straight down. "Two blonds, 20 points! And another 10 points for a double play! Yes!" I shouted, reveling in the thrill. I stepped to the edge, and looked down at the broken bodies so far below and imagined my teeth bare, pointed.
"Daddy, look at that rock over there!" I opened my eyes for real this time, and watched the father and son walk over to some large boulder with a plaque. I went back to my car.
While relaying this story to the cute young twenties blond at the bar that night, my blood pounded in my ears. I stopped in a midwest town with one gay bar and a semblance of a night life. I had his rapt attention... or at least the reflection of my mirrored sunglasses did. It's amazing how such cliché looks still work on such country bumpkins. White t-shirt, blue denim, engineer boots, mirrored aviators. He never noticed the pinch of powder I dumped in his drink before I even started talking.
"Golly! Were you really gonna do it?" The kid was awe-struck.
"Of course not," and the unspoken there were witnesses. "But it was a nice image. It's power, kid. You know that? It's about who has it, who doesn't."
"I know what you mean, it's like on this show I watch, where the main..."
"Sure kid," I cut him off, "you don't want to really talk about television here, do you?" I had him staring at me, in what should've been my eyes. He shook his head.
Firmly, I grabbed him by the neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss. He balked at first but then melted as I forced his head towards mine, my tongue into his mouth. When he started to reach out to touch me, I pulled him away from my face, again by the neck, and almost threw him at the counter against the wall where we stood.
"That's what I'm talking about, kid. Power. Control. Me taking it, and you having it taken. And you liked it, didn't you."
"Sir, Yes, Sir!" Oh great, he's one of those bottoms.
"Do I look like I'm in the military kid?" I watched him. I knew the drugs in his drinks were finally kicking in. He should've recovered his balance faster when I pushed him. Not enough to knock him out, because I wanted him conscious, but enough to make him pliable.
"Err... uhh... no?" The kid stammered. He looked confused, like I'd broken his script. Well, I'd break it some more.
"You like me in control? Prove it." I picked my car remote out of my pocket, found the button marked 'trunk' and hit the button. The resultant chirp told me that it worked. "There's a car in the parking lot with the trunk open. You walk out there now, climb in, and pull the trunk shut. When I finish my next drink, I'm leaving. The only way you'll see anything of me," and at this, I grabbed his hand and pulled it to my throbbing dick in my jeans, "is if I open that trunk when I get where I'm going and find you in it."
I left him, his mouth open, swaying slightly, and walked over to the bar, smiling. "Barkeep, another pint!" As he brought me my beer, I set up my alibi in advance, "Damn, that kid can't decide if he's horny or bored." The barman nodded, "He's probably already drank too much. Besides, looks like he's leaving."
"Well, I'll just sit here and finish my beer then." I smiled and flirted with the barman, as he was one of the few people left in the bar, and I needed to be seen to not have left with the kid. The beer went fast, and then I left.
It was nearly an hour from the bar to the rented cabin I'd picked up for the night. Secluded, quiet. I pulled up the gravel path to the front door and got out and went around back and popped the trunk. In there, curled up in the very small trunk was my toy. Hadn't even asked his name. He was snoring. The drive must have been easy on him.
I picked him up, threw him over my shoulder, and walked into the cabin. With him over my shoulder, I felt a wetness through my t-shirt. He'd obviously pissed himself. Inside, I tossed him on the bed, which served to rouse him if he wasn't awake already.
The little sack of boy didn't struggle at all when I grabbed the duct tape off the nightstand and began wrapping it around his left arm, bent over so his hand was nearly touching his shoulder. I repeated the process with his right arm. Not that a struggle would've amounted to much: he was drugged and I had a good 70 pounds and 4 inches on him. A struggle would've been more fun though.
The boy's legs met a similar fate, taping first one, and then the other, so that his feet nearly touched his ass. Still dressed, though. I proceeded to wrap his arms and legs again with another couple of layers to be confident. This boy couldn't know what I had planned and so obviously didn't know the pain of pulling off duct tape from skin - while his legs were protected, his arms were bare... under the duct tape.
I stood up from the bed a moment, and looked him over. "You know what you're missing, boy?"
"Uhm, no," he groggily responded.
"A gag," at which, I wrapped the duct tape around his head once, twice, "to keep you quiet while I kill you." I wrapped the duct tape around a few more times before that statement must have sunk in. "I told you you needed a gag."
The muffled cries and screams got me hard as he tried drunkenly and drugged to crawl away. Bound as he was, though, it was like a turtle on its shell, and I told him as much.
"It's a night of clichés, so why not finish it off. Let's see... my attire, how easily you were drugged, and oh yes, 'Scream all you want, no one can hear you'."
I yanked at my fly, and the buttons came quickly undone, letting my dick loose as I pulled it out. "I'm betting you've got a nice ass down there. Maybe if your ass is good enough, I'll let you go. You'd like that, wouldn't you."
He stopped struggling for a minute and I reached under the bed, out of sight and pulled out my knife. Sharp. Very sharp. "You see this, boy? I don't like mutilating dicks. That's a masculine thing, and I don't wanna ruin yours if I don't have to, so do me a favor and stay put." With a practiced motion (and don't ask how I practiced it), I sliced down quickly, exposing his ass crack instantly without shedding a drop of blood.
The boy sighed with relief when I brought the knife back up not showing blood. Then he screamed into the gag when I threw the knife at the headboard, watching it sink into the wood inches above his head.
I was hard, horny, and this boy was now ready for me. Without ceremony, or lube for that matter, I lined up and rammed it in. I think the boy may have hurt some. He certainly whimpered. I couldn't tell if the first scream was from the fucking or if he was still screaming from the knife thudding into the headboard. His eyes were fixated on the still quivering blade while I was fucking him.
I felt myself getting close fairly quick; it'd been days since I'd come last, and well, I don't take too long to begin with. As I got closer, my fingers closed around the boy's throat. The closer I got, the tighter my grip got. There was no art to this. No target. I could feel his pulse and his breathing and how shallow each felt the closer I got.
Ripping noises told me his pants were ripping farther. The combination of sounds, the feel of his ass tightening as at the same time the life faded from his neck drove me over the edge as I shot deep into his ass. My back arched and I let go of his neck for just a minute, intending to return my grip and finish the job.
Looking down at the ripped jeans, in the light of the bedroom, through the sunglasses which I still wore despite the time of night, I saw his brown pubic hair and snarled. I backhanded him, shouting, "You lying little sod! Fucking little prick tease! You're supposed to be blond! You bought your hair color at the pharmacy!" The pain of the backhanding woke him up again. It even caused a little blood to drip down from his nose. Had I broken it? Did I care?
"You've ruined it. I can't now, you're brunette, not blond."
Leaving him bound and gagged, bleeding from his nose, dripping my come from his ass, I picked him up and carried him back out to the car and tossed him into the trunk again.
I drove around the small midwestern city to the far side, and then a little further. I pulled off the road into a small wooded and brush laden area. It was late. Or early, it depends on your perspective. Eiter way, there was no traffic. Picking the kid up out of the trunk one last time, I noted he wasn't dead. He certainly wasn't sleeping this time, but he didn't stir. I walked into the brush a way, carrying my bundle.
I found a depression in the ground, not deep, but enough to make movement difficult, and dumped the boy in there. He wasn't too far from the road. He'd have a fair chance to get himself free and then get home. I wouldn't be the one to kill him. Tempted, but no. He wasn't blond, I couldn't kill him.
I was going to leave but on a lark, I turned around and began unwrapping the boy's head. He screamed a bit as his hair was pulled out by the tape. He was conscious and starting to shrug off the drugs.
"That was amazing, man! Wow!" The rambling idiot boy continued on as I walked back to the car, drove back to the cabin. I packed up, took my linens off the bed and continued on my trip. 9 blond boys have died on those sheets. I take them everywhere. They're special.
As the sun came up, I was already on the road. The company was expecting me to arrive at the west coast facility on Monday, and I couldn't be late.
No comments:
Post a Comment