How To Rape A Straight Guy (13 page)

After a couple minutes, he scrunched together an’ started tryin’ to sit up.  The van was jerkin’ an’ rollin’ a little an’ it screwed him up a little, but he finally got to where he was leanin’ against its side.  Then he sort of tried to look around under the blindfold.  I knew I was out of his line of sight, if he had any, but I was close enough in case he tried somethin’.

His legs were bent, an’ it struck me how good of a shape they did have.  Nice form.  Muscled.  Not too built up like mine were gettin’ to be.  Not too short or too long.  Good clean skin.  Nothin’ sharp or harsh to ‘em.  A real guy’s legs.  Perfect legs for this perfect towel.  An’ why the fuck was I noticin’ that?  Why the fuck was I even thinkin’ that?  Shit.

I made myself put down the towel an’ then I rubbed my eyes.  I kept my focus on Shayes as he worked at the straps ‘round his wrists.  I shook my head.  Fuckin’ cop’d used the same fuckin’ things so many times in the past an’ nobody’d gotten loose; why’d he think he could get out of ‘em?  It was almost funny to watch.

Pretty soon, we were gettin’ off at Highland.  He could feel us slowin’ down.  Feel us jumpin’ over that bumpy little bridge of an exit an’ swingin’ down to connect with the road just above the Bowl.  He got real still.  Too still.  I got ready an’, sure enough -- when we stopped at a light, he began poundin’ his back against the side of the van, screamin’ at the top of his lungs!

I was on him, in a flash!  I yanked him back onto the van’s floor, straddled his gut an’ rammed a forearm across his neck!  He shut up, real quick.

“Try that, again,” I whispered, “you’re dead.”

“Please, don’t do this,” he muttered from behind the gag.  “Just let me go.  You don’t have to do this.”

I just smiled.  That’s when I realized I could feel him breathin’ hard between my legs.  Feel him squirmin’ ‘cause his arms were pinned under him an’ his shoulders were strainin’ at the position.  I’d torn his shirt when I yanked him down.  Not much, just enough to show he had some full pecs an’ they had flat swirls of hair over ‘em, just like his legs an’ arms.  No way was I ever gonna think of Connie when I was doin’ this guy.  But I still started breathin’ hard.  An’ my dick still got goin’ good.

I don’t know why, but I shifted down to where I was restin’ on his hips.  I guess it was to take some pressure off his shoulders.  He squirmed an’ stretched as best he could an’ rose up to rest on his elbows.  The bottom of his shirt had ridden up, some, so I could tell he had decent abs, no six-pack but solid an’ covered with some hair.  An’ sittin’ on him like that, completely in control -- I wanted to touch him.

I slipped a hand up to his pecs.  Yeah, solid muscle.  He jerked but couldn’t do much more.  I pulled the tee shirt open some more where it was torn -- not too much; Wayne wanted to “undress” him on camera -- an’ saw one of his tits.  It was brown an’ soft an’ hair swirled around it.  I played with it, a little.  Shit, even when I closed my eyes, I could still feel the hair.  Be even more obvious when I sucked on it.  He really began to squirm, then.

“What -- what’s goin’ on?  What’re you doin’?”

“What the fuck you think, faggot?” I snarled.

Then I leaned back an’ let my hands go down his legs an’ drew ‘em back up, pullin’ one shorts’ leg up with it.  He tried to buck me off, but I smacked my legs against his sides, knockin’ the wind out of him.  He stayed still, tryin’ to catch his breath.  Then I shifted around to straddle his chest an’ looked down at his crotch.  An’ I unzipped his shorts an’ saw he’s wearin’ white Haynes or Jockeys or somethin’ generic, like that.  Nice an’ clean, too.

I could just hear Shayes whisperin’, “Please, please, you don’t want to do this.  I’m not that way.  Please.  I got a wife.  I got kids.  I -- I haven’t seen you.  Any of you.  Please, just let me go.  I -- I won’t report it.  Please.”

“Don’t worry,” I whispered, caressin’ his belly.  “We’re just gonna have some fun.”

Then I pulled his briefs up away from his dick, an’ saw he was small an’ clean an’ cut.  Just like he promised.

He tried to wiggle away, so I let his briefs snap back into position an’ shifted ‘round on him, again, to where I was lyin’ on top of him.  Man, my dick was poundin’ against my jeans, beggin’ to get out.  An’ he could feel it grindin’ against his own.  I held him tighter, like I was comfortin’ him.  I could feel how quick he was breathin’.  I could feel his heart poundin’.  I could smell some kind of stuff on him, like Brut or Old Spice mixed in with his own sweat -- the kind of sweat that still smells clean, still smells alive.  An’ I owned him, right then.  He was mine, pure an’ simple.  Completely mine.

“Oh, Jesus, Christ,” he muttered, “please -- please don’t hurt me.”

“We won’t,” I said.

Then Wayne turned onto his street an’ slowed down, even more, an’ turned down an alley.  He pulled up to his back gate an’ stopped.  The shed’s door was right beside it.  Lenny was there, waitin’.

I could still hear Shayes whisperin’, “Please, really, you don’t want to do this.  I’m not like that.  It won’t be any good.  Please, just let me go.  I -- I won’t do anything to you.  Please.”

Then Wayne yanked open the side door an’ it slid to a loud stop.  Shayes gulped an’ started heavin’.  Wayne noticed.

“Sit him up,” he said.  “Head between his legs.  We don’t want him puking into the gag; he might choke.”  I did what he said, then Wayne climbed in an’ put an arm on Shayes’ back an’ whispered, “Hold on.  Get back in control.  Breathe deep.  Don’t talk.  Don’t even try.  If you do, you’ll vomit.”

Shayes tried real hard to get back in control...but he wasn’t havin’ much luck.  So Wayne pulled out a bandana an’ wrapped it around Shayes’ neck, then he undid the gag.

“Coke,” was all Wayne said.  A second later, Lenny had a can of it an’ was offerin’ it to him.  Wayne took it, pulled Shayes back by the bandana an’ forced some of it down his throat.  The guy choked an’ coughed, but he stopped heavin’.  “Better?”

After a second, Shayes nodded.  Then Wayne coiled the bandana tighter an’ said, “Don’t even try to call for help.  Understand?”  Shayes nodded, again.

That little action made me positive Wayne was lyin’ ‘bout not doin’ this, before.  Maybe he hadn’t with a guy like Shayes, maybe it was just that college kid or with some punk he picked up in a bar or off Santa Monica or even paid to let him do it, but he’d done this, before.  I mean, I could palm all the other crap -- the careful plannin’, the wild imagination, the way he wanted the string him up -- all of it on just bein’ caught up in the idea of it.  Even after his story, I couldn’t have said for positive he was lyin’ to me.  But knowin’ how to keep this guy from lettin’ hurl an’ doin’ it without much of a thought -- he’s had practice.  What’s weird is, that calmed me down.  An’ it made me even more careful when I was around him.

He kept hold of the bandana as I picked Shayes up to carry him out.  The cop struggled a little -- not much -- but I still felt strong carryin’ him into the shed.  He’s not exactly a little guy, an’ holdin’ him like you do a bride -- I even felt...oh, I dunno, just plain powerful.  It was all good.  From the shape of his legs to how smooth an’ healthy his skin felt to even the hair on his calves ticklin’ the hair on my arm -- it was all just right.  An’ havin’ the side of his butt pressin’ just above my crotch, it got me close to shootin’ in my briefs.

Shit, y’know, I -- I could tell this was gonna be too fuckin’ good.  It was gonna be like that first kid an’ that guard at Mid-State, Carter.  An’ I -- I knew I shouldn’t be feelin’ like that.  I mean, I’m straight; I really am.  I love pussy an’ need the feel of a chick in my bed, at night.  An’ I knew, even then, I knew I was headin’ over the edge.  I knew I should’ve stopped myself, right then.  But I -- I -- I couldn’t; swear to God, I couldn’t.  It was like I was addicted to some kind of drug an’ all I could think about was my next fix.  Like some low-life junkie piece of shit an’ that ain’t me.  That ain’t me.  But even as I was thinkin’ all this, I was still carryin’ him into that shed.  An’ I -- I couldn’t stop.  ‘Cause deep down -- way deep where you never even think to go -- I needed to own him.  An’ I couldn’t do that till I owned him whole.

You couldn’t have convinced me of this at the time, but now I can see that I was completely, totally an’ absolutely out of control.  I was workin’ like off auto-pilot or like I was some fuckin’ puppet bein’ carried around by invisible strings attached to its own brain.  An’ that brain wasn’t at all interested in anything normal or human or acceptable, anymore.  It just wanted to be fed some ice cold revenge an’ it’d keep yankin’ at me till it got what it wanted.

An’ that made me one scary motherfucker.

Even to myself.

Chapter Six

This was the first time I’d been in Wayne’s shed.  Shit, it was the first time I was really in his back yard.  When he’d been talkin’ ‘bout makin’ the shed over, he only showed it to me through the slidin’ glass doors that lead to a two foot wide patio an’ two inch patch of grass between the condo an’ the fence.  I think it used to be a garage, since it was big enough for two small cars.  There were two windows an’ one door, all inside the fence.  The wall facin’ the alley was solid an’ covered with ivy, an’ it crouched in a corner of the yard as if it was leanin’ against the fence an’ just darin’ you to make it leave.  It looked nice an’ plain an’ simple, almost homey, not like a prison.  But hey, that’s what it was gonna be.

The gate swung to the right an’ the door was there on its left, already ajar.  Lenny kept the gate open as Wayne guided me in, usin’ the bandana to keep control of Shayes, then we slipped into the shed an’ Lenny closed the gate an’ joined us inside.

I dunno what I expected, exactly, when Wayne told me ‘bout what he was gonna do to the place -- but what I saw stopped me, cold.  First I saw the bed -- a big unfinished-wood four-poster jammed against a wall, its mattress covered with a ratty fitted sheet, nothing else.  Handcuffs were connected to each corner post an’ laid out nice an’ neat, waitin’ to be clamped onto Shayes’ wrists an’ ankles.  An’ two leather restraints were fastened to a thick dowel that ran between the head posts, to keep his hands above his head some of the time.  It made me stop an’ blink at how harsh it looked.

Then I noticed a heavy steel cable hangin’ in the middle of the room.  It had a ring on one end that wasn’t completely closed, an’ it slipped through a couple of hooks in the ceilin’ then connected to a sort of pulley bolted to the floor in a corner opposite the bed, so you could raise or lower how high it was.  Beside that was a solid wooden chair, an’ next to that was a four-foot tall metal sawhorse padded with leather.  An’ then coils of rope on the floor.  An’ then some rolled up foam rubber pallets.  All nice an’ neat.

The walls were covered with all kinds of misshapen bits of foam in all sorts of colors -- gray, yellow, pink, white, you name it -- even over the windows.  They covered the ceilin’, too.  Both Wayne’s an’ Lenny’s cameras were already set up on tripods -- one on a short platform, the other in a nearby corner -- an’ the lights were bright.  I think the only reason the place wasn’t like an oven was ‘cause an air conditioner fitted in the wall was goin’ full blast.

Now all of this was sort of expected -- I’d seen the bondage rags Wayne creamed over; seen his diagrams an’ sketches -- but that freak must’ve thought I was a complete an’ total blind idiot or somethin’.  ‘Cause I could tell the second I saw the set-up that none of it was new.  Not one fuckin’ thing in that room.  The bedposts were dull an’ worn where the handcuffs had rubbed against them.  The ring on the chain was scratched.  The metal post was dinged in a couple places.  The chrome on the legs of the sawhorse was scraped.  The wooden floor was scuffed from the chair bein’ dragged over it, an’ the chair’s stain an’ polish were faded an’ chipped.  They’d used this room before, an’ not just once or twice.

Suddenly I was feelin’ really -- weird.  Like I had tiny little sugar ants crawlin’ up an’ down my arms an’ legs an’ over my body.  Something about that room was wrong -- way too fuckin’ wrong -- an’ I just wanted to get the fuck out, but I couldn’t move.

Wayne noticed me hesitatin’ so he pointed to the bed.  “Toss him there an’ leave him.  I want to savor this moment.”

I looked at him.  Then looked at the bed.  Then remembered I was carryin’ Shayes an’ while he wasn’t strugglin’, he wasn’t exactly what you’d call a lightweight, either.  I wandered over to the bed an’ let him drop onto it.  He bounced onto his stomach an’ started to roll around -- tryin’ to get comfortable, I guess, since he knew he wasn’t goin’ nowhere.  I watched him, for a second.  Watched him realize he was on a bed an’ understand what was gonna happen.  What was really gonna happen.  An’...an’ I gotta hand it to the guy -- he didn’t give up.  He scooted ‘round to sit up an’ try to see through the blindfold, an’ he started yammerin’, fast an’ breathless, “Listen, listen, you don’t understand.  I’m a cop.  I keep a tight, steady schedule.  People’re going to be looking for me, soon.  Someone may’ve seen your van and they’ll tell the police and it’ll be ten times worse for you if you’ve hurt me in any way, if you’ve done anything to me.  So, let me go, please.  Be smart about it.  I’ll walk away.  No harm, no foul.  Okay?  Okay?” 

Wayne just snickered, an’ that’s when it washed over me like cold ocean water.  This whole set-up, this whole plan, this whole room -- revenge against a cop had nothin’ to do with it.  Neither did loneliness or the world’s hypocrisy or his own sense of injustice.  An’ gettin’ a homophobe like Shayes to enjoy what he said he hated -- that was all a lie.  This...all of this...it was just another fuck to Wayne an’ Lenny.  It was just sex.

How the fuck could I have missed that?  Was I that fuckin’ blinded by my own need for revenge?  Was I that closed off to the idea that maybe I was bein’ used to get a couple of perverts a guy they could never get on their own?  Was I that fuckin’ stupid?

I looked at Wayne like I’d never seen him before.  He was standin’ to one side of the bed, watchin’ Shayes move around an’ chatter the same crap, over an’ over.  An’ he was rubbin’ his own chest an’ crotch.  An’ boner; it was really showin’ in his pants.  Lenny was standin’ on the other side, almost lickin’ his lips.  There wasn’t any hate or hurt or fear or confusion in their eyes, now; all that was there was just plain lust.