Sins of the Father

Chapter 1

This story features non-consensual sex, torture and humiliation heaped on a teenager who’s been abducted by a pair of sadistic serial rapists. If this is not your cup of tea, please don’t read any further. I’ve kept the protagonist’s identity purposefully ambiguous but there are enough hints for anyone who’s a fan of soap opera to recognize him. This story is purely fantasy and should not be considered to represent in any way the TV character or his portrayer. On the same note, abduction, rape and bareback sex are not things you should practice in life. Lastly, I’d love to hear from you, so do drop me an email. With that – onward!

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As a rule, Jack didn’t pay much attention to the news, which some may find surprising given that his family had built their fortune in newspapers. Then again, he was a teenager – at 18, the events that shape the world often seem far less interesting than girls, sports, or cars. But not even Jack could ignore the screaming headlines of a serial rapist duo terrorizing the state of Pennsylvania, not when they attracted the inevitable comparisons to Jack’s biological father. 

It had been over two decades – before Jack was even born – since his dad had been the ringleader of a gang-rape of a college co-ed. But old sins cast long shadows, and every time a rape case came up in the news, there would be whispers and furtive looks at Jack. He’d learnt to shrug them off.

All things considered, Jack hadn’t suffered much from having a well-known rapist for a father. The family business, and the wealth it entailed, had ensured he and his siblings had grown up in the lap of luxury. Having money was always a good way to make friends, and Jack’s good looks certainly added to his appeal. Tall, handsome and athletic, Jack had more than his fair share of female admirers. Indeed, only a couple of months prior, he’d been spotted at the mall by a modelling agent and invited to a test shoot. Jack wouldn’t have agreed to it if not for his girlfriend’s insistence, but there was no denying that he made a good model.

In retrospect, he should’ve emphatically refused to do the shoot, but then hindsight is always 20/20, isn’t it? For that moment, small and insignificant as it had seemed at the time, was what brought him to the attention of Benny and Clyde.

It was a moniker the duo had come up with for themselves. They kept their victims for a week and needed a way to refer to one another during that time without giving away even the slightest hint of their true identities. The press had denounced their sick sense of humor, but that didn’t stop them from using the moniker in their news reports. “Benny & Clyde claim another victim!” “Where will Benny & Clyde strike next?” “Reward for information on Benny & Clyde.”

The press hadn’t come out and said explicitly what Benny and Clyde’s victims had endured during the week they spent at their rapists’ mercy. Words like “horrific”, “brutal” and “vicious” were tossed around, so Jack knew it had to be pretty bad stuff. The entire state was on high alert after the sixth young woman was taken from a college campus in the north of the state. She was returned a week later, very much worse for wear, but with no more information to help catch Benny and Clyde than her predecessors. The authorities had warned college-going women in their late teens and early twenties to be especially cautious as they were deemed to be the high-risk demographic.

Jack’s father had ordered bodyguards for both his daughters, who were at college. There was always a chance that Benny and Clyde might treat a fellow rapist’s offspring as trophies in some sort of competition with one another. And he was right – he’d just failed to consider that they might go after his male offspring instead.

Jack was returning from a party when he was nabbed. Of course, he shouldn’t have been out so late, and he most certainly shouldn’t have been drinking. But he’d thought – what the fuck? He was 18, he was graduating from high school in a couple of months, and if he was old enough to fight in the Middle East, he sure as hell was old enough to drink. It wasn’t like he was knocking back the strong stuff either; it was just a couple of beers, but it was enough to make him a little tipsy (not that Jack would admit he was in fact a lightweight when it came to alcohol).

So he’d shrugged off the offers of company and set off alone down the dark street towards his parked convertible (a present from his parents for his 18th birthday). The last thing he remembered was struggling to insert the key into the ignition, and a shadowy figure just beside his car. He’d tried to react but by then it was too late. The chloroform-soaked rag over his face ensured that he didn’t struggle. His limp body was lifted out of his car and loaded into a nondescript van that was driven off into the night. There were no witnesses, nobody to raise the alarm. It would be another couple of hours before his mother grew concerned.

By morning there would be a statewide manhunt for the missing teen, but by then Jack was already secreted away in Benny and Clyde’s lair, unconscious and blissfully unaware of the horrors that awaited him when he awoke.

&&&

The first thing Jack felt as he returned to the world of the living was discomfort. His mouth was dry and his body ached from the uncomfortable position he was in. There was a plank digging into his back and he was unable to move his arms or legs, which were somehow fixed in a spread-eagled position. It took him a moment to gather his bearings and when he had his heart stopped. He knew instantly that he was in big trouble – far, far worse than when his bullying of a classmate had spiraled horribly out of his control.

He was in what looked like a barn, or maybe it was a toolshed. The floor was hard-packed dirt strewn with sawdust. There were no windows; the only light came from the naked bulbs hanging from the ceiling. These lit up a table and a metal trolley, both of which were covered in tarpaulin, as well as the wooden frame to which he was tied. The latter, of course, was what set off the alarms bell in his head.

It was a rectangular frame, tilted at a 45-degree angle and held in place by two vertical supports on either side, with additional planks crossing the center to provide support for his body. He tugged frantically on the restraints that bound his wrists and ankles to the frame, but it was futile. Whoever had built the contraption he was trapped in had certainly known what they were doing.

“Help! Somebody, help me!” he screamed. He had the sinking feeling that he couldn’t be heard. He wasn’t quite right. At the sound of his yells, a door he hadn’t noticed in one corner of the barn opened, and two men stepped into the room.

At the sight of them Jack started screaming louder and thrashing about, for his worst fears were confirmed: his abductors were none other than Benny and Clyde. The men were dressed as their victims had reported, in dark blue overalls with masks covering the top half of their faces. The burly older man, who went by Clyde, appeared to be in his late 30s or early 40s; his dark hair was dusted with grey at the temples. Benny was younger by at least a decade, with a powerful build and short blond hair.

They seemed utterly unconcerned by Jack’s struggles as they approached him.

“Good morning, Jack,” said Clyde.

His greeting was ignored by Jack, who continued to shout for help and strain against his bonds.

Clyde shook his head and pressed the button on a remote device he had in his hand. Immediately Jack felt a sharp electric shock around his neck, which cut short his cries for help.

In the silence that followed, punctuated only by Jack’s gasps of pain and outrage, Clyde said, “I’m sorry we had to start off so roughly, boy, but you need to learn the first rule of being our guest: absolute obedience.”

Jack stared at him, still speechless from the electric jolt. He hadn’t noticed the collar around his neck until Clyde used it to remotely deliver the shock.

“That’s much better, isn’t it?” smiled Clyde.

Jack recovered his voice. “You fucking bastards! Let me go! My dad is gonna find you and have your fucking heads nailed to a post.”

Clyde tutted. “Such rudeness deserves another shock, don’t you agree, Benny?”

Benny nodded and Clyde held out the remote in front of their teenaged captive.

Jack’s hazel eyes widened: “Please no, not aga-!“ The rest of his words ended in a scream as Clyde’s finger pressed down on the button, long and hard.

As Jack struggled to regain his breath, Clyde continued, “My dear Jack, surely you realize by now, Daddy Dearest is the very reason you are in this mess to begin with? He’s not going to find you – at least not unless we decide to let him. It was the same way with the others.”

The defiance had gone out of Jack. “Let me go, please,” he begged. “You don’t want me. I’m not, I’m not …” He couldn’t bring himself to finish his sentence, but Clyde did for him.

“A girl? Oh dear, I think someone’s been watching too many crime procedurals. Don’t get me wrong, Jack: we’re both straight and you don’t interest us in that way. But that’s not why we took you, as you should know.”

“I don’t even like my dad!” argued Jack. It was true; he and his father didn’t get along.

“Maybe not, but he cares about you – his only son. His heir. This is from him, isn’t it?” Clyde help up something, and Jack realized that, while he was still dressed in the same clothes he’d been wearing the previous night (a t-shirt and boardshorts – Pennsylvania was enjoying a warm spring), his captors had removed his watch.

“It’s a cool watch,” said Jack defensively. “That’s the only reason I wore it.”

Clyde bared his teeth in a wide grin. “If you say so, Jackie.” He ran his fingers over the inscription on the back of the watch: “To J.C.M. – From Dad.”

“What are you going to do to me?” said Jack in a voice barely more than a whisper. The hopelessness of his situation was starting to sink in.

“Don’t tell me you don’t follow the news, Jackie. We’re going to do to you exactly what we did to those women. You’re not really that much different from them, you know.”

“What?!”

“Sluts,” Clyde spat the word out. “They deserved what they got. And you will too, because that’s what you are. A slut as well as your father’s son.”

“I’m not a slut!” Jack protested.

“Oh no? Then how do you explain these?” Clyde put the watch down on the table and picked up a sheaf of photographs which he thrust in Jack’s face.

Jack felt like he had been punched in the gut. The photos were from his modeling test shoot. He didn’t know how his captors had gotten hold of them, but they were pretty damning evidence. “I only agreed to one test shoot! And that was only because my girlfriend practically forced me to!”

“So big, strong, macho Jack was ‘forced’ to strip down to his tighty-whiteys by his girlfriend?” mocked Clyde.

Jack felt the color rise in his face. They weren’t tighty-whiteys precisely, but the distinction didn’t seem important at that moment. He hadn’t even meant to let the shoot go any further than topless shots, but the agent had cajoled him and he couldn’t very well refuse with his girlfriend looking on now, could he? It would make her think he had something to hide, and he didn’t – he had a good body, strong and masculine, honed by basketball and gym workouts. Hell, he even had the beginnings of a six-pack!

But he shouldn’t have let the agent talk him into swapping his baggy boxers for those designer undies. They’d been skimpy and tight, the white ones especially ... They’d offered a brilliant contrast to his sun-kissed skin, which was why the agent had insisted on them, but they also left very little to the imagination.

“Cat got your tongue, Jackie?” asked Clyde as he tapped the offending photo.

“Okay, okay! I agreed to take that photo, but it was a mistake! I’m not a slut, really I’m not!”

“Have you slept with your girlfriend, Jackie?”

“N-no.” He wasn’t lying. They’d only gotten together a few weeks before and she wasn’t willing to put out so soon.

“Hmm.” If Clyde didn’t believe him, he didn’t let on. “Have you slept with any girl?”

“Yes!”

“Very defensive, aren’t we?” remarked Clyde sarcastically. “How many girls?”

“What does it matter to you?” spat Jack.

Clyde smirked. His next words were like a stab to the heart for Jack. “We just need to know if we should use condoms.”

Jack freaked out. “Oh God, no! Please don’t do this! If you’re straight like you say then why would you do this?”

“Hmm, I’m not quite sure, Jackie. Why did you strip a boy naked and film it for the internet?”

Jack swallowed. “How do you –“

“We’ve done our research, Jackie. But not all our questions could be answered that way. So how many girls?”

Jack hung his head, defeated. “Two,” he said quietly.

“Only two? Macho Jack the male model has only bedded two girls? Or maybe there are others you’re not telling us about? Boys perhaps?”

Jack’s head snapped up. “No! I’m not a fag!”

Clyde shrugged. “You could’ve fooled me. Stalking another boy, underwear modeling, that hair …”

“It was only one fucking test shoot!” Jack said through gritted teeth.

“Well, it’s kind of a pity for you if you’re not gay. It’s gonna make the next week that much worse for you.”

Jack’s lower lip trembled, and his eyes filled with tears. “Please … please …” he begged. “Don’t do this. Just let me go, and I won’t tell anyone.”

“Now why would we want to let you go, Jackie? After all the trouble we went through to get you here? And setting this place up for your visit?”

“My family has plenty of money! They’ll give you whatever you want. Just agree to let me go and you’ll be rich.”

“I thought I explained this already. It’s not about the money, Jackie. It’s a message from two famous rapists to another. Your father will know we’ve beaten him when he learns we did to you what he did to his victim.”

“I’m not gay,” whispered Jack. “Don’t do gay stuff to me, please.”

“Of course we’re not gonna do gay stuff to you, Jackie. I told you, we’re not gay.”

Jack could scarcely believe his ears. “So you’re not going to, to r-rape me?”

“I didn’t say that. I said we weren’t going to do gay stuff to you. It’s not gay unless you’re on the receiving end. You are going to be the one doing gay stuff.”

Jack let out a wail and renewed his struggle to get out of his restraints.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” snapped Clyde. He jabbed the button on his remote and Jack’s thrashing took on a different tone as he received another painful electric shock.

As the shock wore off Clyde stepped closer to Jack and grasped his chin in calloused fingers. “Listen to me, Jackie. It’ll be that much worse for you if you keep this up. Right now it’s not looking like you’ll make it out of here alive and in one piece.”

That stopped Jack’s struggling. “You’re bluffing. You’ve never killed any of your victims before.”

“Those women were lucky, because we didn’t want to turn the police investigation into a manhunt for a pair of serial killers. But since you’re our last victim, we don’t have to play by those rules anymore. So if you don’t behave, and do as we tell you, we might just have to make an exception for you.”

Jack shivered. With Clyde so close to his face, he was able to look right into his gray eyes, and what he saw there terrified him. There was absolutely no kindness there, no mercy. He could believe that Clyde would kill him in a heartbeat and not bat an eyelid about it.

“Do you understand?” Clyde asked him.

Jack nodded silently, not trusting himself to speak.

Clyde’s lips twitched in satisfaction, and he took a step back, releasing his grip on Jack’s chin.

“So what do you think, Benny?” he called out over his shoulder.

Jack looked towards Benny and was filled with shame to see him studying one of the modeling pics, where all Jack had on were some very skimpy, tight white trunks and a seductive grin.

“He squeals too much,” replied Benny. It was the first time Jack had heard his blond captor speak and he was surprised to hear such a low, raspy growl. He wondered if Benny was disguising his voice. “And he’s hairy,” added Benny.

Jack turned red. For an 18-year-old he did have a fair amount of hair on his legs, arms and crotch. There’d even been a little sprouting on his chest but he’d shaved that off because he knew the girls wouldn’t like it.

“Yes, but that’s why we got the wax, remember?”

“Wax?” repeated Jack.

Clyde turned back to him and grinned wolfishly. “Yes, Jackie, wax. Have you ever gone for a waxing before?”

Jack shook his head vigorously.

“Well then, I hope you like pain. Because all that hair is gonna come off, and it’s gonna hurt. Oh, don’t look so pathetic. Your pretty locks are safe.” That wasn’t what Jack had been worried about, but he wisely held his tongue.

Benny had uncovered the metal trolley to reveal many instruments that Jack couldn’t bear thinking about and picked up a pair of scissors. He stepped up to Jack’s side and brandished the sharp, shiny implement under his chin. Jack held his breath.

“I hope you’re ready, Jackie, because this is just the beginning,” said Clyde, watching Jack’s fearful face intently. “By the time we’re done with you, you’ll have a whole new appreciation for pain.”

“No, please, please, PLEASE!” Jack made one final, desperate plea. It was for naught.

Benny just smiled and he slid the scissors under Jack’s t-shirt and began snipping away at the fabric. Jack shut his eyes and prayed. This couldn’t be real. This couldn’t be happening to him. Why was it happening to him? Just because his dad was a gang-rapist, now he was going to be gang-raped? It wasn’t fair! He was only 18. He was straight. He had a girlfriend he wanted to sleep with. He’d kept his nose clean since that bullying incident three years ago. This wasn’t even justice for what he’d done back then.

His parents had to be looking for him. His entire family, the whole town would be looking for him. There’d be a huge reward for his safe return. They’d know who was responsible. They’d find him. They had to. He couldn’t be raped and abused by these two maniacs. It couldn’t come to that … could it?

His t-shirt fell away, leaving him bare-chested. Benny moved down to Jack’s shorts. They were made of sturdy fabric but the scissors sliced through them like butter. Jack cried out when Benny accidentally stabbed him in the thigh with the point of the scissors.

“Oops, sorry,” Benny apologized gruffly, but he didn’t sound sorry at all. He’d drawn first blood. Just a pinprick really, but it was symbolic. The two men knew this boy was going to suffer beautifully.

Benny tore away the remnants of Jack’s shorts. Now all he had on were a tight pair of navy boxer briefs. That was all that stood between him and total nudity in front of these depraved sexual deviants.

Jack bit his lip, mentally willing them to somehow reconsider, to bring a halt to this insanity.

“Shit, he is even hairier than I thought,” said Benny. He was crouched down at Jack’s feet with a good view of his hairy legs and the thick treasure trail leading down from his navel to the waistband of Jack’s underwear.

Jack felt a fleeting sense of hope. Would it turn them off, seeing the proof that Jack was so distinctly male?

His hopes were crushed just seconds later. “There’s enough wax here even if he was a fucking gorilla,” said Clyde.

The scissors returned to their evil work. Benny cut away Jack’s boxer briefs and stood up to survey the captive boy. Jack hung limply from the frame, utterly naked except for the collar around his neck. A light sheen of sweat covered his nicely-defined body and glistened in the light. Inevitably his captors’ eyes were drawn to his genitals, nestled in a thatch of dark hair. Jack wasn’t overly-endowed – his cock was just average – but his low-hanging balls were large and heavy.

“Well, he’s not quite as hairy down there as I feared,” observed Clyde.

“He trims it,” grunted Benny. “Don’t you, Jack?”

Jack was trying hard not to cry, but he nodded in reply to Benny’s question. He’d considered and discarded the idea of defiance. The painful displays of what the collar around his neck could do had gone some way towards assuring his compliance.

“Those girls ever suck your cock, Jackie?”

“Yes,” whispered Jack.

“So you know how to do it,” stated Clyde with satisfaction. Jack was horrified.

“N-no, I said they sucked my cock. I’ve never sucked cock before!”

“Taken it up the ass?”

“NO!” Jack’s denial was emphatic.

This time it was Benny was grinned. “We have ourselves a virgin, pops. Our first!”

Jack felt sick to his stomach. He barely registered the fact that Benny had called Clyde “pops”. Were they really father and son? No news report had suggested that. But Jack had bigger worries right now. Every passing moment was driving home the fact that these bastards intended to anally rape him. Of course he was a virgin as far as anal sex was concerned, but he’d not considered himself a virgin since he first had sex (with a girl) two years prior.

“Well, I wouldn’t get my hopes up, Benny. I have my doubts about Jackie boy’s virginity, but I guess we’ll see when the time comes. First let’s make him presentable. Have you heated the wax yet?”

“Yeah it should be almost ready.” Clyde went over to the trolley where Jack could see the wax melting in a little ceramic pot over a lit Bunsen burner.

Benny began snipping away at the tufts of hair under Jack’s arms and then moved on to his crotch. Jack watched him anxiously, fearful of being ‘accidentally’ cut again, this time where it would hurt a lot more!

Meanwhile, Clyde dipped a flat wooden scoop into the wax and then spread it quickly on Jack’s right armpit. Jack began to realize that his spread-eagled position had been carefully calculated to make sure every part of his anatomy was exposed. He would soon learn that the planks that were supporting his back could be removed to give his tormentors access to that, too.

Jack howled as Clyde unceremoniously ripped off the paper he’d slapped on to his wax-slathered armpit. Benny grunted, “Told you he was a squealer.”

Jack’s eyes watered, but he resolved not to give his tormentors the satisfaction of hearing him ‘squeal’ again. It wasn’t a vow he was able to keep. By the time they got to his balls his whimpers had turned into full-fledged screams. Benny and Clyde’s grins grew wider.

When the last wax strip had come off his balls, the exhausted boy slumped in his bonds, dripping with sweat, the salt aggravating the freshly-depilated sections of his body. But his tormentors weren’t done waxing him yet.

“I bet his butt is just as hairy as his thighs,” commented Benny to Clyde. Jack stared at them in dismay.

“You’re right; we might as well as do a thorough job of it.” Clyde reached for the crank on a vertical support of the frame and twisted it. The frame to which Jack was secured began to rotate until Jack was leaning forwards, held up by only his bonds. Benny walked behind him and detached the planks which had been providing his back support.

“Fucking hell,” he growled as he saw the fur-dusted buns. “It’s hairy alright, but I bet it’s gonna be a great fuck once we’ve waxed it. His butt is big and round just like a woman’s!”

Jack was shaking again, hating to hear his virginal butt spoken off in that way. But there was nothing he could do about it. The wax was smeared on again and the hair was removed from the top of his buttocks down to his back of his calves. The worst was when they wrenched apart his butt-cheeks and took a good look at his asshole. Jack almost cried with impotent rage at that moment. No one besides his doctor had seen that part of him, and now these two rapists were prodding around back there, joking about what a tight fuck he would be.

Jack twitched as he felt hot wax running down his ass crack. “Relax, Jackie boy, we don’t want any hair left around your pussy now, do we?” chuckled Clyde.

Jack saw stars when Benny ripped off the wax strip he’d pasted in Jack’s crack. And then they repeated it, twice – supposedly to ensure he was perfectly smooth, but Jack suspected they were doing it for kicks.

“Smooth as a newborn,” said Clyde as the cruel duo admired their handiwork. The frame had been placed in an upright position, so Jack was basically standing.

“So can we fuck him now?” asked Benny eagerly.

“Patience, Benny. We need to clean him out first. Where’s the enema kit?”

While Benny prepared the enema, Clyde explained the ‘rules’ to Jack. “You keep the water in until we tell you to expel it. Otherwise you get punished. Have you ever had an enema before?”

Jack shook his head. “Well, consider it a good starting point to taking things up your butt. We’ll introduce a lot of foreign objects of increasing size into that tight little hole of yours over the next week so you gotta start somewhere.”

Jack really didn’t like the sound of that, especially the part about ‘increasing size’, but he wasn’t in any position to argue. The enema was ready, so Benny went behind him and pressed the lubed nozzle into his asshole. Jack resisted at first, tensing his asshole, but Benny was insistent and the nozzle made its way past his defenses quickly.

He soon realized how hard it was to hold in a load of warm, soapy water in his position. He managed it for the first round, just barely, evacuating his bowels into the bucket they’d placed under him just seconds after Clyde told him to release the water. He was so ashamed to conduct such bodily functions in front of an audience, but he wasn’t through yet.

“Another two rounds to go,” announced Clyde to Jack’s dismay. He didn’t see Benny grin slyly as he pumped even more water into Jack’s bowels the second time around. Predictably, the boy couldn’t hold it in for the extended wait Clyde had devised. Despite his best efforts, a little stream of water started to leak out of his hole and trickled down his leg.

Jack hoped that his captors hadn’t noticed, but that was a vain hope since they’d planned this entire exercise with his failure in mind.

“You’ll be punished for that, Jackie,” Clyde told him as he was finally granted permission to release the foul-smelling water into the bucket. “I hope you won’t screw up on the last round too.”

Of course, Jack did. The sheer amount of water Benny pumped in gave him stomach cramps, and the nerve-wracking fear of failure (and punishment) didn’t help matters either. It wasn’t just a trickle this time, but a full-on avalanche of water just minutes into the waiting period. The water expelled was clean, but it didn’t stop Clyde from heaping on the punishments.

“Twenty lashes for the first offense, thirty for the second,” he barked. Benny went over to the tarpaulin-covered table and unveiled a wide array of devices that would not have looked out of place in an S&M dungeon.

“You’re going to hit me with that? Fifty times?” Jack was aghast; the whip in Benny’s hand looked capable of tearing flesh apart. “Are you trying to fucking flay me alive? You assholes!”

“You haven’t learned your lesson yet, have you, Jackie boy? Add another ten lashes for insolence, Benny,” said Clyde.

Jack’s eyes bugged out. Sixty lashes from that cruel-looking whip? Why hadn’t he just held his tongue? “Oh please, please, don’t, I’m sorry.”

To his surprise Benny spoke up. “Pops, maybe we could give the kid a break. He’s probably never endured anything like this before and 60 lashes is a lot to start out with.”

Clyde glared coldly at his accomplice. “I said 60 lashes, and 60 lashes it will be. And don’t go easy on him.”

Benny cowered. “Yes sir.” He walked behind Jack and, as he passed him, Jack could’ve sworn he saw Benny silently mouth the word “sorry”.

But the apology didn’t count for anything once he began laying into Jack. The first lash hurt, cutting across his back like a streak of fire, but Jack gritted his teeth and bore it. Only 59 to go. He could take this. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of crying out. It was the second vow that day which Jack wouldn’t be able to keep.

By the time they were at 25 Jack was whimpering. At 32 he started grunting with the pain. The strokes were coming fast and furious now, falling across skin already striped with crimson welts. Benny aimed a few strokes at Jack’s buttocks, to give his back some respite.

It wasn’t enough. A dozen strokes later Jack was begging for pity. Just after the fiftieth lash, he passed out. But if he thought unconsciousness was to be a merciful release, he was wrong. He was crudely brought back to consciousness by a bottle of smelling salts jammed under his nose.

“Oh God, please, have mercy! Stop this! I’ll do anything, anything. I’ll suck your cock! That’s what you want right? I’ll do it! Just stop this. I just can’t take any more! Please!”

Clyde grinned at Jack’s tearful babbling. “Jackie, Jackie, Jackie. You were always going to suck my cock, and Benny’s, regardless of whether or not I commute your punishment. Really, boy, we’re not even half a day into this and already you’re blubbering worse than the girls we had before. You’re really not convincing us that you’re not a fag.”

Jack wanted to scream at him but forced himself to swallow the curses that were on the tip of his tongue. He was barely an hour into his captivity. There was still so much more to go, and he suspected Clyde would make it as bad as it could possibly get if he acted out. He had to swallow his pride if he wanted to survive. And he wanted to survive. He wanted to go home, and see his mom, and his sisters, and yes, even his dad. He wanted to play basketball again. He wanted to graduate from high school and start college in the fall. He wanted to finally have sex with his girlfriend.

He wouldn’t get to do any of that if he lost this battle. So even if these fuckers tore his back to shreds, even if they raped him and did all sorts of perverted gay shit to him, he was going to have to bear it. There was no other way.

To be continued …