Sex in the Sky

I was staring out at the wide expanse of the Cascade Mountains as I piloted over them. I worked for one of the airlines, based in Seattle. I usually flew small, 70-seat commuter aircraft, but was certified to fly all the way up to a 737. I had spent almost every waking moment from the time I was 12 learning how to fly. I loved the freedom and thrill of soaring through the air.

I’m one of the few people who didn’t have to enter the military to get a commercial pilot’s license. But, with the horrid slump that the airline industry was currently in, we had all agreed to trim back our hours by just five a week in order to avoid layoffs. At twenty-six, I was one of the youngest pilots in the fleet, but I had enough seniority to avoid losing my job. But I agreed with my fellow pilots and would rather use up some vacation time to avoid anybody losing their job. So instead of being off three days out of every week, I was off four. I hate being idle; I can’t sit back and do nothing. So I here I am, piloting a buddy of mine’s DC-3, doing cargo runs to Wenatchee from Seattle.

It was close to noon and the middle of October. The air was crystal clear. I could see Spokane to the east and Vancouver to the north and the majesty of Mount Baker and Rainier to either side of me. This is why I love flying. I dropped into Wenatchee and waited the two hours for the cargo to be unloaded and the plane to be refueled. Then I was off again.

It was a simple, forty minute flight over the mountains and down into Seattle. I reached cruising at fifteen thousand feet and radioed my position. I hit my vector and set off over the mountains. Shortly after, the right engine shuddered. Smoke started billowing off the wing. Then the whole plane took an electrical shock, probably static build up. I lost all electrical systems and the radio. Then I heard the right engine stall and stop. Followed quickly by the left shuddering, then stopping. Then silence.

Adrenaline pumped through me. I could feel my heart beating in my throat. I saw black spots before my eyes. Then my training took over and calm overcame me. I still had hydraulic control of the flaps and rudder. I didn’t want to play them too much. With electric down, I couldn’t restart the engines. I was dead in the water and skimming on the air currents over the mountains. I had two choices, going back and hope to go down somewhere clear, but the forests and cliffs made it unlikely. Or I could continue, hoping to find a valley to set down in.

The choice was soon taken out of my hands. I was going down about 1000 feet a minute. I wasn’t going to be able to stay afloat much longer. Then the perfect valley appeared before me. It was long and relatively flat, clear enough to put the plane down. Too bad my aim sucks. The controls were getting heavy, I didn’t know if I was going to be able to hang on. Then the belly skimmed over some tall cedars. I was scant feet off the ground, coming in too fast. Then the belly hit snow. I was thrown against my restraints, feeling myself bruise. The wing caught on a hidden rock and the whole thing turned sharply, rolling over and all went black in a cacophony of screaming metal and heat and pain.

I awoke some time later. I was hanging upside down in my seat, strapped in to the chair. There was blood dripping on my face; obviously I was bleeding from somewhere. I had spent too much time hanging upside down; my head was killing me. I reached up to unbuckle myself. It gave way with a loud click and I fell to the roof. I hobbled out of the plane, aware of the smell of gas. I made it to the door and crawled out into the blinding snow. I pulled myself out into the shelter of the trees. Then I spent some time assessing what I could of the damage to my body. I couldn’t tell how long I had been unconscious. But except for some bruising from the straps on my chair, a headache that may or may not be a concussion, and a gash in my left leg, I was relatively sound. That was where the blood was coming from.

I unbuckled my belt, quickly pulling it through the loops and tying a tourniquet around my leg at the knee. I was wearing boots, with heavy socks, jeans, my black silk boxers, a t-shirt and a heavy Irish woolen sweater. I had a jacket in the plane and a first aid kit.

Now was the hard part: could I put weight on the leg. I used a nearby rock to help me stand, keeping my weight on my right leg. Then I tried to put a little force on the left. I buckled and almost fell. I wasn’t going to be able to walk on it. I searched around me and found a piece of debris, a girder from the wing. I picked it up and used it as a make do crutch. I got into the plane, got my coat and first aid kit and hobbled back out. I didn’t think anything would set off the gas fumes, but it was too much, too thick to stay inside.

When I got back out and sat on the rock, I took stock of what was in the first aid kit. Not a lot. Not a thing to stitch up my leg with; nothing to help with the gash. It looked angry and red but wasn’t bleeding too heavily. I lay back on my coat on the ground with my leg propped on the rock. Thankfully I had the flares and had a clear view of the sky. I only hoped that if someone were going to search for me, it would be before the sun set. Heavy clouds were moving in from the west. More snow.

I sat in the snow for a while, conserving energy, doing arm rolls to keep my circulation going, trying to stay warm. Then I heard a crunching in the snow. I prayed it wasn’t an animal. But luck had never been kind to me. The sounds got closer and closer. I turned my head towards the sound and was surprised to see a man.

He was tall, very tall, so much more than my six feet. He looked like he badly needed to shave and had probably not had a haircut in months if not years. He walked up to me and knelt by my head. He took a look at my leg before scowling at me. He muttered something under his breath. His voice was gravelly, gruff, deep but kind. Then helped me to stand before slinging me over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. I sputtered in surprise. He didn’t speak, although I asked him many questions. I thought maybe he was deaf.

For all his unkempt appearance, his clothes smelled fresh. I didn’t smell sweat or smoke or any other unpleasant odors: just clean, fresh clothes, soap and man. It had been a long time since I had been with anyone and the upside down view of his ass reminded me. He walked tirelessly for at least an hour. The entire time he didn’t say one word. Then we turned a corner at the end of the valley into a smaller clearing. There was a waterfall that poured down over the rocks into a small pool before leaving in a stream away from where we walked. Beyond the stream was a cabin, nestled slightly under an outcropping of rock.

There was at least two feet of snow on the ground, but the pool of water was steaming, even with the ice-cold waterfall. The silent giant carried me to the cabin, opening the door and carrying me to a bed in the corner. It was a large bed, bigger than my king-size at home. He set me down gently and then turned away to what looked like a kitchen. He came back with a bowl of steaming water, some strips of fabric, a needle and scissors. He pulled out a bottle of liquor from his coat pocket and handed it to me before turning and hanging his coat on a hook.

When he turned back, he unlaced then pulled off my boots, gently avoiding tugging my leg too badly. Then he pulled off my wet sweater. When he found that my t-shirt was soaked, he pulled that off as well. Then he took the bottle from me, unscrewed the top and told me in a gravelly voice to drink until he told me to stop.

I hate bourbon; actually, I hardly ever drink. But I followed his directions while he gently removed both socks and jeans. He soaked the leg around the wound with a little hot water to loosen where it might have stuck with blood. Then he slipped off my boxers because they were soaked with blood. The mystery giant started washing my leg with a rag soaked in the hot water. I was still sipping the bourbon, forcing the liquid down my throat. I felt heat spread out from my stomach. He looked up when I giggled and took the bottle from me.

I watched lazily as he threaded the needle. I even watched as he poured some of the bourbon on my leg. I hissed at the sting, but I wasn’t feeling a whole lot at the moment. Then he started stitching me up. He worked quickly and competently, not taking too much time. I tried not to cry out or flinch. Eventually, my vision swirled and I blacked out.

I awoke under heavy blankets, lying on soft sheets and pillowed, both body and head, by soft, warm down. I don’t know how long I was out, could have been days. But I noticed it was dark, the only light coming from the fire. My giant, funny how that was how I thought of him, was sitting by the fire in a large chair with a book in his hands. I must have made a noise when I moved my legs, trying to get more comfortable. He stood and came over to me. He sat by the bed and handed me a glass with water in it and two aspirin. He told me it was for the pain and fever.

I looked up at his eyes then, the hint of fever scaring me. But they were warm and calm, the richest brown I had ever seen. There was compassion in his eyes but there was also a bone-deep sadness that made my breath hitch. But the sadness wasn’t related to me, the compassion was. I wondered what had made him so sad. Then he got up and brought back something in a bowl that smelled heavenly. It was simple broth, but it was enough. I sat and fed myself until I felt sleepy. He took the bowl from me and I snuggled down in the bed. We didn’t talk, didn’t even come close, but it was a comfortable silence. Slowly my eyes drifted closed.

I slept on and off for the next two days. When it was light out, I noticed it was snowing and pretty heavily outside the window. Any search for me was not happening until the storm cleared. I was content to lie in the bed and heal. I did become feverish and my giant took care of me. He wiped my brow and fed me aspirin to bring down the fever. He moved silently and gracefully for someone so tall. I would say he was at least six-nine and probably would tip the scales at 300 pounds. But he wasn’t fat; he was muscular and powerful.

With his coat off, he wore red thermal long underwear and it clung to him. He was strong and hulking under the soft cotton. Dark hair showed at the collar and through the buttons that trailed down to his crotch. He wore thick socks that covered his feet and the leg holes, but I bet he was hairy from collar to toes. He never said much, a few words at most. But I found out his name was Grey. He was thirty and had lived on the mountain for the past seven years. This wasn’t one conversation that I got this out of him; it took all of two days of coaxing to get that much information. He was quiet and private but no matter how much time passed, his eyes were still sad.

I woke up on the third day and saw sunshine pouring through the window onto my feet under the blanket. Grey was nowhere to be found. I took a chance and put my feet on the floor and stood. My left leg was sore, but I could put pressure on it. I hobbled to the door after wrapping a blanket around my shoulders. I opened the door and looked out at the steaming pool. At least three feet of snow had fallen. A rescue was going to be difficult at best. But at least the sun was shining. Then I heard a sound off to my right. I turned and forgot to breath when I beheld the sight before me.

Grey stood with his back to me, with his feet braced apart by the width of his shoulders. He was naked. He stood facing the pond and I watched the muscles in his body. His skin was dark, tan from the sun and from his ancestors. I saw the strength of his calves, covered thickly in dark hair, then his thighs and the cheeks of his ass. Each was pinched and dimpled from his stance, there was a light dusting of dark hair and a patch above them at the base of his spine. His back was immense and so strong.

He could have posed for an anatomy book let alone pin-up calendars. Alone, he didn’t look so tall; he was so perfectly proportioned. I saw his shoulders, big, thick, rounded like bowling balls. His neck was strong beneath the shaggy hair. Then I noticed that his arms were moving, bunching muscles on his biceps dusted with more dark hair were in motion, rhythmically. He was masturbating. I felt myself thicken, plumping under the soft blanket around me.

I watched Grey move, pleasuring himself. I stood there, watching him for a few moments before I noticed something hanging between his legs. It was black. It looked like underwear. My underwear. I got even harder. He was rubbing himself in the silk of my boxer shorts. I didn’t mind. He had saved my life. Hell, I bought the underwear and like wearing it because of how it rubbed against me. All it took was a brief walk and an impure thought and I had a raging erection. I figured that if he wanted to use my underwear to get himself off, it was the least I could do. Then I noticed Grey start to move faster. He brought his other hand forward and threw my underwear over his shoulder. His hips started jerking and his arm stopped moving so smoothly. Haltingly he breathed, throwing his head back and grunting in release.

His hand came up to his mouth and he tasted himself. I could have shot right there. Then Grey lowered his head, almost like he was defeated and gave a sigh. I’ve never heard anything like it. It was as if his heart was broken. It was lonely and sad as well as soul rendering. My heart broke for him and my erection quickly disappeared. I stepped back through the door and shut it. My voyeuristic foray done. I hopped back in bed and waited for Grey to return.

A few hours later, Grey did come into the cabin. He had all of my clothes and they were wet. He laid them in front of the fire to dry. He had washed my clothes. I felt my heart thicken in my chest. I watched as Grey moved around, preparing a meal. He had put back on his thermal underwear and jeans. I watched his simple motions, how graceful he moved for having hands that could so easily crush. He was a contradiction. If you didn’t look in his eyes, he looked like a thug, a warrior, dangerous in all ways. But once you looked in his eyes, he was kind and gentle, a dancer or swimmer and no danger to anyone or anything. I got out of bed and headed towards him. I wanted to offer some comfort. He still looked so damn sad. But I never got the chance. He handed me another pair of his thermal underwear to wear. The legs and sleeves were too long, but I was covered. We sat down and had a silent dinner.

Later, after a few more words, I got up and grabbed a few items. I had Grey sit in the chair by the fire. I took the large bowl full of water and the razor and soap as well as the scissors. I wetted down his hair and started to trim it. After about an hour of snipping, Grey had a shorter hairstyle. Okay so there was no style, but it was shorter with no noticeable gaps. Then I trimmed up his beard and soaped up the rest of his face before I started shaving him.

When I was all done, wiping off the last of his beard, I saw him for the first time. He was a really handsome man. His nose was straight and his lips full. His chin was strong and he had what looked like dimples. All he needed was to smile. The easiest way to get someone to smile is smile first. All he did was grab my hand and ask why I did what I did. I had no easy answer. When I still didn’t answer him, he looked away and said that I should probably sleep. I was tired so I went to bed.

I woke a few hours later. Grey lay by me on the bed, thrashing and whimpering. I went to reach out to him but I never made it. He sat up screaming. I touched his arm, but he whipped away from me, stomping over to the fireplace. He rested an elbow on the mantel and his forehead in his palm. He was shaking. I got out of bed and headed towards him. He looked up. He was terrified. He was also fighting tears. He looked away from me and I saw him loose the fight.

I watched as his chest heaved with sobs that he tried to keep quiet. I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around what I could. I pulled his head to me and cupped his cheeks. Tears were streaming out of his closed eyes. I brushed the tears away and hugged him tighter. All at once, with an audible sob, Grey grabbed me and hugged me to him. He buried his face in my shoulder and held on as the sobs took him over. I kept stroking his hair, smoothing my hand up and down his strong back. After a few minutes, the heaving slowed then stopped. My shirtfront was soaked.

Grey pulled away as if embarrassed. He pushed me away gently then walked away to the door. He stepped into his boots and grabbed his coat. Then he was gone into the night.

I didn’t follow. My leg wouldn’t support it and I wouldn’t know where to look. With how dark it was, he could stand just five feet away and I wouldn’t see him. So I hobbled back over to the bed and waited. I fell asleep waiting. With the gray light of morning, streaming in my face, I realized that Grey hadn’t come back to bed. I didn’t know where he was. But I was afraid to look outside.

Once with and once without his knowledge I had invaded his fiercely guarded privacy. I didn’t want to again unless invited. I got up and went to the door, intending only to peek then shut the door. But he wasn’t standing just outside. I searched the horizon, at least what I could see of it. He wasn’t around. I stepped outside, intending to search for him when I heard him call out to me. Just my name: Seth. I turned to find him in the pool. Steam rose around him and his skin was rosy. There were snowflakes dusting in his eyelashes and in his newly shorn hair. They also dusted the dark mat of hair covering his chest. It wasn’t supposed to be an erotic sight. But it was; very much so.

He called to me again by name. I loved the sound of his gravelly voice calling out to me. I walked the ten steps to the edge of the pool where I found his clothes in a pile. He motioned me into the water. He told me it would help with my leg. I shucked the borrowed thermal suit and walked into the water. It was warmer, but not uncomfortably so, than a hot tub. It bubbled at my feet slightly. I immediately relaxed. Near where Grey sat, there was a shelf of rocks. He had me sit by him. We didn’t talk, but let the warm water sooth. I was still pretty bruised, not permanently injured, but it was in a really ugly recovery stage. It was pleasant. It was mellow.

The snow falling was hypnotic. It rested on the water for a split second before disappearing. Then of course there was the snow that caught on Grey. It sprinkled the hair on his chest and I caught myself a couple of times, staring.

Grey looked at me too. But he was assessing my bruises. He apologized for not having any leeches in the water so it would clear up the bruises. I didn’t bring up last night, and neither did he. After a quiet hour in which I discovered a peace I had never known, he told me we should get out. I protested, but he assured me we could go back, but the water wasn’t healthy to sit in for too long. He got out first and donned his suit with his back to me. Maybe he did notice my checking him out. But red cotton underwear clings and clings even more when wet. He turned to give me a hand out and I saw how well the cotton clung to him. I almost sank down into the water for fear of sporting an erection. But I kept it under control and climbed out and donned my own outfit. I wasn’t ashamed of my reaction, but I was afraid of adding to Grey’s troubles.

We talked a little more that afternoon. I found out he had been in the Army and was a mechanic. I told him all about my dreams. I explained why I loved flying and even though my plane had crashed, it was due to faulty equipment, not my error. I wasn’t afraid to go back up. I couldn’t wait to fly again. He laughed for the first time. He did have dimples. His laugh was gruff, like he hadn’t done it in a long, long time. But it was still one of the nicest sounds I could remember. And for one second, the sadness left his eyes. He had been handsome before, but when he smiled, he became beautiful.

‘Alright guys, you had your chance with it, now it’s my turn. Move it!’

They got up and spread out again. Andy then saw that Brad-Lee had carried a small gym bag over to the bed, and had placed it next to the bed. He looked down at Andy and whistled appreciatively, ‘Damn, you’re some hapnin’ shit, aren’t you mother fucker?’

Andy nodded his head, the last time’s refusal of a reply’s consequences still painfully present.

Brad-Lee and Brewster broke out in laughter at seeing the eager nod of Andy’s head.

‘A bitch is learnin’ real quick what’s what around here.’ Brad-Lee bent down and was taking out weird looking things from gym bag, placing them on the bed. He took out a small table tennis-like racket, a long, thick plastic looking dick with a solid end attached to it and another plastic cock with a strap attached to it. Laying the stuff neatly beneath Andy’s ass, Brad-Lee looked up with a glint in his eyes as he said, ‘Bri, hand me the lube.’ Brad-Lee was rubbing his hands like someone looking forward to sitting down to a good plate of food.

*

Brad-Lee picked up the strapless dildo and lathered it up with lube. He also dropped a big dollop of the lube on to Andy’s pucker and worked the cold liquid with his fingers roughly until Andy was slick again. He pressed the head of the dildo to Andy’s entrance and violently shoved it in all the way without warning, and without giving Andy time to adjust.

Andy yelled at the invasion until all the air in lungs was spent. He struggled to get his breath back as he watched Brad-Lee fumble with the dildo. Suddenly an almighty jolt started deep inside of Andy which made him feel like he was being torn inside out. Brad-Lee looked up with lust and satisfaction as he saw the discomfort on Andy’s face. Andy realized it wasn’t a normal dildo, but a vibrator, a very strong vibrator. Amazing even himself by being able to form words, Andy said, ‘Please, it hurts.’ Just then he saw Brad-Lee lean forward over his ass and stomach, shouting, ‘The next rule, don’t speak unless spoken to.’ A second after Brad-Lee had said it the vibrator went crazy inside Andy.

‘Maybe that’ll teach it its place,’ a satisfied Brad-Lee said. The pain was excruciating, it felt as if someone was literally slicing his ass open.

‘And that ain’t even full speed yet, Brad-Lee boasted to Brewster.

‘As if I didn’t know,’ Brewster replied jokingly.

Andy didn’t care what the ‘rules’ were. His whole body was trembling with the vibrations. He decided to try again. This time he yelled, trying to put as much of the pain he was experiencing in his voice, ‘Please! You’re hurting me!’

‘Well would you look at that, Brad. It’s mocking you,’ came Jason’s voice.

In a matter of seconds Brad-Lee was on top of Andy. He took the other vibrator and slipped it past Andy’s panting mouth. He slipped it all the way down Andy’s throat. Andy gagged, but that only encouraged Brad-Lee further. He hooked the straps behind Andy’s head then fumbled for a moment and the vibrator shot to life. The vibrator was hitting the back of Andy’s throat violently and mercilessly. Andy continued to moan through the intrusion in his mouth and bit down on the rubber in an effort to stifle the pain. He saw Brad-Lee through tear misted eyes move down again and then do something to the vibrator in his ass. This time Andy almost lifted off the bed from the force of the vibrator that ripped through his body, had it not been for the tightness of the ropes. Pain shot through Andy’s guts.

‘Maybe that’ll teach you to obey your master,’ Brad-Lee said smugly.

Andy was beyond comprehension. His only thoughts were about the fire spreading through his insides. Andy felt a hand grasp his chin then heard someone holler, ‘Focus!’

Andy tried to open his eyes and look at the man yelling, but the pain was all encompassing. Feeling fingernails bite in to his flesh, Andy forced himself to open his eyes and look Brad-Lee in the eyes.

‘You DO NOT come without my say so, right?’

Andy made a slight nod with his head and felt the nails dig deeper. He nodded his head more vigorously.

‘Good boy.’

Andy felt Brad-Lee take up his old spot at the bottom of the bed, in perfect view of his ass. He felt more lube being added to his ass. The coldness felt like a salve. He also felt the intensity of the vibrator in his ass being adjusted to where it was at the beginning. The relief Andy felt was enough to have made him break out in tears had he not been bawling already. Andy heard Brad-Lee say, ‘What you waiting for, Bri? A fucking invite?’

Andy saw the hesitation in Brian’s eyes, but that was quickly replaced by a stone-like look that didn’t betray any emotion. He felt Brian’s hot breath on his limp cock and he watched Brian lower his head down on to it. Brian then took Andy’s cock and balls in to his mouth, and washed it between his tongue and mouth. As Brad-Lee got ready to adjust the vibrator, he reminded Andy, ‘Remember, you don’t come without my express say-so, you hear?’

Andy nodded his head quickly. His throat had started aching and the last he needed was for the pressure of the vibrator in his ass or mouth to go up again. He felt the positioning of the vibrator shift in his ass. And was beginning to fee-

‘Ugh!’ Andy moaned as Brad-Lee hit that hard spot inside him. His cock jumped to life so fast that Brian was forced to let it slide out of his mouth and only take his shaft in.

‘Ugh!’ Andy moaned again. Two thrusts later and Andy felt his body shudder with release. His balls were so contracted Andy thought they were going to burst. Brian never missed a drop of his release. As Andy was trying to calm himself after his release he looked up in to the sadistic smile of Brad-Lee’s.

‘Didn’t I tell you not come without my permission, whore?’ It wasn’t yelled at the top of Brad-Lee’s voice, but in a commanding, militaristic voice.

Andy just moaned. He wanted to apologise and let Brad-Lee know how sorry he was, but the vibrator in his mouth left him mute.

‘It looks to me like this bitch just doesn’t want to learn. Brad-Lee was speaking more to himself than anyone else. ‘You are a worthless piece of human waste. You are lower than the shit paper I use to wipe my ass. Your whole purpose for existing is to give pleasure to people like us. You’re useless for anything else. And I’ll make sure you believe that tonight, even if it kills you.’

And with that Andy felt a smack on his right globe. The force with which it was delivered stunned Andy so much only by the second smack did he realise Brad-Lee was using the small racket to hit him. Suddenly everything became too much for Andy and the animal in him came out. He struggled and pulled on the restraints and through the laughter and continuous punishment of Brad-Lee yelled obscenities through the vibrator in his mouth. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to do, but the sound of the bedpost creaking and the mattress shaking was satisfying enough. Brad-Lee leaned in closer and studied Andy’s bound wrists and ankles.

‘Jesus, Brian! Why didn’t you make those knots that tighten the rope when he struggles?’

‘I forgot.’

‘Bullshit! You remember what happened the last time someone got loose; it was fucking chaos up in here! Jase, grab his left arm. Brew, steady his other side.’

The animal born strength in Andy was making his eyes fierce and he was satisfied to see shock and fear in the eyes of his captors’. Then Andy felt Brad-Lee’s hands encircling the hollow of his throat and press down hard. Almost immediately all the fight left Andy again as he struggled to breathe around the vibrator and hands on his throat. Satisfied that their captive had calmed down, they released Andy and stepped back. Brewster was the first to speak after he’d gotten his breath back.

‘Yew, just on cue, hey guys? Wasn’t this about where the others had also cracked?’ he sounded amused.

‘Yea,’ answered Brad-Lee with an irritated voice. Glaring at Brian, he continued, ‘That’s why I told short-shit over there to make sure he done a good job in caging the fucking animal.’

‘I said I forgot, didn’t I?’

‘Who you talking to, boy?’ Brad-Lee sounded indignant.

‘Guys! Let’s wrap it up, eh? It’s late and I’ve got early appointments.’ Alan sounded so rational to Andy, as if he was talking about finishing up a board game.

‘You sure that mutha’s broken properly? He won’t have another go at one of us when we untie him for the main event?’ Brad-Lee sounded sceptical.

When Brewster answered him, the last bit of bravado seeped out of Andy. Pulling another knife from a bag on the floor and handing it to Alan, Brewster said, ‘Let the bitch try,’ and looked Andy up and down.

Brewster took control of the situation then and said to Jason and Brian, ‘Untie him, guys.’ Handing the camera to Alan, both he and Brad-Lee stripped naked. Before Brian and Jason lowered Andy’s knees, they switched off the vibrator in his ass and pulled it out slowly. Immediately Andy’s ass missed its filling presence. They untied his wrists and removed the vibrator from his mouth. The first word Andy could speak as soon as he could form a word came out as barely a whisper, but there none the less.

‘Assholes,’ came Andy’s raspy voice.

‘What you say, cumbag?’ Brewster asked menacingly.

At that moment Andy looked up at them with so much hatred and pure disgust and willed himself to go on.

‘I said,’ and before Andy could continue a fit of coughs racked his body, but as soon as he could continue he said, ‘ASSHOLES!’ He half yelled, half cried the word. The fist that connected with his jaw came so quick he didn’t have any time to back away. His head swung with the blow and his whole body felt the impact.

Jason had to hold Brad-Lee back and talk him down from doing anything more to Andy at that moment.

‘Hey, hey! Listen to me, Brad. If you mess him up now then you’ll ruin the main event. Jason sounded exasperated. ‘You hearin’ me Brad?’

‘Yea I fuckin’ hear ya. If you guys would just have let use “all” my techniques on him like I did on those first couple of bitches then he’d have been broken already no problem.’

‘The reason we don’t let you loose on them all with your “techniques “is because there was hardly anything left for us after you were done with them!’

A grin broke out over Brad-Lee’s face at the memory. ‘Yea, those were some good times, eh?’

Nobody answered him, but Jason gave a what-do-you-do sigh. Brad-Lee pushed Andy aside none too gently then settled in to Andy’s old spot on the bed. He then commanded Andy to get on his knees and bend over him, facing away from him. Andy wanted to do something else to Brad-Lee but thought better of it and decided he’d pushed Brad-Lee far enough. Andy did what Brad-Lee told him and as soon as he hit position he felt two lubed up fingers roughly enter him and lube him up. He felt the fingers poke and stretch him.

‘You getting this, Al? Don’t miss a second of it.’

‘Since when do you give orders ’round here?’ came Alan’s terse reply.

‘No, I mean I just meant…’ Brewster’s voice was cut short by the shake of Alan’s head to just get on with it. Abruptly Brad-Lee’s fingers were pulled out and Andy felt Brad-Lee’s hands on his hips as he was pushed and impaled on Brad-Lee’s rapidly filling dick. Andy gave a moan but he was still stretched wide from the dildo so he could take it with some ease. When he saw Brewster approaching from the front and felt Brad-Lee pulling him back to his chest and hook his arms with his own, panic gripped his being as Andy realized what the ‘main event’ was to be. He tried to hop off of Brad-Lee but Brad-Lee’s grip on his arms severely limited his movements. Andy was struggling with all his might, but he refused to beg these men and degrade himself further. Brad-Lee’s hardening cock was filling him out and stretching him but he knew that was nothing like what was to come. He saw Brewster’s lubed up cock approach his ass and felt it prodding at his ass.

‘Relax your pussy, slut,’ Brewster’s voice warned. Andy knew resisting him would only worsen the inevitable; they were going to take him eventually. He put all his energy in to unclenching his ass and accepting the second dick. With a wet plop Brewster’s cock head slid past his entrance and proceeded further. Andy couldn’t help it, the pain was mind numbing and he had to yell ‘Ugh! Please, I’m begging you!’

‘Eager little whore, ain’t he?’ came Brad-Lee’s amused voice.

‘No I mean-Ugh!’

Both Brewster and Brad-Lee were now completely buried inside of him. Without giving him a second to adjust, Brewster thrust in to him violently. Brad-Lee lifted his hips to meet Brewster’s thrust. Within seconds of the first thrust Andy was aware of a hot liquid spilling from his ass, and he was sure by the amount of pain he was experiencing it wasn’t lube or shit.

‘That’s it bitch. Let that cunt bleed!’ came Brewster’s voice. Through the fog of the searing pain in his guts and tears of pain and degradation, Andy felt himself being pulled back even further, until his head was resting in the nook of Brad-Lee’s neck. He then noticed a naked Jason move towards him. Alan was zooming in on them as Jason lowered his ass on Andy’s face.

‘Suck on that, slut. Lick me like you were born to!’

Andy suddenly felt sick. The rhythm of the thrusts had increased and suddenly he had Jason’s ass in his face. He felt both his nipples being twisted between two thumbs and a couple of index fingers, then heard, ‘Lick me bitch!’

Andy tentatively stuck his tongue out and started to run his tongue between Jason’s crack. He heard Jason moan appreciatively then say, ‘Rim me good, bitch! Give it to me!’

Andy increased his speed. Brewster and Brad-Lee had settled in to a rough rhythm of thrust and grind with the tempo increasing and decreasing at regular intervals. It was obvious that they wanted to make this round last.

‘Search me, bitch!’ Jason commanded. When Andy figured out what he meant, he shook his head in an effort to shake Jason off. He felt Jason lean slightly forward again and as he gripped and twisted Andy’s nipples he yelled again, ‘Search me!’

Andy thrust his tongue in to Jason’s ass and was surprised to find it wasn’t as bad as he’d feared it to be. As he was tongue fucking Jason’s ass and listened to his moans and Brewster and Brad-Lee’s grunts Andy felt a mouth enclosing around his dick again. Brian. He was just as gentle as he’d been the first time. He swirled Andy’s cock in his mouth and licked at the tip pf his dick until Andy started to swell.

Andy had gotten in to Brewster and Brad-Lee’s rhythm of thrust and grind and was relieved to have at least somewhat adapted to their sizes and assault. Suddenly as Brewster increased his pace and Brad-Lee followed, Jason jumped off of Andy’s face and he felt his tongue slip out of Jason. Jason turned around and yanked Andy’s head back by his hair and speared his dick down Andy’s throat. He seemed to have adopted the same urgent tempo as Brewster and Brad-Lee had. Brian had also increased the suction on his dick. Through all this Andy was acutely aware of the whir of the camera as Alan moved up and down the bed, focussing and zooming in on certain angles. God how he wished he could give an almighty bite and separate this weapon from its master. Andy felt the twitch of Brad-Lee’s cock and the contracting of Brewster’s balls that warned him they were getting close. At that moment Brewster slightly adjusted his position of entry and grazed past Andy’s prostate. Then second time, then the third and he felt himself contract and with a guttural moan explode in to Brian’s throat. The contractions in his ass and throat must have pushed the others over the edge as well as almost simultaneously the room broke out in a chorus of moans and grunts. At some point in to all this happening Andy felt Jason’s thumb and middle finger clamp down on his nostrils, making him have to swallow very fast and very hard to be able to breathe at all. It was a few seconds before Andy realised that the steady spurts of cum were coming at a more constant rate, with a sharp metallic taste. Andy sputtered and choked and thrust his head, but Jason was pinching his nostrils and he was suffocating. So out of pure need for survival Andy swallowed every drop of Jason’s urine. Jason made the sounds of relief as he emptied himself in to Andy. Brad-Lee had stopped his thrusts but Brewster was still mildly humping Andy for a short while before collapsing on top of him, thus sealing Brian’s head between them. Brian was gently sucking and licking on Andy’s now very sensitive and limp penis. When Jason had spent himself he retracted his cock out of Andy’s mouth and laughed as Andy gasped and struggled for breath. Alan was in his face, capturing every emotion on tape. Andy attempted to pull his arms free from Brad-Lee’s grip and just as Andy gave a massive tug Brad-Lee released his arms and Andy flew through the air, landing on the edge of the bed. He lost his balance and slid down the floor. He was still gasping and sputtering as he saw Alan kneel by his side.

‘Natural performer if I ever saw one. These tapes are definitely keepers.’

If Andy had the strength left in him he’d have decked Alan in the face right then and there. As Andy tried to straighten himself up and sit up he balked over at the pain that shot up from his spine to his neck. He rolled over and settled on his stomach.

‘I call the bathroom first,’ yelled Jason as he shot off the bed like a frightened cat. As the bathroom door closed and Brewster plopped down next to Brad-Lee on the bed, Alan said to Brian, ‘Help me put away the cameras and clear the place up, will you?’

‘In a minute.’

Brian got up from the bed and knelt beside Andy. He studied him for a moment before getting up and heading over to the kitchen. He brought over a glass of water and Andy, forgetting his pride, lapped up every drop noisily, grateful for the chance to wash down the taste of urine. Brian took the glass from Andy, and then whispered, Hey, you okay, Andrew?’

‘Piss off,’ came Andy’s exhausted voice.

‘Yo, Bri, you getting his number or what? I told you to give me a hand in sorting this mess.’

Giving a mildly exasperated sigh Brian got up from next to Andy and moved over to where Alan was standing.

Andy remained where he was, back now propped up against the bed. As he sat motionless Brewster, then Brad-Lee got up to use the bathroom, emerging fully dressed and looking like butter wouldn’t melt in their mouths. Only the occasional disinterested glance one of them would shoot him to make sure he wasn’t up to anything as they cleared the cabin denoted their acknowledgement of his presence. He wouldn’t be able to do anything even if he wanted to, Andy thought. He was completely shattered, physically and emotionally. Andy wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but eventually he noticed the guys finishing up what they were busy with. A moment later he noticed Brewster’s frame towering over him.

‘Get up,’ he barked. When Andy remained where he was Brewster bent down and yanked him up by his hair. He turned Andy around and locked his arms behind his back. Andy noticed the rest of them form a half circle around him and Brewster, all except Alan. He searched for him and saw him hovering over the fire. Andy noticed Alan pick up something out of the fire that looked like something you’d poke the fire with, only with something at its tip, glowing red from the fire. As Alan approached them Andy felt the heat emanating from the iron. Alan came to stand before him and Brewster, Brian on his right side, Brad-Lee and Jason to his lift. Dropping his head a little to catch Andy’s eyes that were fixed on the poker, he said, ‘Just a little something to take away with you, as a token of our appreciation for your…services.’

As Andy saw the poker get closer to him, he jumped and backed and struggled with everything that was left in him. He started screaming, not words but just terrified screams that communicated his terror to them all. But Brewster’s grip was unrelenting. As the poker connected with Andy’s left breast and sizzled with the burn of flesh, Andy’s breath caught in his throat, silent tears falling down his face. After about four seconds Alan removed the poker and examined his handiwork. He nodded as if congratulating himself on his good work, then nodded at Brewster. Brewster eased his grip, letting Andy, who had started shaking from shock; fall in a heap on the floor. Before Alan turned to put the poker away, he looked down at Andy with pure disgust in his eyes. Then, saying to Andy with a mixture of revulsion and loathing; ‘Now every person who ever decides to fuck you will know who you belonged to first, and what a cheap, dirty slut you are.’ Before he turned around Alan hawked deep in his throat and spat on Andy. The gob landed on Andy’s head, trailing down his hair making a trail down his swollen cheek. Turning around and replacing the poker, Alan nodded to Brewster and Brad-Lee who silently bent down and lifted Andy by his ankles and wrists. They carried his limp body to the door, the rest following behind.

“CHAPTER FIVE TO FOLLOW SOON”