by Hal Bodner
“That’s right. Come on over here, hunky man. You may just be playing along for now to save little Tortured Boy over there. But by the time I’m done with you, I promise, you’re gonna want me like you’ve never wanted anyone in your life.”
Jake froze. Suddenly, he had it! Hartner’s weakness was so obvious, Jake had almost overlooked it. He had no idea how to use it against him – not yet – but at least he knew what it was. Ego. Mark Hartner was an incredible egomaniac. True, he had the face and the body to justify his pride but justified or not, the way Hartner behaved was far beyond what was warranted.
Even better, Jake realized with dawning wonder, for some sick reason, Hartner found him attractive. Maybe it was only because whatever gods Tyler served had chosen him as Mark’s adversary. Perhaps Hartner felt himself drawn to Jake for that reason; he sensed Jake was potentially the instrument of his own doom. Or, maybe it was mere pique. Few men would be able to get past Mark’s stunning looks as Jake had done to see the disgusting personality beneath. Jake wondered if, in fact, Hartner had ever before been rejected as firmly as Jake had done. Perhaps Mark was driven to get what he’d been told he couldn’t have.
Jake sensed it was a combination of these factor and others. Yet somehow he also finally realized that Hartner’s obsession with him also contained a mundane element – ordinary, garden-variety attraction, though in Hartner’s case, Jake would more accurately describe it as lust. Mark Hartner had a physical yen for Jake Marshall and Jake was beginning to have an inkling of how he might exploit that desire to his advantage.
Keeping his intense blue eyes fixed on Mark’s gray ones, he slowly climbed to his feet. Hartner frowned and, without speaking, plucked the weighted rope again. Though it was one of the hardest things Jake had ever had to do, he forced himself to ignore the cry coming from Mario. Instead, he took a deep breath and, not allowing Mark’s gaze to slip free, deliberately licked his lips.
Puzzled, Mark took a step back and turned a bit – not a large enough step to put him far enough out of range so that he couldn’t push Mario with ease, but Jake knew he’d thrown him, however slightly. Putting all thoughts of the despicable person he knew Mark to be from his mind, he concentrated on the man’s body, seeking to spark his own arousal. He broke eye contact and allowed his gaze to rove across the perfect physique, drinking in every detail, trying to divorce it in his mind from his hatred of the vile soul that inhabited such a godlike shell.
The slender neck, the muscles framing it long and graceful, like fluted adornments to fleshy columns. The dimple of the hollow of the throat, moist and beaded with a few drops of perspiration, at the apex of the two slabs of muscled pectorals. The smooth hairlessness of his pale torso where the skin of his chest was like velvet, the hard dark beige nipples surrounded with just a few tiny tendrils of blond down. The flat, ridged striations of his stomach, the plates moving like chain mail when Mark twisted his body, punctuated by a deeply recessed navel set in a nest of muscle. From the way Mark was angled, Jake could see his back muscles sweep down like wings, the V shape casting a shadow under his armpit and along his sides at the top of his rib cage.
Jake took it all in, relishing every inch, allowing himself to get turned on by the prospect of running his tongue across the pristine skin, allowing his hands to knead the hard muscled chest and back, inhaling the scent of his body suffused with the musky hormones of desire, tasting it with his eagerly lapping tongue. He focused his attention on Mark’s face, on that angelic countenance, and forced himself to ignore the evil intentions blazing in the depths of the smoldering eyes. He imagined what it would be like to cup Mark’s square, firm jaw in one hand while he pressed his mouth to Hartner’s lush, full lips, probing with his tongue.
What would Mark look like, Jake wondered, with his head thrown back, his chest muscles clenched, his body thrumming with the throes of an orgasm evoked from passion and not from torture or cruelty?
Another step backward, and for the first time, Hartner seemed uncertain.
“What...?” he muttered, almost too softly for Jake to hear. “What is going through that handsome head of yours?”
“Strip,” Jake whispered the word as if it were part command, part plea, like a lover in the quiet intimacy of the bedroom. He focused on Mark’s magnificent body for one last instant and then, closing his eyes and holding the image in his mind, he put as much yearning, as much desire as he could find within himself, into his next words, “Let me see all of you. Please.”
When he opened his eyes, Hartner was standing, unmoving, his face completely devoid of expression. Jake took a chance and dropping to his knees again, he shuffled forward, hands held out to his sides, palms open, to show he was not making a threat. When he reached Hartner’s feet, he paused for an instant, looking up at him with what he hoped was something akin to adoring passion. Mark’s face was still blank, but even so, his hands moved until they rested lightly on Jake’s shoulders.
Forget it’s him, Jake told himself. Focus on the physical. Make him vulnerable.
With a sigh of anticipation, he pressed his face against the front of Mark’s pants, feeling the thick shaft of his tumescent dick underneath the cloth. The standing man’s hips shifted and Jake reached behind him to cup his ass cheeks. He grinned with triumph at Mark’s quiet moan, knowing his smile would remain unobserved as his face was buried in Hartner’s crotch. With his teeth, he took hold of the zipper and with some difficulty drew it down until it caught. He left his fondling of Mark’s ass for a moment and quickly unzipped his fly completely, tugging at his jeans until they slid off his hips.
His hands returned to Mark’s butt, palms lightly stroking the smooth skin of his bare ass. With the second involuntary movement of Hartner’s hips, Jake grew braver. His stuck one finger in his mouth, wet it with saliva and an instant later used it to circle the outside of Mark’s hole, teasing it with his fingernail until he could feel the pucker. Mark’s body shuddered and impatiently he tugged off his jeans, allowing his dick to spring free. The shaft stood erect and quivering only inches from Jake’s mouth, as if it were a carrot to tantalize a recalcitrant mule.
Jake was fully aware of the temptation Hartner thought he was offering and grimly decided to turn the tables on him. His tongue darted out and lightly, ever so lightly, he licked the very end of Mark’s dick, the tip of his tongue barely brushing the slit with a feather’s tickling touch. Hartner shuddered and his hands gripped Jake’s naked shoulders, his fingers digging in tightly enough to leave bruises. He pulled, urging Jake’s mouth closer but Jake used his own hands on Mark’s hips to maintain the distance between them. Again his mouth moved in for the attack; this time a single lick to the particularly sensitive gather of skin underneath the head, just where it met the shaft. Hartner moaned.
As if from a distance, Jake heard Mario’s grunts of protest through his gag, even louder than the occasional whimpers escaping from behind the gag. It couldn’t be pleasant for him, watching Jake make it with the devil who was torturing him. What terrified thoughts must be going through the Greek youth’s mind? He might even begin to suspect that Jake and Mark were in league together, that last night had been nothing but a setup for the sick and twisted sexual torture he was now being forced to endure.
Whatever Mario might be thinking, Jake could not afford to worry about it now if he was to have any chance of saving him. He steeled himself against any misery he might be causing the man whom he was now certain he could actually come to love, and fixed his attention on his seduction of the fiend. There would be plenty of time to apologize to Mario later, to explain, provided they both made it through this ordeal alive.
Encouraged by Hartner’s continued moans, Jake kissed his groin where his penis emerged from his body. He dallied there, drawing the silky hairs of Mark’s crotch into his mouth, wetting them with his lips, tugging gently, kissing, nibbling. He licked the hairless skin above Mark’s groin and below his navel like he was enjoying an ice cream cone, tracing the fine veins
of his lower stomach with his tongue. And, while he licked, he moved one hand to Hartner’s balls – suppressing the urge to close his fist and crush them as retribution for what was being done to Mario – and fondled them, tugging and stroking, teasing the hairs on the underside of first one testicle and then, the other. At the same time, his saliva-drenched finger was busy at Hartner’s butt, probing and teasing until Mark’s hole was so relaxed and ready, Jake slipped his finger past the opening with almost no resistance whatsoever.
Mark gasped and Jake took the opportunity to move further upwards on his body. Above the navel now, he traced the indentations of Hartner’s washboard abdominals with his mouth. He pulled his finger from Mark’s ass and raised his arms, grabbing Mark by the lats as high as he could reach. He clutched the hard muscle for a moment and then, using only the surface of his palms, he swept his hands down the man’s torso to his waist and then retraced his path upwards substituting the very ends of his fingernails to elicit shivers and groans.
In a semi-crouch now, Jake straightened up a bit more. He sucked the skin in the center of Mark’s chest while he teased the man’s nipples, circling the aureoles with his fingers, going around and around, never touching the buds until, finally, he pinched the very tips of both, hard, and almost instantly released.
Hartner gasped at the sensation and, hoping he was not moving too fast, Jake rose and closed his mouth on Mark’s slightly open one, thrusting his tongue deeply inside. If he were lucky, Hartner would think he had been overcome with arousal at his nudity and would fail to notice that now standing upright, Jake’s greater height might provide him with an advantage.
They kissed, long and deeply. Mark wrapped his arms around Jake’s body and pulled him closer. When they broke the clinch, Hartner moved his lips down the side of Jake’s throat and began sucking and licking at his hairy chest. From their new position, with Hartner’s head below his line of sight, Jake had a clear view of Mario.
His heart wrenched. He could not help but mourn that the boy had been an involuntary witness to everything that had happened without knowing the details behind it. Even though he’d undoubtedly heard the angry words between them of a few moments earlier, Mario was in excruciating pain and Jake did not expect he fully understood what had been going on. He had no way of knowing Jake had not become Mark’s willing lover while he was forced to watch.
Even as these thoughts went through his mind, Jake saw Mario’s body suddenly tense even further and his eyes bulged, looking like they would explode from their sockets. His feet scrabbled for purchase and when he screamed again, the hoarse sound was evidence that his throat was raw. The wooden roof underneath him had finally splintered and started to crack. As Jake watched in horror, he saw his lover’s body sag an inch further down onto the stake.
Jake panicked for an instant before slamming down his control. He saw Mario’s eyes flutter and he was close enough to have to forcibly restrain a wince of compassion. Jake knew the boy was about to pass out. If he did, and if Jake did not do something immediately to save him, his insides would be ripped open. Not only would his agony be unthinkable, he would also bleed to death very quickly.
Mario’s muscles, already taxed to the extreme, grew suddenly slack. His body began to sag as Jake watched in helpless horror and frustration as his weight shifted to the side.
Stay standing! he pled silently. Please, please, don’t fall!
He must do something – and he had only moments to figure out what.
Hartner dropped to his knees. Without preamble, he took Jake’s manhood into his mouth, deep-throating it from the start. In spite of himself, the mortician felt a frisson of delight coursing through his body, originating where Mark was showing off his talents. He glanced down at the honey-blond head bobbing back and forth. He cast his eyes about the barn, searching for something within reach that he could use as a cudgel. He could slam it into the side of Hartner’s skull but if the blow job continued , Jake would be able to do Mario little good if his own dick had been bitten off by Hartner’s involuntarily clenched teeth. Thinking quickly, he gripped Mark’s shoulders and pushed back, interrupting the fellatio,
“Wait!” He was surprised at how breathless he sounded. “Too quick. I’ll come too quick!”
Mark’s expression was a smug knowingness. He stood to face Jake and, bare chest to bare chest, he whispered to him, “I knew I could make you want me.” For an instant, before it was banished, his eyes filled with something that Jake could have sworn was regret, if only he didn’t think Hartner was incapable of such a tender emotion.
“Even though you saw what I can do, even after I killed the old broad, even with your boyfriend tortured like a fish on a hook, I knew I could still make you want me! Thinking with your dick,” Hartner continued crooning. “You’re not so pure of heart after all, are you? And now, much as I would love to finish this little affair we started...”
His face lit with malicious glee.
“It’s time for you to die.”
The knife appeared as if from out of nowhere.
Given that Mark’s pants were halfway down his calves and he was shirtless, Jake could not imagine where it had come from or how Hartner had kept him from seeing it. If he had known it was there, he would have been tempted to try to wrestle it away, even against his better judgment and knowing he could not triumph against Hartner’s supernatural strength. As it was, he twisted away just in time and Hartner’s thrust slipped underneath his right arm, slicing a thin gash across his ribs without causing any major damage.
Hartner threw back his head and laughed. “Slippery, aren’t you?” He tossed the weapon from hand to hand like some street hoodlum. The blade was oddly curved and, Jake noticed, rusty though the edge had been recently sharpened.
“While I would love nothing more than to make your exit from this world as slow and as painful as possible...”
Mark’s hand flashed out and Jake felt a sudden sting on the left side of his chest. His hand instinctively went to the wound and he held it up, covered in blood. Dumbstruck, not quite able to believe he’d been stabbed, he glanced to his chest and saw a shallow slash bleeding profusely.
“I think it might be safer – for me, at least – if we made this quick.”
Another flurry of movement and Jake felt a searing heat on his right biceps. Hartner moved again, and by sheer instinct, Jake stepped into the thrust, turning and slamming his back into Hartner’s chest while trapping his outstretched arm under his own.
“Not bad,” Mark grunted.
Jake could feel Hartner’s chest pressed against his back, their naked skins slippery with their exertion. He started with mingled horror and disgust when he realized Hartner’s dick was still rock solid and was pressing against his tailbone. Mark’s thought patterns seemed to mirror his own.
“Awww, don’t tell me you still want me to fuck you, boy! Even after all of this.” To illustrate, he pumped his hips in a crude parody of intercourse. “So, what now? You gonna try to flip me over your shoulder? Pry the knife away?”
Jake grabbed the knife hand with both of his own and felt Hartner’s grip on it tighten. He forced his arm more tightly against his side so his opponent could not free himself and leaned forward to stretch Mark’s arm as much as he could, denying him any leverage.
An instant later, he yelled as fire seemed to sear his belly and groin. He’d forgotten about Hartner’s other hand and the bastard had taken advantage of his lapse by digging his fingernails into Jake’s stomach and raking the skin as deeply as he could. Jake twisted his body further, trying to pull Mark’s trapped arm from its socket, but unfortunately, it brought his groin into easy reach of Hartner’s free hand. Jake screamed when Hartner grabbed his balls and squeezed. The pain radiated up through his groin and settled in the pit of his stomach and he feared he was going to vomit. Hartner twisted the sack and Jake roared in agony. He clenched his stomach muscles against the sear and forced himself to take a step forward, dragging Hartner along w
ith him.
“I will...” Mark grunted, squeezing tighter. “Rip them off, asshole!”
Jake screamed anew. Mark was using his nails again, digging them into the skin as he pulled and twisted Jake’s balls, trying to squash them into jelly. The young mortician felt no shame in shrieking while his testicles were being pulped. He took another step forward though his knees had gone weak and rubbery, determined to bear the agony for a few seconds more. Jake had a goal in mind. By itself, it wouldn’t save Mario, but it might reduce the pain enough so the dark-skinned young man could muster enough strength survive a little longer. If he could just concentrate through the pain, maybe he could reach up and...
“Let’s see how tough you are,” Hartner whispered, pressing his face into the back of Jake’s neck. His hand moved and, like talons, his nails raked the shaft of Jake’s dick, slicing into the soft skin of the head. “Maybe I’ll just tear it out by the root.”
Jake felt Hartner grab his cock and pull. For an instant, he thought his entire dick would just pop out of his body from the pressure. But he’d reached his goal and with a scream of mingled triumph and pain, he manipulated Hartner’s trapped hand – the one holding the knife – into position and with a mighty heave, sliced the blade into rope holding the weight underneath Mario’s balls, partially severing it.
Hartner realized what was going on immediately. “You clever son of a...” His fingers loosened and the knife slipped free. At the same time, he tugged harder on Jake’s dick.
Doing his best to ignore the pain, Jake managed to catch the knife as it fell and with two more swipes, the rope parted. At the same time, there was a high whine from the back of the Greek boy’s throat. His legs simply gave out and with no further sound, his head fell forward and he slumped down onto the stake, fully impaled.