by Jake Mactire
“God damn, Jeff, you are hung like a horse.” He reached out and began to fondle my cock and then began rubbing my balls. His touch made my skin crawl. I stared at him balefully, forcing myself not to show the disgust I felt.
“Big balls, too. When I was watching you and Mike, I thought you were hung, but it was hard to see in the dark, and you always had your cock up his pretty little ass.”
“When you were watching me and Mike?” He kept rubbing my cock and balls. I felt more violated by his saying he’d watched me and Mike make love than I did by his touching me.
“Yeah. When I was staying at your ranch, I’d sneak up every night and very slowly and quietly crack your door open and watch you two fuck. Hell, you’re both hot, buffed, and hung, so it was better than a porn movie.” He giggled again. “Yeah, if looks could kill, I would be so dead now. But it’s you who’ll be dead.” He dropped my cock and went over to the other side of the little table in front of me. There were several boxes there. He pulled out a pair of hedge clippers. He walked back over and took my cock in one hand and used the other to rub the clippers against it. “How about we take this off, an inch a day?” He gently stroked my cock, giggling and watching me for any sign of fear. I swallowed the bile that rose in my throat and continued to glare at him. He set the hedge clippers down on the table. He walked over to the box and pulled out a pair of pliers. He set them on the table also and looked at me, giggling. He repeated that performance with several knives, a cane, a belt, and a chain. Finally he brought out a claw hammer, some spike nails, and a welding torch. By this time, he was laughing. “Look at all these fun things for us to play with!” He actually clapped his hands in glee.
“AJ, you are sure as hell one twisted and fucked-up little maggot.” He stepped toward me and drew back his arm. I tensed my abdominal muscles, but the punch hit me square in the nose. He followed it with several more. I felt my nose break. I shook my head, trying to clear it, and then that foul chemical reeking cloth was pushed in my face, and blackness closed in.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I AWOKE disoriented. I think it was the pain in my head which brought me back to consciousness. I looked around, and the blurry scenes surrounding me coalesced into something visible. I was still a captive of AJ, the West Coast Cutter. My heart began to race when I realized the situation I was in. Sometime, somehow, he would have to let his guard down for me to be able to get loose. I realized slowly that I was in a different position. I was no longer hanging by my wrists from a hook in the ceiling. Now I was spread-eagle over a saw horse. My wrists were secured to two legs on one side and my ankles to the two legs on the other side.
“Are you awake again, Jeffy?” The sound of Mike’s nickname for me was obscene coming from him. I heard movement off to the side, and he stepped into view. He was naked, except for a pair of motorcycle boots. He held a belt in his hands. He walked around me, giggling as he went. I did my best to just glare at him through the film of pain and nausea. He stepped up behind me and began rubbing my ass cheeks, occasionally gently fingering my hole. The gentleness of his touch, coupled with the depravity of his actions, made me want to vomit.
“You’re going to get fucked, Jeff. That’s right, big, tough, top, redneck stud is going to take it up the ass. It’s probably your first time to get fucked. Dumb fuckin’ hick, you’re going to take it up the ass, and you’ll scream.” He walked in front of me. His dick was half hard.
“You’re wrong on both counts, tiny.”
“Tiny? What in the hell are you babbling about?”
“Your dick. That tiny little thing is soooo cute.” I put as much sarcasm in my voice as I could muster. He swung the belt and it hit my shoulders. It hurt like hell, and I knew it made a welt.
“You’re going to beg me to fuck you, Jeff, just to stop the whippin’, but my dick is gonna hurt when I ram it in. The first time always hurts.” He giggled. The giggles and the hysterical laughs actually scared me more than just about anything else.
“It won’t be the first time, pin dick. Mike’s my partner, and he’s already been there. Number two, I’m not even sure if I’m gonna be able to feel that tiny little dick of yours. Is that why you’re such a twisted fuck? That tiny dick gives you a complex? Or is it your pedophile old man thought you were a little girl, since that little thingy of yours is so hard to see?” Fury crossed his face, and he walked behind me. The belt began to fall repeatedly on my ass and back. He was hitting me with the buckle. On the third or fourth stroke, he made sure the belt grazed my balls, hanging between my legs. I couldn’t help it. I yelped and writhed as much as I could, given the restraints.
“That’s it, Jeff. Holler like that again. You have no idea how much that turns me on. I am going to break you.” I clenched my jaw, trying to prevent giving him any pleasure. He finally stopped whipping me and walked around and stood in front of me. He was now hard.
“Okay, Jeffy, open up. You’re going to suck my cock, you fuckin’, asshole hick. I know you can’t breathe too well through that broken nose, so I’m going to see if I can ram my dick so far down your throat, you won’t be able to breathe. We’ll see how small it is then.”
An idea occurred to me. I pulled my head up and opened up my mouth. Unfortunately my immediately giving in was really out of character, and he picked up on it.
“Why so accommodating all of a sudden, asswipe?”
“I want to suck your dick, AJ. You’re really a grower, and you got me turned on. Let me suck it.” He looked at me suspiciously.
“Watching you and Mike fuck, night after night, I know you’re not much of a cocksucker. He just went down on you or you fucked him.”
“C’mon, AJ, you got a real nice cock, just a taste, please? I’ll beg for it, if that’s what you want. Please let me suck it, please?” All of a sudden, understanding and then fury crossed his face. He slapped me across the face. Then he kicked me again, targeting my face, making my head swim, and my nose hurt more than I would have thought was possible.
“You filthy hick. You were going to bite my cock. You think that would have saved your miserable life?”
“Maybe, maybe not, but you’d still be dickless and bleeding to death.”
“This is no fun! You’re not any fun. No fun at all.” He began screaming it out. He moved behind me and the strap began to fall. He was making sure to graze my balls every time he laid the strap on. That, coupled with the pain in my nose and the lingering effects of the chemical he’d used to knock me out, made me dizzy. Nausea overtook me, and I vomited on the floor in front of me. I heard his crazy laughter as the blackness swarmed up and overwhelmed me.
I WOKE up with my wrists tied together with duct tape, and I was hanging by them from the hook in the ceiling again. My ankles were duct taped together this time. The little table, with its assorted array of instruments, was in front of me. I looked down at several knives, an ice pick, a claw hammer, and a baseball bat, a pair of hedge clippers, and pliers. A welding torch was there also. I saw AJ come around from the corner of my eye. He was still naked, save for his boots, and now he had a leather policeman’s type cap on.
“Good mornin’, pin dick. That leather make up for your tiny dick and make you feel like a man?” He just looked at me. The expression on his face caused chills to run up and down my spine. His eyes were cold and dead, devoid of any expression. I felt as if I was being stared at by some poisonous and predatory lizard. I didn’t know what was more frightening, the look of a predator, or the maniacal laugh. Those things seemed to show just how emotionless and twisted he was. It seemed no matter what he’d do, he could think up worse.
“See these things here on the table? We’re going to have so much fun with these things. This here is the most interesting.” He picked up the blowtorch. “This is used for cauterization. See, Jeffy, sometimes these other instruments cause a lot of bleeding.” He rubbed a hatchet almost lovingly as he spoke. “If you bleed too much, it might cause our fun and games to end way too soon, and we
can’t have that, can we?” He giggled that maddening giggle again.
“We want a nice long time to play together. I’m even going to take some pictures to commemorate it with. I have a few of you passed out and hanging there in just your underwear. Now let’s get some of the cuts where I had to cut your long johns off. I’ll get some pictures of your back and ass. They’re all red and swollen. There’s even a fair amount of blood.” He giggled louder and longer this time. “Did you know those big balls of yours are all swollen too, Jeff? I’ve got to get a picture of that and your broken nose. I’ve given you two black eyes!” I could hear him working himself up. He began breathing harder, and I realized he was jerking off, looking at the welts and wounds on my back and ass. I heard him moan a few times, and then he came around facing me. His hand was covered with cum. He smeared it on my face.
“We have to have you all ready for the camera!” He moved around me with a digital camera, taking pictures and laughing as he went. Finally he came around and stuck the viewer of the camera in my face. As he paged through the pictures, I noticed that, even though I looked like sheer hell, I still had an angry look on my face. He was right. If looks could kill, he’d be dead. He finally backed off and walked over to the table. He picked up the blowtorch. My chest seemed to contract, as if there were bands around it, making it impossible for me to draw a breath. He held up the torch.
“Remember, cauterization.” He laughed and set it down and walked behind me. I heard a door close behind him and his steps moving away. Round two was going to be psychological.
I shook my head to clear it a bit. I reckoned he’d leave me here a while to try and freak me out, looking at the stuff he’d left on the table. It hurt my head to shake it, but I had to think straight.
I looked up at my hands. They were bound together with duct tape around my wrists, with the duct tape forming a primitive but very effective pair of handcuffs. I wiggled my fingers. I could move them, and best of all there was some feeling in them. My feet barely scraped the floor. I tried swinging on the hook, but the duct tape was stuck fast to it. It just made my shoulders hurt like hell. I glanced at the table in front of me. A wave of panic began to rise, deep in my gut, thinking of what AJ could do with the knives and clippers and other things.
Then it hit me, knives. Knives cut duct tape. I pulled my legs up. AJ had hit me several times in the abs, so it hurt like hell as I used those muscles to lift my legs so they were sticking out in front of me, as if I were sitting. I stretched them out and put them on the table, one foot on each side of a hunting knife with what looked like a six-inch blade. I was able to move my feet a bit, since it was my ankles that were duct taped. I moved my feet together and was able to scoop up the knife between them. I began to lift my feet up and raise my legs up. The move I was trying was something I’d seen a gymnast do on the rings, in the Olympics. If I could just get my feet up to my hands, I’d be set.
I pulled up and tried to maneuver around so my feet, with the knife pressed between them, came close to my hands. My abdominal muscles were screaming in protest. I ignored the burn. As I began to draw my feet back toward my hands, the knife seemed to be sliding from between my feet. The weight of the blade was causing it to slide down. I jerked my feet to try to keep from dropping the knife. The jerk in motion only made the knife fall. It nicked my upper belly on the way down. I tried not to pay attention to the new pain in my belly. The cut was small and wasn’t bleeding too much. I looked down and around for the knife. Just my luck, it had dropped out of reach.
I looked at the table again. There was another knife. This one seemed to be a chef’s knife, with a serrated edge. I began another effort to grab the knife with my feet.
With this effort, I took my time. I was reasonably certain AJ was in no real hurry to start the next round of torture. He got off on his victims being afraid. I reckoned he thought the longer he left me alone, the more I would think of what he could do with the stuff he left on the table. I was gonna take my time and get the knife balanced and grasped between my feet as well as possible. I managed to slide the knife so my feet were grasping it by the blade. The blade was about eight inches long and was a tapered, chef’s-type instrument. I ended up knocking it against one foot or another in my efforts to get as good a grip on it as possible. I knew the blade was pretty dull, as I wasn’t getting cut. At that moment, I didn’t care how sharp it was or wasn’t, as long as it would cut duct tape.
I began the process of pulling my feet up. I tried to use my arms to help pull up. I got the knife up to about chest level when my abdominal muscles began to burn. I could feel them tensing. I was about to get a cramp! I pulled up as quickly as I could while still keeping the movement smooth. I tried to ignore the cramping, but I knew I wouldn’t get the knife much higher. I continued to struggle, and with one push the knife handle was in front of my face. I opened my mouth and pushed forward. I bit down hard on the knife handle. I had it in my mouth! I was able to let my legs drop. The cramp was stretched out, just by my hanging there. I could feel drool running out of my mouth. I was biting so hard on the wood handle of the knife, I was afraid I would crack a tooth. There was no way in hell though, I was gonna relax. I was not going to lose the knife.
I could feel blood running down my back, ass, legs and sides. AJ wasn’t kidding about there being a fair amount of blood. He must have used the cane when I was unconscious. The cuts where he cut off my longhandles went from my wrists up my arms and then down my sides, hips, and legs, stopping at the ankles. The physical motion of bringing my feet up to face level had caused those cuts to open up again.
As I thought about the next step of getting the knife to my hands, I realized I needed to do it fairly quickly. It was difficult to breathe through my broken and swollen nose, and the knife handle was not allowing me to breathe deeply. I was breathing more heavily, my body telling me it needed just a bit more oxygen. I began a pull-up type motion. Normally, this would be no problem for me whatsoever. Mike and I did shoulder presses and pull downs as well as chin-ups, frequently, so I was confident of my ability to do pull-ups, under normal conditions.
I put any thoughts of failure out of my mind and concentrated on the simple action of doing a chin-up in one smooth and easy motion. Finally I got my face up to the same level as my hands. I was having quite a bit of trouble breathing now and was beginning to feel lightheaded. I leaned my head back a bit, putting the knife up above my hands. I then turned my neck a bit to the left, causing the blade to fall against the duct tape. I slowly leaned back, letting the handle slide out of my mouth. I moved my fingers down. I was able to get my hand to clasp the knife handle, using my fingers and mouth. Holding the knife as tightly as I could, I let myself hang down once again and sucked deep mouthfuls of air.
I reckoned I was two-thirds of the way there, if getting the knife to my mouth was one-third, and then getting it in my hand was the second third, now to cut the duct tape.
I positioned the knife and began to saw the duct tape. As I’d noticed before, the knife was very dull, and the duct tape was in several layers. I kept sawing in the limited range of motion I had available. All of a sudden, I got a sharp pain in the fleshy part of the palm of the hand which didn’t have the knife, and in my arm. I looked up. I was cutting into my other hand and arm. I was also cutting into the duct tape. I gritted my teeth and continued sawing. I was hoping that the duct tape would rip from my weight before I cut myself too deeply. After what seemed like an eternity of slow, ineffectual sawing with the knife, I heard a ripping sound, and I was falling. I landed on the cold, dirty floor. I was free!
I reckoned it was in my best interest to get the hell outta there as soon as possible. I didn’t know how quickly I was gonna be able to move, as I was really lightheaded. I cut the duct tape on my ankles and slowly stood up. Balancing myself against the table, I realized I was really thirsty, and part of the lightheadedness could be from dehydration.
I glanced around the room, and miracle of miracles, I sa
w several bottles of water and a box of chocolate bars on a table next to a door. I was sure that AJ was planning to eat and drink in front of me as part of the torture, when I was really hungry and thirsty. I staggered over and opened a bottle of water. I drank heavily and then wolfed a chocolate bar. I started to feel a bit better almost immediately. My head still hurt like a mother, but the dizziness was going away.
I stopped and listened, but couldn’t hear any noise from the rest of the house. AJ must have left. I drank some more water and ate another candy bar. I looked around and saw my clothes in a corner, where he had thrown them. The underwear I had been wearing was cut to shreds. I pulled on my socks and started to pull on my jeans. My swollen testicles screamed in agony when I tried to pull the jeans up around them. It seems my ass was so swollen I couldn’t get my jeans on over that either. I pulled on my boots and then my shirt. It was a thermal Henley and hurt my back like hell. I pulled my coat on over that and threw on my cowboy hat. I went back over to the table and picked up the hatchet and then the hunting knife off the floor. It was time to get the hell outta Dodge!