Flashpoint

Part II

Warning from the author,

This story contains elements of extreme violence up to and including murder.

This is not a nice fuzzy story. I am just playing around trying to write a slasher type,

mystery. If you find this kind of stuff offensive, please think before reading it. Not

a mad maniac, just working with a new type of writing element. – Please Enjoy

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It had been a month since the murders had started, and one would still trickle in from time to time. The news had shocked that area like an earthquake, that sort of thing just did not happen here. So, everyone had thought it would seem. Now it was and people were scared, even people that were not the target demographic. About seventy-five miles north of there, a very much alive Conner Lewis read through the papers again about the murders taking place in Nashville. It had to be him, it sounded like him, face it; it was fucking him that was doing it. Conner Lewis seemed to be one of those the universe had it out for. He had been born to an abusive father who was a drunk, and his bigger brother had tried to comfort him as much as possible, by sneaking into his room at night for a blowjob, or to fuck him. He had managed to finally escape that place right into the waiting and opportunistic arms of, Mr. X. He had had one weapon to fight with, his rich aunt Violet who lived in Mississippi.  Since his mom and dad had died in a plane crash, she was about the only family he had left. She was enough.

She had known him long enough to be able to tell something was terribly wrong, but the young man just never offered it. They were currently on the phone talking, which they did often.

She asked, “You are an adult now Conner, but it makes me love or worry about you one bit less. Is something wrong?”

He had wanted for so long to just tell anyone, but it was so damned, well hard. He had come clean about being gay, what had happened to him when he was a young man. What was happening to him now.

Aunt Violet was a firestorm of conventional wisdom, so after some talk, she had agreed to hire one of those high brow security firms to relocate her nephew and just let the bum think he was dead. He would be if he didn’t get the hell away from him. As far as you being gay, as I have always said about that, who gives a shit? I was at your mother’s side when you came into this world, because your deadbeat dad was out someplace into no good. I taught you how to read at a very young age if you can recall? I knew you were gay by the time you were 14, but that to me is a person’s own business.”

So, they had moved him and sent a team in to look like police to talk to, well him, and tell him Conner was gone. But now, with what was happening in Nashville, how could he not do something? He would have to think some on it.

 

Marty Higgins was a 28-year-old networking technician, and this was not typical for him, but he had always thought about it. So, he had finally decided to do it, he had downloaded master-finder, which was an app on many phone platforms that functioned like all the rest of those programs that people use for hookups. He had already created his account and his handle was, ‘Goodboy001.’ He had been talking to this strange guy that had sent him a shot of his dick and move over. The guy was strangely seductive as they talked. He sounded like he was whispering, he said, it was laryngitis.” His handle was strangler, and that was a little off putting.

Mr. X asked, “So, why don’t you meet me at the Holiday Inn that is about an eight-minute drive from your house. It could be, interesting. Since you have agreed to be submissive, I have a couple of conditions.”

Marty said, “Which would be?”

The mad whisperer said, “Only wear some cargo shorts and a shirt, no underwear, or socks. You must agree to let me use restraints and leave your cell phone at your home. As in do not put it in your car, then drive and park in the parking garage across the highway and walk over through the side entrance. Go in and rent room 303 I will be along shortly.”

“On my way,” he got up and set off. To some people, those certain kinds of asks might make one nervous about this meeting. It had been a bit since Marty had and well, common sense was not ruling the day. He left he cellphone at home, drove down to the garage found a place and parked. He had to double back to reach the hotel, he went in and asked for room 303. No one had noticed the big guy who had come in and had entered the side stair well. Later cameras would be useless as well, it was overcast, and he had on a jacket with the hood up on it. He moved quickly for a big man and was up the stairs and disappeared.

Marty climbed the stairs and went down to room 303 and as he went to enter, a big and powerful hand grabbed his right shoulder. A voice whispered down to him, “Hey Marty, go on inside now.”

He did and the big man followed him, Marty turned to look at him, he was wearing a plain black mask. All that you could see was his eyes and little areas surrounding them. Marty Higgins thought, well either anonymity or he just likes masks. Mr. X. had a large shopping bag with him. He kind of rasped as he said, “Brought you something, would you like to see it?”

The sub said, “Sure sir, I would love to.”

Mr. X put the bag down and took a big sized roll of shrink wrap out of it. It would have been too unwieldy for most, but he was able to handle it easy.

Marty, who was not unused to the occasional set of handcuffs, of a tie or a shoestring or the like, was not stranger to restraint. This would be a first, so he decided to be playful. The huge Mr. X was wearing a dark jogging suit and he had a bulge that was quite noticeable. The Sub got down on his knees and started to mouth the bulge on the outside of the jogging pants. “It is great, thank you sir.”

The masked man looked down at him impassively for a moment as he worked at what he was doing. He was even thanking him for the shrink wrap.

Finally, Mr. X whispered, “Stand up and take all your clothes off.”

The smaller guy stood up and removed his shoes, then started taking off the rest. When was bare, Mr. X walked him over to the center of the room and pulled a piece off the roll of shrink wrap.

He took an extension of it and stuck it on the sub’s abdomen, “Hold that and keep if there, and draw your arms and legs in. Round and round like a spider Mr. X went around Marty. Soon he was shrink wrapped from his shoulders to his feet. Mr. X did not spare any either, then when he was done, he took some longer pieces and cut them in half with a pocketknife and stuck them on the wooden part of the bed. He then put the wrap down, took his clothes off and came over to the standing sub. He made an opening so he could easily access his ass. Came around to the front, same for the genitals, then he scooped his sub up and laid him down so his head was halfway down the bed. He got on top of him, and shoved his dick in his mouth and began to aggressively mouthfuck him.

This caused the guy on the bottom to begin periodically gagging, it did not make Mr. X slow down any, it may have made him go faster. He reached down. Mr. X got a shot down his spine as an incredible ideal occurred to him. Because of this he knew how he would absorb his next chosen victim’s life energy. That is what he was doing, other people could not see what he could, and it was all around them. He would do it to this one, but it would not be hardly as effective. He did this for a while, and it was feeling good, so he rolled him around and turned around and decided to go in the other side as well. He got into place, lubed up, and even trying to ram it in there fast, as big as he was it just took a little work for most people. He finally rammed it home and pounded the sub-Marty with his powerful body like there was no tomorrow. A bit of this got Marty’s prostate excited and he could feel himself going inside the sweaty hot plastic.

He said, “Oh fuck, that feels good.”

Just a minute later, Mr. X whispered, “Yeah, fuck.” As he shot inside of the sub time and again. He finished what he was doing and went for about another minute. With that he pulled out of the sub and no taunting, or threats or any of that. He just took a piece of the plastic he had on the wooden part of the bed and wrapped it tightly around Marty’s face and head and made sure it sealed good. He added several more till he was good and airtight, and he went to the bathroom to clean himself up. He took his time as there was no reason to hurry. That is where some maid would find Marty, and he will have struck three times. He come back into the room and the wrapped up, and terrified Marty was still shifting inside the plastic, but it would not give. Mr. X watched this from his mask, he was still naked and was fully hard again and began to jerk himself. Finally, Marty Higgins mercifully passed out and all was still. Mr. X shot some more cum over onto the plastic. He waited around about five more minutes and then he pulled his jacket on and fixed a funky looking Covid mask to cover most of the mask.

He could feel himself getting stronger, with each one.  He left the room, and someone wrapped in shrink wrap on the bed. He thought to himself as he walked away, most likely nothing to worry about. No one was going to care about that faggot assed trash anyway. He disappeared into the night.

 

Someone that cared a great deal about that faggot assed trashhim, or anyone for that Goddamned fact when it comes to awful shit like this was one Chief Inspector Henry Richards. Not that it particularly mattered but he was gay, he was married had been since they could. It would not have mattered to the Inspector, he treated all people the same way, and he did the best work he could do. Speaking of which, he was heading into his office now, to talk to a young man. They might have caught a break, and a young man had called in, by the name of, Conner Lewis, and it sounded promising. He came in and sat down opposite the handsome young man.

“I am First Detective Henry Richards, I believed we spoke on the phone?”

The young man looked nervous, “That is right detective, my name is Conner, Conner Lewis. I lived here since I was first born, but now I live elsewhere. I was concerned about something but wonder if I might ask you a couple of questions? If that would not be too strange.”

Henry said, “Go right ahead.”

“First is I am going to be implying something about someone that has much more weight than me. Many people of the badge wearing persuasion might think we are all terrible or something.”

“Who do I think is terrible?”

“Gay people like me, sir.”

“Well, I can tell you that our department does not give a great splotch of shit what you are. Our job is to “Serve and Protect”, all. You are looking at one that believes that.”

Henry looked a bit uncomfortable, “It is just odd because I have never talked to anyone but a therapist about this. The people that have been getting killed lately, it has been mostly some sort of oxygen deprivation. You will have had instances where someone that strangles you from behind, with a thing rope or a wire. They would be extremely physically powerful, and probably giving you fits with forensic evidence. Does any of that sound familiar?”

Now Henry was very interested, “Any other details, so I am convinced.”

Conner said, “Well if it were the guy I would peg, I would say metal handcuffs are quite common as well.

Henry got on his phone and rang his partner, Chuck, “Hey get in here.”

In a moment his partner, Chuck Waller came in and took a corner seat.

Henry went, “How do you seem to know all of that?”

Conner said, “Because I used to date him, and he is crazy as a shithouse rat. I read about the ways, and he likes that stuff a whole lot. I always knew he would end up killing someone, just did not know how to stop him.

Chuck said, “I tell you how to stop him ding a ling, you call us, and we stop him.”

Conner said, “Okay then, does the name Vincent Miller, as in the one that owns that big computer chip factory in town. His damn family probably owns most of the town.”

Henry said, “Ah that big motherfucker, okay, why would you think this?

Conner had begun to sweat and look nervous, “Look, guys, you always find this stuff out anyway, so I am just going to tell you the way it was. When I first turned 18, staying at home was not an option for me. Neither was school, but the suave Vincent Miller, who had taken a notice of me, because I walked by one of his offices every day. Well, he has a job for me, but it comes with a condition, that is the thing about him, if you manage to survive him long enough, it is conditional upon his demands. Well, the ideal was, you see I become his person that takes care of his house I don’t go hungry. Well, I wanted to start school and he decided, and I am going to try and quote it out for you so you will understand the kind of mind you are dealing with.”

The young man had to get up and stretch for a second, “I remember him saying something to the effect, that since he had been so good to me and since I was nothing more than subhuman white trash anyway. Since he did, I could to, from now on I would service him as he desired. Hum? What a charmer? That had not been good enough once he had thought about it, I was just his to do with as he decided to. So, if I wanted to keep eating that meant I had to well experience the wonderful Vincent Miller.”

Henry said, “Not to be indelicate, but he wanted you to put out?”

Conner said, “It is a bit more than that I am afraid, he believes himself to be a homosexual because he is functional with men. He is a criminally insane sociopath that just likes to get their dicks sucked before they kill you in some way.”

Detective Henry Richards said, “Encapsulate it for me, tell me why I should think that is anything more than someone with homosexual tendencies getting the upper hand on someone else that does?”

Conner said, “Well before some people my aunt hired faked my death, no kidding, have the fake death certificate. He treated me in ways that I am not going to go into detail with you. Do you know that the first thing I heard every morning for nearly two years from the person I was serving, that at some point they were going to kill me. Then his fantastic strangle games for everyone’s amusement, unless maybe you are the one being strangled. He used to do something he called strangling for sleep deprivation; it is as simple as it sounds. He would lay there beside you on the bed, and you would be handcuffed. He would have a thin rope or a cord or the like wrapped around your throat, and he would strangle you for very short periods all night long. He eventually got tired of doing that so found a way of rigging a sex machine to do it to you all night as he slept.”

He looked up and the detectives were looking at him, Henry said, “Young man, you may have just gotten my interest, Chuck see what we have on that big rich fucker? And let’s see about getting some surveillance on him, unmarked and use some good fucking people.

 

The police were moving, but it would not be fast enough for Ritchey Jordan, across town at a sex club called, ‘The Smut-Factory’. He had lost a bet and was having to man the glory hole tonight which was kept back behind the men’s bathrooms. He figured it would be a slow night, he could not see the big, masked man had walked up to the other side of his booth. It only lit up when in use from the outside. He walked up to the gloryhole opening, which was just perfect for his height, they had several. He pulled his dick out and removed two vials. One was his standard nontoxic flavored lube he used as a matter of course and he spread a bit of this over his big hard 9 incher.  The other was a spray bottle a chemist friend of his had given him, it was a designer opioid that would not diffuse across the skin in this formulation but would cross mucus membranes and of course the digestive tract would absorb it rapidly. After applying the flavored lube, he put two sprays towards the head of his dick. This stuff was supposed to be even more potent than Fentanyl. He slid his big dick through.

Ritchey saw that big, hard, and glistening cock enter and his booth lit up. He was looking through glass, at a big muscled up dude and he was hung like a mule. The guy was in a plain black mask, and you could see he was looking down at where his dick came through the hole. He went over, sat on a stool, and began to take his big head of his cock into his mouth. It tasted like watermelon, it was that flavored stuff, at least he was nice like that. The eyes in the mask staring at him, as he begins to suck on his cock and get his first taste of nirvana. Ritchey had been around a bit, and he was working it hard, and he started to feel exceptionally good. This was fucking alright, and it tasted so good. On the other side of the glass, Mr. X was spraying more of the powerful synthetic opioid on his cock a splotch at a time. His victim was beginning to feel good, and he was already so high he was completely under Mr. X’s control, and he kept occasionally adding a bit for it to run down his cock for him to inadvertently swallow it.

Ritchey was starting to get dizzy and sleepy, but he kept going with Mr. X cheering him on. “Keep sucking on that cock, I know you feel so good. Is it not the best you have ever felt before?”

In a minute he triggered the mechanism and Mr. X began to blast his mouth full of cum, and as he was saying, “Oh fucking-a,” He was spraying a very liberal amount of the stuff on him. Talk about someone getting addicted to your cock. “Suck on it for just a couple of more minutes for me?”

Ritchey continued to work, and Mr. X looked down at his glistening dick with saliva and a designer opioid dripping off it. He had been hit with plenty to do the job. The sick Mr. X was enjoying watching the dramatic effect the drug was having on him. He knew as soon as he left, this little cock sucker would fall asleep and most likely go into respiratory distress and die. He pulled his dick from the glory hole, used some wet wipes to clean it good, put it away and walked off onto the sidewalk.

Back in the booth at the Smut-Factory, Ritchie had fallen asleep and had about 20X the amount of this drug in him than would be lethal. He was a sex worker manning a glory-hole, the police would not even think anything about it. That type overdosed all the time and so it turns. He was feeling good tonight, but not as good as the faggot that he just dosed. He thought to him, ‘Sleep well, till you stop breathing.’ He was whistling some happy tune as he slipped off into the darkness of the night.