The Consequences of Envy

Chapter Seven

‘’Holy crap.’’ I thought.

I stood before the mirror in the locked bedroom, turning in admiration, my fingers hitched in the collar, wondering how being suddenly another man’s sex property could possibly be happening to me.

I had to escape this man. I had to get back to Atlanta, if for no other reason I’d go insane with his convoluted lectures.

''He can’t get away with what he says. I won’t let him!’' I muttered.

I took off the collar and threw it to the floor. I laid down in the bed, in a fetal position, hands grasping my head, tearing my hair.

'Should I first tell the police of my suspicion Stu was murdered? The man did push him in; after Stu declared he couldn’t swim. The fucker did murder him!'

Then, I’d have to tell of the sex with them; for his motive — ‘cause I’m such hot faggot!’; and, that would totally destroy any chance of returning to my friends; since, that’d get out; perhaps even in the news.

‘’Abducted 70 yo boy, Patrick, tells all, of pervert’s sordid sex plot — and how much Patrick enjoyed it!’‘ I said aloud sarcastically.

‘Knowing this guy’s mouth, I’d probably get implicated in the crime as well, or he’d twist some such confession just to get me.’ I thought.

‘He’s no doubt figured even a better explanation. Likely deny he even knew Stu, and knew nothing of the drowning. He’d say Stu and me were together as 'boy friends' when he met me. I’ve already helped him clean up such evidence here — and, watched it burn humping a dildo.

He’d say that I had murdered Stu, if anybody did. That I hid in his van to escape. But surely, people around here would say otherwise. How could Stu not have been seen with him over three years? Stu certainly made an impression on me in just minutes — the ugly bastard.’

''I'm still here, though...''

My mind was racing with this unbearably complex game I found myself. They’d know I was a queer too.

I wouldn't even be able to make any new friends, at least normal friends.

I tried to think of others in my class, or even in the school, who were queer. Only the wimpiest or reclusive came to mind. I’d already taken part, with the guys, in bullying them.

I didn’t think that I could find them fun; even if I came clean about just wanting to fit in with their tormentors, and they accepted me; but, at least I would be among serious students. 

Still, mother would have to teach with all this gossip about me going on; so, her classes would wind up unmanageable with trying to keep order.  I even made her class a hell for her with my conduct this past month. No wonder she's given this guy guardianship. 'Maybe I could find dad, and could live with him.' I wondered.

''Had he become a fag again?'' I went to sleep sobbing.

I awoke with a stinging slap to my ass.

‘’Up and Adam, boy. Put on your collar and come with me.’’ He said.

At the rear door, he hooked a small pad lock in my collar buckle, looped a leather leash with a metal ring into it, and snapped it shut. Then, he led me to the van, sat me in the rear floor and attached the leash to a steel hook, and locked that. He then covered my head with a black leather hood and told me not to mess with it, or he’d hand cuff my hands behind me. ‘As if I would hop out stark naked to make an escape,’ I thought.

''I am to be his dog.'' 

He said we were going to one of his properties nearby, where he and Stu would often go.

‘’I’m beginning your training today; as, I’d trained Stu as well. You’ll eventually understand, or maybe not — but, in the end, you will be a better boy.’’ He said.

We drove for about fifteen minutes, and he made too many turns for me to follow with my head bagged as it was. He eventually stopped; where still blind, he lead me into a building.

He removed the hood and I appeared to be inside a small barn. There were old weathered boards for walls and wide planking, held together with huge rough cut beams and posts of oak.

Within the main area, there was an array of tables. Benches with straps attached, and a plethora of leather garments and whips hanging from the wall, and from those, in the corner I noticed a cage of steel mesh, as for animals, about 6x6x6. Was he going to keep me in that? I wondered.

He produced a jar of lubricant, took a large dollop from it, and fingered it roughly into my anus. With leash in hand he led me to a wooden structure, fashioned in an x; and, he strapped, first my arms, then my legs spread eagle, upright.

''Is this where he kills me?'' 

‘’Right now, this is more for just seeing what I've got.’’ He seemed to answer.

He set up a tripod and began taking pictures with a Hasselblad and flash.

He applied lubricant to my dick so it would glisten in the flash, that he held separately, angling it from the camera — and, he would stoke my dick, finger my ass, or even use dildos, from time to time, to keep my dick hard.

He asked I express various looks; as, pouty, scared, or apprehensive; and, then others as insolent, even teasing and happy. He attached clamps to my nipples and clothes pins around my genitals which caused some pain, where I recoiled and squirmed. He clicked the shutter dozens of times.

‘’Black and white make the best pictures, and thankfully I can develop them myself.’’ he said.

He took me off the cross and took more, on the various tables; and finally, upon the floor ass up, close; till he had used up another of what must have been a half dozen rolls. 

Then he walked me to a filing cabinet, where he opened a drawer and showed me hundreds of glossy 8x10 pictures; where others had posed. It was becoming clear what this man did 'consulting'. He was a pornographer.

He pulled open a drawer withdrew a manilla envelope and he dumped the pictures out. They revealed Stu as a younger, less ugly, boy, in various revealing or sexual poses; yet, with no ass hair, pimples, or smug smile -- They weren't bad.  A few reminded me of my last image of Stu; his terrified expression.

‘’I sent a few to his mom.’’ he said, matter of factly. 

He pulled out a folder with papers and letters. 

''See? This is the contract I signed with her.''

‘’I keep a PO Box in three cities where business can be done anonymously. There are many who pay big money for these too.’’

''You can’t do this to me,’’ I pleaded.

''I’m going to have to get a release contract signed from you, though, before I can sell them to big named magazines; and, there will be a fund that goes to you -- for real.'' He emphasized.

''I’ll keep it listed for your modeling services. It will go toward your education too, minus the cost to me, for your food and other needs.''

‘’Or, you send them to my mom?’’ I bitterly asked.

He went on:

‘’Perhaps Steve might like to see some of your pictures too; to see how you've grown, as well. Maybe we can get him to visit for a session? Or maybe a brother act can be done. That would sell like hotcakes. Your mom could earn some needed money too, that way.'' He opined.

I could only look up to his face in astonishment. So, mother must have told him. She must have always known. She really has given me to this man. She is certainly giving him personal information.

‘’I may need her permission; but having the pictures already done makes that process so much easier; particularly if money is to be made.’’ He innocently concluded. 

He led me to a padded bench, pushed me face down upon it, where my crotch rested at the ledge, and my dick, hardening quickly, pushed against the frame, and back between my thighs when he slid me forward.

He unzipped, and inserted his penis into me. It hurt at first; but the abundant lubricant, fingering, dildos, and previous usage made the entry rather fast. He pumped my ass while taking selfies from cable to camera. He did, as I lay despondent, probably 'pouty' looking, him rocking my body.  I was beyond my capacity for tears; so, at the same time, I immensely enjoyed feeling the man’s large tool slide in and out my greased gaping hole; as, I rested on the cushioned bench. It was even equipped with handles to hold. I came without even touching my dick. 

'Being killed.' I thought.