Sam

They sat in the tack room, the office, the place where Dane had figured out how to be a cowboy, the place where Heck took him in his arms to make him  love a cowboy but now....just two men, never met before and never likely to meet again. They had shaken hands, but it was more like shaking the hand of someone on a reception line. Heck sat where he'd always seated himself until...Dane took over. Sam took the chair, the one Will or whomever helped him learn how to run a ranch after Heck left for Vegas and then left him for another. These two men, only one thing in common but does commonality cease when the thing in common dies?

"Sam, uh, he didn't leave you anything, guess you know that by now. Never changed his will so...his Dad and I are the primary beneficiaries...you want to see it, I got a copy of the will right here."\

He slapped a blue paper covered document on the desk. Sam never even looked at it.

"He was a wealthy man, spect you know that....." There was a silence which indicated either he did or didn't give a shit. He was there because he'd been asked, well, summoned was more like it, by the man whom he wholly blamed for the Death of the man he loved. Com...pletely. 

"I want to be generous..."

"Don't bother...he didn't do generous... he did what he felt like n if that's all or nothin' don't matter two fucks to me. He's dead, well, I guess, he's dead to both of us...We buried him, member? Today?" Heck was trying to hold back the tears that choked him as surely as the hangman's noose. "'N you, shit for brains, caused this whole fuckin' mess. Leave a man by the side of the road, tellin' him, here, take this dude, fuck him, I'll get back to you if an when I feel like it but..fucker, you ain't did feel like it, you got stars in yer eys, all sittin' up there bouncing yer balls and the man who did all this was so excited, 'n I was there, he jumped up and fell fifty feet, broke his neck...just like you'd a hanged him. That's on you cocksucker. Don't tell me he didn't leave me nothin' cuz I never asked fer nothin. He gave me the only thang no man every did an that was his love...you know what Will, an he's a swell feller too, told me? He spent the first days, fuck, months tryin' to keep yer man from killin' himself. You owe a lot to that man, Will, he doesn't hang on and Dane and that Gawd awful truck, fuck...he'd been over some fuckin line n took on a eighteen wheeler. You wan yer man fuckin road kill? Huh, Answer me cocksucker cuz you got a lot a answerin to do."

By now he was standing, full battle pose, waiting for an answer..waiting...waiting.....

"Ah, Fuck." Sam reached over the desk, grabbed Heck and pulled him over, threw him on the floor and dropped down on him, just like a wrestler. Both his arms pinned, and one big knee cap straight up his crotch hit so hard he couldn't scream, he made the sound of the deepest pain the shuddering moan, the fear of what might come next. \

What came next was Sam flipping him on his face, mashed it so maybe he broke his nose, ripped off his pants, slammed his fist into Heck's ass and only waited till he could strip, all the way. Took his fist out replacing it with his diamond hard dick. 

"You like it? Dane did and he could take it, fuck  we'd beat the sperm, outa our nuts then lay back n suck em dry. Hard man, good man, strong man..." Sam spit into the shaved hole, stuck two fingers in plus his cock and went to work. Each down stroke made Heck shudder, deep, his prostate was attacked but the way it was done, no pleasure just the prayer it would be left in...

Sam loved this kind of hard fucking, he and Dane did it all the time once he got Dane strong enough and to the understanding of pain and pleasure. Damn, the two of them could go for hours, blood came out but their cocks, almost ripped off, their nuts so compressed by strong fists it was like the cords tore just to get away from the onslaught. 

Sam got his hand under Heck's head, reversed and smashed it on the floor repeatedly, twisted it round, looked at it, bashed it again. "Okay, pretty boy, lets see that on stage tomorrow...I'd rip yer nuts off but theys other men relying on you so...that just saved yer life."

Sam pumped away until he felt the dark river of heavy sperm, sperm loaded with hate and vengence...flipped Heck, stuck his cock the man's mouth and unloaded. "Guess yer a swallower..."

Up on his knees, he took Heck by his hands, rose up further then dragged him through the office, out the door, through the barn until he was by the hay hook by the big doors outside. Tempted, oh fuck was he tempted, to throw him on the hooks and see what pierced him....instead, he just dropped him and walked away. 

The trail of blood that showed where Heck had been said in the most explicit terms, I am a man who has been not just fucked, not raped, but violated by the man who had every right to do so. He lay there until tears fell down his twisted nose onto the flat ground worn solid by an infinity of horses and men. He tried to rise, couldn't, fell back, waited for help...he knew if Dane were alive, well, what if he were...none of this would have happened. He knew that his penance was his to give, would be painful and last,,,,, that whatever pain he'd been given was a gift, the first of many he supposed. Sam would be around every corner, his hand out, waiting to snatch him by his neck. He tried to rise again, up a bit, rolled on one side, the one that hurt the least. 

It was then he started screaming. Not pain but fear, of the future there, laying on the ground, he knew something a fact so quickly learned he almost missed it. In the gust front of his mind, the horrible wind, the wind that picked men up and dropped them as less than men...he knew what he wanted. The wind told him he had sinned.....

Days later, after the show, Heck patted Ram, got to the dressing room where someone started to peel the layers of heavy make up that concealed the scars, the bruises...even his testicle bag had a deep tissue bruise. No one asked, some knew, some didn't want to know. Bob had stopped speaking to him other than about the show, changes, shit like that. Those who hadn't known, now did, about a day a long time ago, when he sent a man for the person who loved him the most forever to fuck so he could play with someone else. They didn't despise him but...they'd known Dane, the handsome man with the big muscles and the charmingly big smile. Some had memories of him in a barber shop in Texas trying to figure out how to do things that people would like. It was very quiet backstage. Now that the show was a solid hit, the media came around and found....silence. Questions were politely answered, but really, no information. Even questions about the sexuality of the performers, sure hot button issues, were answered directly, honestly but with no further detail. Occasionally one reporter would ask a man, stark naked save for a gold cock cover over the head of same, about the proclivities of another perfomer; The answer was meant to freeze and it did, "go ask him".

Since he opened the show, Lannie would go out  to the casino, the street in front of it and, fully clothed, give quick demonstrations and show people, in the casino, the lobby, wherever people asked, how it was done that in the end, it was just hard, cold practice. Phil, one of the line and in almost every scene, would wander around twirling a rope, catch a pretty girl, a handsome man... Bob was another favorite, some liked his body-face it, men's bodies was what this show was nominally about-but more just liked him, open faced army dog face who always smiled. When he wasn't on stage he usually wandered around in his old Camis and a green T shirt with the show's name on it with a wide belt from which clippers hung. You wanted a cut like the guys in the show? sure thing. Sit down, Mister, flat? high n tight, full butch? In the casino, he had trouble getting away so popular was he and his haircuts. Even Ram, the black stallion, occasionally wandered through with one of the guys-fully dressed as what he really was, a cowboy-keeping a soft hand on his rope bridle. On the street children loved him and the gentleman with him always had a supply of treats for the children, and some adults, to feed him. For a stallion, he was only slightly less gentle than a bunny, loved to give bareback rides, meaning he was bareback not the rider-riders who were bare was for later and not on the street-to people who were photographed sitting, usually nervously, on his wide back. Whatever the content of the show, these simple acts by the men-and the horse-probably brought as much business as the interests of those who were there to see male cock at full attention. 

(The gift shop had to, first open a whole counter and, later, the "Sergeant Sword" Gallery where you could buy souvenirs, camouflage studded jocks, pictures, clippers, cast books, videos of the show-with the more exposing parts deleted-army fatiques-signed by various cast members, Navy white caps, tattoo stencils....Sammy knew what the take at the gate was for the show but also what the take was at the gift shop for the show related merchandise-split 50/50 with not just Dane, Heck and some others, but with the whole eighteen cast members,,,and now there was a request from an East Coast Casino to have a franchise there. The answer was, of course, NO, but it suggested how this show and its basic good humor and fine looking men, went further than the boobs and babes some other casinos had as their floor show. Also, compared to a pair of fatigues or thirteen button Navy blues, the cost of one glitter and spangled covered bra was outrageous. The tipping point-Jesus how bright Dane had been-was when men, perfectly straight, came to see the show as part of a boys night out. The reason? For a lot of guys this was an abstract of their service experience, the only difference being the guys in the barracks on stage looked better than the guys in the barracks they remembered. But..what the hell? These guys with their memories were always welcome back stage to meet with their fantasy platoon. What they did not notice was someone with a legal pad making occasional notes as to expressions they used, incidents they told.....much of which could and was put into the show which made it more real; Many guys sitting in the audience would grow misty when something they'd done or said now was here on stage just as they'd said it or done it. Too, Dane caught it, a barracks isn't a place for full dress anything. Granted he had no personal experience being in the service-though once in a print ad for the Coast Guard he'd been kitted out as a sailor on a cutter....so in addition to the nudity and virtual nudity, there were men in baggy boxers, all printed on the leg with some service mumbo jumbo....)

Standing alone a block or two from the casino was a man, waiting for a man, a man he knew would come, as his property, it was his responsibility to show.....In his pocket was the steel collar, the cock cage, the ball stretchers, all five of them. 

He fell on his knees, his hands together waiting to be chained. The collar put around his neck-someday, he was told-it would be welded permanently. He was made to rise simply by one man seizing his hard cock-kept hard almost constantly by drugs. The audience loved it but he knew that eventually, the drugs would fail, he'd have a permanently limp dick until the surgery was done to make it rise and stay that way, stiff, lacking in feeling, but, boy howdy, it looked great. A chain belt around his waist with a chain leash attached to it. He was moved forward toward a pickup with a camper top....but this was no camper, this was a cage in which the manacled man was shoved, chained to certain detention points, the door slammed and locked and the truck moved out.

Sam had, with Mar's help, found a conveniently unoccupied warehouse that had several floors, the equipment to move things up and or down, holes through which to lower material, all the purpose driven things Sam wanted. Mars, too, found it convenient to move some of his louder activity away from his estate, particularly after the attack of the drones which showed the vulnerability of anything with air space. Did this mean he no longer used his home for his own personal amusement, as well as his paying clientele, no, it just meant that with a ready made dungeon master who was permanently motivated to pain, it's causes and infliction, why not expand? His everyday life, as a hot shot somewhat crooked attorney, supplied most of his intellectual cravings but to drop in on "The Warehouse"-the name was already on the building so they left it-provided him with another sort of stimulation, the sort that almost undid his pants for him. Sam and Mars both knew what they liked even if how they liked it varied. 

Delivered every night Heck was made a "regular" in that he had his own cubicle equipped with prison style water and toilet. Normally chained, he had enough room to use it as well as lay on a cot. Nude, he learned to adjust to the cold and heat for which Nevada is famous for and, something he hadn't planned on, his fame upon the wicked stage, was used to demonstrate to recent arrivals that the famous could and would suffer as they would. Equal opportunity. His excuse for absence after the theatre and reasons for not taking invitations, even having a phone at which he could be reached was that since the death of Dane, he needed the solitude. And he was getting it, just not as his suggestions would lead anyone to believe. And, after all, he was the star of the show, at least nominally, so since nothing wrong happened, his being gone was ignored.

Sam didn't quickly tired of him, oh no, he knew so much about bondage and discipline, sadism and masochism, cock and ball torture plus good old fashioned torture that Heck almost always had something new to look forward to each night and, to honor Dane, he was forced to muscle up, get the bulk that Dane and Sam had to take the torture they knew and loved, he was led to understand, when he was big enough... what might happen hung in the air like the stench of foetid cheese.

His evenings, considering the late hour he was available for continuing punishment, started with a two hour work out supervised by a friend of Mars who specialized in turning big men bigger using what ever methods that took. Great for him to learn a full barbell routine but better when they took the needle to him and stacked him up with 'roids, all kinds, some not even tested on rats. Must have worked, Heck was sick when he saw what he was becomming, a muscle headed freak who's only career would involve a posing strap, body shaving and being kept oiled. After, of course, the show closed. His one salvation was that it was a hot ticket and showed no signs of even slowing down; Shows such as theirs that had no star sometimes ran for years, new material added, new cast members slipped in, years. Heck thought about that and wondered and hoped as he was chained to a weight bench, a barbell loaded with plates cutting across his field of vision. 

Some nights he'd have the puppies, Click and Joey, do to him what he'd done to them, the double fuck. Mounting an increasing pumped up Heck felt better as his ass expanded giving him a deeper hole. Tied down with his ass in the air, they'd dump hot sauce down him, carefully put on industrial strength condoms and make male salsa. 

But the torture he most feared wasn't one that was inflicted, it was one he was allowed to imagine; His cubicle was strategically next to the "intake" area where newbies were brought for indoctrination or whatever it was felt they needed to get with the program. Because he heard the conversation before these guys were hauled away, he had an inkling of what they might expect and, for some, who'd thought playing with Mars was a special thing, found out just how special it was. Heck would cringe at the sound of something that sounded like clippers, hear the muffled protests of a man gagged, protesting having his head, or sometimes his whole body, shaved. That was just the cost of entry. And the easiest.

For all his virginity at one stage in his life, Dane and his cousin were exposed to a whole panoply of sex, sexual practices, discussions of said sex and practices which, compared to a country hick such as Heck, made them very sophisticated in ways they didn't even realize; It was around them, they absorbed which, probably, led to their distress at being virgins as they approached twenty. Being in front of the camera hardly protected them from what on behind the camera. The best photographers, such as Alexei, made sure they were never approached for anything other to have their make up freshened or a costume changed as they slid from tooth paste to mouth wash. It was well known that one photographer had sold some guy the access to Dane in his dressing room and already had his pants down, with a gun to Dane's neck, when he was jumped and taken away. This wasn't publicized but in the industry, it shot through like perfume at a prom. Yes, there were some promiscuous models who for money or the hell of it, would do whatever....that did not include Dane and his cousin;The word went out that they were to be treated like Plutonium, one touch could get your fingers, and further up and down, very badly damaged.

In some few cases, Mars brought out paying customers who liked it rough and knew Mars and his staff could provide it. Knowing what could be done, what had been done, and the implanted fear of both, the guys who came to Mars got more than their money's worth; Some even became repeat customers indeed so often that Mars moved their status from "customer" to "availble". One night during their usual shearing, Mars would stroll in, his happy self carrying a well made leather brief case. The "customer" found himself secured, the case opened and there was his future. His collar, permanent cuffs at both ankle and wrist as well as his own marks, done by their resident inkster, on his balls making sure that this merchandise, if found, would be returned. Beyond that, and Heck feared his future might include one as well, a needle placed a tracking device in their neck usually used on dogs, not painful but there forever, even if he was sold, which not infrequently happened, the number and the code went with him making it easy for his new owner to keep track of him. Usually  in a week or two the merchandise was brought back for some additional improvements if a client had been found. The worst of these was the removal of all sexual organs, including the prostate and, when that had healed, a false, but very deep, vagina was cut in. Getting fucked on both sides, said to be quite a scene. 

Now and then when Sam was working him over in the gym, he'd find himself pinned to the floor with a barbell loaded with heavy weights. Sam would squat over him and lovingly trace where he might have certain adjustments made. Because he said so, Heck knew his cock and balls were goners it was what lay beyond that which colored his nightmares. Not just the vagina but widening his ass, increasing  the size of his nipples, with his finger tracing where the tattoos would go...right up the side of his neck and on to his head. Again, the show protected him as long as it ran. And that was a bit of a problem. 

They guys worked hard every night, two shows on Friday and Saturday. Unlike other Vegas shows where chorus girls and boys could swap out if they needed a vacation or just some time off, Sergeant Sword was a close knit show. Replacing any one, even for a night was difficult. For example, Lannie and the rifle twirling...no way could anyone, outside the service, be found to do it. Yes, there was one kid in Syracuse, New York who had most of it down for his ROTC troop but there was no reason to think a University with the reputation of Syracuse was going to release one of their students to appear in a Vegas show more or less-usually less in other parts of the show-naked. The kid, privately said, you bet, he'd practice twice as hard, naked, and even pay his own way IF he could take Lannie's place for a night or two. The first thing, the rifle swirl, was one thing but appearing in other parts in a silver mesh posing strap and nothing else, no. Besides he was only 17. He remained motivated to do it and kept in touch with...Mars and Jerry, not knowing the other was in contact wih the same kid, told him to work out, get that build going, keep in touch, send photos and contacts... and you never knew....

One day Heck and Click were side by side, each attached to a steel column, arms out spread, legs far apart with spreaders, necks, with matching steel collars, held loosely to the column by a few inches of chain. Sam and Mars came in, walked around, took pictures, took measurements, shoved large dildos up their asses, stuck long, flexible sounds down their dicks, attached electric pads to their tits.....the electricity wasn't too painful, compared to what it could be used to do to him. The platforms on which they stood rotated. One dildo out, a larger one in. 

"Whaddya think?

"Close, very close...one needs more bulk, start him on roids, double dose, take him off the force."

"What if...we change him slightly, not try and fool anyone....maybe...pierce his tits, give him some ink?"

"Ummmm. Gotta get him pumped up." He slapped Click's ass with a dog quirt. "Ever wanted a career in show business?"

Heck went cold, his dick dropped, no matter what they'd put in him. This was his end, this was the man they'd bring in to replace him. He couldn't even look but he remembered Click, remembered the magnificent head of hair, the open, boyish smile...grasping for a reason to think this wouldn't work, what if Ram wouldn't accept him?

"Okay, take 'em down string em up, get the snakes, at least on the old one....maybe just a little line..."

"The other one?"

"Give him to Sam, he's been wanting a cop to kill." They laughed. "Sides, he knows how to fuck this one....and likes to do it."

Click was as terrified as Heck, they were both in it and he was right, Sam did know how to fuck him...fill him with roids? He wondered if he'd ever see Joey, his partner, the man he loved, again. Now both men had tears...although for differing reasons; One wondered about his life, the other about his life's love....

It was cold as only Vegas can get with wind straight from the mountains. The snow line was almost at the edge of town, no swimming and people hustled along Fremont Street not noticing the lights above, the music playing Elvis singing 'Viva Las Vegas'. 

Out in the lush suburbs, a frightened young man pulled up in a pickup that  had almost his whole life in it. Joey was deathly afraid, now, but...he had to go to the door, see if it would open and, maybe, he'd find out something.

A pleasant faced Mars opened the door and almost dragged him in."Christ, Joey, what the fuck are you doing out here? Cold? Look at you, what's wrong youngster, come on in...here, give me your hoodie, lets get you out of those cold clothes and into something warm, come on....Joey, Joey, you're shuddering child..what's the matter?"

They got to Mars 'public' bedroom, Mars leading the grown up man, cop tho he was, today he was a little boy, scared and with the one man he both feared and trusted. 

Mars threw open a closet packed with clothes. "Take off those cold clothes and,,,here, warm socks, jock, hoodie, long sleeve T shirt-got my logo, too-uh....oh, here, some warm pants, just pull 'em up, nothing fits? Just pull the strings until they do. Oh, here's some warm fleece lined slippers...anything else, you don't want that, take what you like... Hell you're a man just get some warm clothes on you, you know how to get dressed...I'll be in by the fire."

Joey had never seen so many clothes, it was like...nothing he'd ever known existed and belonged to one man. Growing up poor new clothes, apart from shoes, were unheard of but in here....Wow. He remembered something about Mars, he liked sex, had fucked him all sorts of ways so maybe a little sexy was the way to go...and still stay warm....Not that Joey really knew how to look sexy but then, he just was.

Mars had fixed himself a drink and, given the chill and the season, made Joey a strong Egg Nog. Very strong. He liked Joey, he liked Click, he liked having sex with them, seperately and together plus now he had one isolated although Joey knew spot nothing nor was he going to learn much. At least much that was true. Mars had another purpose for Joey and he'd walked into just as if it had been planned.

Joey appeared looking good. He'd found some close fitting jeans, almost one size too small, a long sleeve T, a bit snug, a jock plus some knee length wool socks. Mars said nothing but realized he'd tried to dress to please if not thrill; Very doubtful he knew how to do that...yet.

Handing him a drink, Mars had him sit on the curved couch near him but not next to him. He'd cross that creek just not yet, he wanted Joey, loose, willing, happy to be there happy to be with this man who, he thought could help. Joey took a big gulp, found it tasted pretty good and not too alcoholic, he had some problems holding his liquor, a fact Mars remembered which was why the egg nog; The heavy creamy, spicey taste covered the five fingers of alcohol that were also in it. He took another big drink...the nice clothes, the fire place, the comfortable room, Mars...he was relaxing not so afraid but still had some serious questions. 

Mars started the the Q&A to keep it going the direction he wanted. "Okay, Joey, I can see you're very upset and I really appreciate you came to me, shows great confidence and I appreciate that. I also know that you got locked out of your apartment for no good reason and you're really frightened about Click, how'm I batting so far?"

"Thousand Sir, specially bout Click I spose you know all about us...we've been your puppies an now I'm just a stray. He looked down and took another large drink, the foam leaving a moustache on his upper lip. Mars smiled, leaned over and wiped it off, letting Joey eat the concoction from his finger. He extended one arm along the top of the sofa and as if he was caught by a magnetic force, Joey moved into the comforting muscle of the arm.
"Here, finish that and I'll get you a new one, might even have one myself." Joey smiled, drank deeply, handed the tankard to Mars who slipped up, over to the wet bar. He liked Joey, really did and knew what to do. Started with two new mugs, Joey's about half filled withe Bourbon, added the egg nog, added some strong cinnamon spice, made one for himself with amost no booze and returned to where they had been sitting. Joey took it in  both hands, commenting on the warmth of the mug while Mars drew him closer until he was nestled in his arms, his head close to being on his chest. 

"Lets talk about Click and where he's been and what he's doing...cuz it's all good." Joey looked at him took a sip and wondered when he could see him cuz, well, Mr. Mars kinda knew they were a pair...

Mars smiled, he knew that for sure but for just a few days, Joey would have to be patient but he promised him, promised that it would all be great and Joey would be soo proud of Click....

"Sir....I know you'll tell me straight but Click, he's not in trouble, anything like that....?"

Mars exploded with laughter, said no, Click was in no trouble he was just getting ready for a big change in his life and, just for now, he'd do better if he was left at the place that was training him, kind of like going to the police academy....a man has to learn how to do certain things before he can be set loose to do them. This was logic that Joey completely understood and, with Mars saying it, relaxed, quit worrying about his lover

"Sir, uh, when they locked us out, well, I don't have much money, won't get paid til the end of the month so...."

"You're home, son." Joey almost cried he was so relieved and he believed, now, things were going to be alright, Mars always made things alright. He settled into the older man's arms...."Sir, remember what you used to do to Click and me?" Only an idiot would have forgotten and Mars was no idiot.

"Of course....why, you want me to fuck you again?"

"Uh huh but....that special way, you know with the collar....."

Mars squeezed him. "Okay, before we go to bed, I'll take you to my special room but, hey, I got an idea....how would you like to fuck me before I fuck you? Like that? Get out the chains and you can do whatever you want cuz...you're gonna be my man from now on and we can do that sort of thing. Would you like to be my special man? Joey? what do you think abou that...?"

"I think I'd get to live with you and sleep with you....if you let me and you can use me however you want because you know how to make me feel good 'n maybe when Click..."

"Joey, this is just about you. Right now, I've got something for you. Come on...."\

In the chain filled room Mars stripped him, Joey was proud to be naked and waiting. Gently, Mars took a silver collar and put it around his neck, snapped it into place then took a silver lock and secured it. He kissed Joey. "How did you like being collared? Means your mine now. Right here, he lifted the solid collar, up front, I'll have my initials engraved so everyone knows who you belong to and when we have some one here, I'll take off that padlock and make the joint permanent...think you'll like that?"

"Yes, Sir, I love it." He ran his hands around the heavy piece, feeling how smooth it was; Mars turned him toward a mirror.

"See, you're my man now, can't call you a boy, not with these between your legs and now...."He smiled as he reached for the buckle on his pants,"I believe I promised you could do something, remember?"

Joey smiled and touched his collar..."You said I could fuck you...however I wanted."

"That I did.:" He finished removing his clothes. "So , you know how we can do things, what would you like to do to me...?:"

Joey looked around the room at all the things but it came to him. "I want to lock you down with as many locks and chains as possible then lay on top and let my prong go in you....but first, cuz I'm your man...I wanna suck you dry."

Mars smiled and leaned back on the table, his cock and balls hanging over the edge, waiting for Joey to drink his milk...for the first time as his possession. 

The young man dropped to his knees, started working the cock gently then hoisting his balls. "You got big balls sir I never noticed. Almost bigger than a porno star...."

"Would you like to be in a porno flick? Just you getting serviced by a handsome man? Rubbing you, telling you what a great dick you had, hefting your big, meaty balls, turning them over in his soft hands, leaning down, licking the head...just like I like to have my head licked...."

Joey smiled, leaned in, stuck out his tongue ready to  wash one, then another then both low hangers before he moved up to milk the Bull. Maybe it would be better if he just let Mars fuck him, he was collared to him now....he should be the one doing the fucking. When Click came back, that's who should fuck him....he wondered if Mars would put a silver collar on Click, make him his, well, his other man? Only Joey lived in a world where fidelity had much meaning but...he was faithful to Click, he was preparing for the future and, with that comforting thought, took Mars dick right down his throat.

Sam took the key and quietly opened the door to the suite; Didn't look good. A standing lamp was half over a chair, the acrid smell of smoke and liquor made a pall in the room better than smog over a Los Angeles Freeway and, just as he'd feared, one motorist had missed the turn at Western and was on the floor. 

Since Dane's death, he'd gotten close to his father, tried to be a buddy, spend time with him but increasingly Jerry wanted to buddy up to Johnny Walker Black or Red, who gave a fuck. As he knew how to do, he checked him for pulse, bruises, breaks then, finding nothing that time wouldn't cure, carefully lifted him up, put him on the bed, stripped off his clothes-he'd pissed in his pants which needed to be cleaned-headed for the bathroom, got wet towels, dry towels, did the clean up, remembered to tell housekeeping....a chore he'd prefer not to do...and thought about what to do next.

At the Warehouse, someone ran a piece of steel across the slit in Heck's window. "Hey, pretty boy, yer gittin moved. The De Luxe Apartment in the sky..." then laughed in a way that was chilling. Chained, blind folded and gagged, he was walked or dragged a long way, the sounds and smells changed, it was frighteningly quiet. "You know what they do here, Pretty boy?" He ran a scalpel across Heck's abdomen. "Yeah, but lower. You just may have been to your last round up..."

They chained him to a bed that, surprizingly, had some sheets, a pillow, a blanket but spread eagled, he was not able to enjoy these amenities. If what the guy who dragged him here was true, he was about to have his balls turn into prairie oysters. 

The door opened again and another "resident' was brought in, attached to the other bed and then they were left alone. In the silence, gagged, blindfolded and stretched out, time moves either very slowly or quickly depending on what your're dreading most. By now, beaten into submission, forced to bulk up, made to do the show with a smile on his face, death would be a release. The other person? Probably the same fate. He made no noise which suggested he was out cold or, more likely, sedated. Heck wanted desperately to hear a human voice, just one that wasn't carrying a metal tray with a syringe or...in it. Knowing there was some other person in his situation made him sadder than he'd been, poor son of a bitch, cut him too. Moments like these...he remembered...his beautiful Dane out cold over Ram, so tired....getting a signal that Dane was somehwere, just lost. Going to get him. Having Dane lean against him just because he was there. He suddenly screamed the name, "Dane, Oh My Sweet Jesus, Dane..I kilt you and now theys gonna unman  me..." He dissolved in tears of regret and fear. 

From the other side of the room an almost silent voice said......"I had a son once, his name was Dane...."

The door had been open and Sam had been, as  he liked to do, exercising while he monitored the situation. He knew that Jerry and Heck had not spoken, seen one another, communicated since the night Dane had fallen to his death. Sam wasn't as bright as Dane but he'd loved him and that gave him some insight into these two men and what their seperate losses had meant to them. One, of course, was far worse than the other but, and Sam believed this, they had bothed genuinely loved their deceased son and partner all that remained was to see if there was enough forgiveness between them to resume their lives. Well, some form of their lives; Sam could not completely forgive Heck and, depending on the next few days....he'd know what to do.

Click was virtually naked, almost scared into his clothes. Standing back stage, listening to the music, seeing Lannie take his position, knowing he had some minutes before he would walk out then there was the matter of the horse; Ram had been skittish during the rehearsel probably proving that animals react to the nerves of the humans around him. Best Click could do was pray when they got to the finale, he would do his usual buck, beat the air with his front hooves and not try and throw him into the audience or back stage or whever he landed. As had been drilled into him, a lot depended on tonight.....Click was able to think...maybe the rest of his life.

Joey was snuggled up by Mars who had changed not only his mind, but his heart, a rarity for him. He liked Joey, his affection and unrivaled ability at sex made him a worthwhile person to have around. No idea why he'd collared him but to watch the joy on his face when he heard the noise that meant he was now part of something....what Mars didn't know, couldn't know was how terrifying Joey's dreams were. He was constantly back there, in a shack, little or no food, huddling for warmth, but he was always at school. Teachers took a sort of pity and contrived to have a sandwich or some fruit for him to take home probably not realizing it would snatched from him by the older children.

And his looks...every teacher noticed those, more so as he grew into young adult hood, graduated. He was stunning. Too stunning perhaps, as his graduation remembrance his father had fucked him until he bled reminding him that he was trash and now, fuck his fine education, he'd put him to work in the fields where no one would ever see him again, in the fields where no one looked up. Worse, his father was the overseer, the man who encouraged workers with a whip that he was not averse to using. 

The field they were in that day was next to a railroad track which mattered not until a train broke down, had to remain there and, when it was repaired off it went with a non paying passenger in an open hopper. 

Joey had no idea where he was, never had known, just lived in a shack, went to school then to work but school had given him just enough ambition, something in his family as rare as a full turkey dinner that, when there was the chance, he held his breath and took it. Toward evening-and it was summer so it was perhaps around eight, they slowed down which was when Joey dared to look up and out. What he saw was like nothing in any book; In the middle of nowhere, there was a collage  of intensely bright light, he thought he could hear noise and decided, once the train slowed enough to safely jump off he would. Welcome to Las Vegas. 

Sam was taking care of Jerry and, of necessity, Heck; They received wildly different care. Jerry knew about drunks and hangovers and men who became drunks, something he was determined would not happen to Jerry. What he was doing was a form of determined detox probably not suggested by AA and Sam would never, ever have been suggested as a sponsor. Still, as a few days went by, the tremors disappeared, he seemed to sleep, he was calmer, accepted the circumstances without knowing what they were; Clearly he had a memory or memories of the last period of time, of bottles and filth...but here, even tautly held down, gagged and his eyes covered, he was warm and to the degree that anyone in his situation could feel, felt better. 

Across the room a mind game was being played on Heck, a nasty one but one, well, someone thought it was a good idea. When he wasn't lashed down, he was tied to the shitter then, when he was collected from there, was hung from a hook, marks made abouth his crotch, the sound of some sort of buzzing and, usually, a man with a lewd laugh would pull the knife across his belly, ever lower until, now, it just grazed the top of his cock which, given what turned him on, got stiff. An invitation to have electric surrounds put there and he was milked several times. Bed, or his cot or whatever felt good after that even though he was steadily more tautly strung out...at least there was no buzzing going through his cock, making it work...He was afraid to moan or make any noise for his fear was that it would attract attention and the knife. As with all men, he really, really did not want to lose his baby makers but in his fear, an attendant hope was that...their loss might be his way out. No nuts, no further purpose. He knew the show had gone on without him, no Dane, Nothing.

Sam and Mars trusted each other...up to a point, typical of men who did what they did in the way they did it. Each respected the others abilities-Mars was stunned when Heck came back from the funeral; He hadn't seen that professional a beat down since, well, he left Chicago. Sam liked Mars life style, liked the instruments of pain, the way he could be used by them, the work out space...living there had real advantages and now Mars had something for him to work with, not work over. He took Joey under his body building wings and started the work to make Joey the partner for Click again; Yes, he would stay with Mars but, and they discussed it, Click would also be collared but to Mars. Both men like the pair and, in some distant past, could empathize with what at least Joey had gone through. Working at his desk, figuring out how to make a steel spread eagle that could be controlled hydraulicly, he suddenly wondered...how the fuck did either of them get in the police force? Not that they weren't good, and great officers, too dumb to be dishonest and too good not to understand the insides of a grim situation. He was sorry to relieve the LVPD of them but in the long run, their own tendency to sympathy would have eventually caught their ass in a sling. Also, it was nice to have the bikes....all painted, the communication gear from the PD...good thing the kids, as he sometimes thought of them, couldn't be touched for lifting them. And then he laughed...with all this improvement, the only part of their uniforms that might still fit would be their helmets and their boots.

Two chairs were placed face to face. It was an empty room with one wall missing...to allow the cameras and the onlookers. Earlier that day, Sam had slipped in, stuffed Hecks ears so he could hear only vague sounds, sounds that would distress him. Across from him, he picked up Jerry, now sober and confused as to why and where and who and what....but he would soon find that out. As gently as one might a newborn, Sam carried him to a spa-another new addition to The Warehouse-plunked him in the water, removed all his restraints and, in one ear, told him to close his eyes as the lights would be painful. Something he'd never expected, Sam was hugging him, welcoming him back and, for several hours between massage, swirling water in a steel tank, rest under a heat lamp...the time between what he last remembered and now was updated and, once that had sunk in-some of it took two tries-what was not to happen was explained. But only after he'd been put to bed, given something to let him relax then sleep....

Sleep was a popular activity that day. Mars and Joey were tucked in, Joey snuggled under the other man, occasionally finding his way to his breast and suckling like a child. Stupid ass, Mars told himself, he was falling for this innocent kid who, after all he'd had done to him, all he didn't understand...still had the human emotion of caring for some one. That's when the knocker sounded. Getting quietly out of bed, snatching a robe from the top of a chair as he passed it and hoping like hell it was not, well, there were several people he didn't want there and now, everyone from the overly friendly UPS driver there to get picked up to Sam to...fuck, anyone. 

What was behind door number one was...a bright eyed, handsome kid with a crewcut, wearing a letterman's leather Syracuse  jacket over a heavy hoodie, with Syracuse on it, which was on top of sweat pants-that matched the hoodie and had Syracuse on them down each leg. On his back was a large duffel bag, marked, not Syracuse, but USMC and in his gloved hands, a rifle which, in Mars face, he twirled. 

Mars tried to stick this together with some vague memories of some ROTC, or maybe it was weekend warriors, well, whoever the hell it was. this must be the guy who wrote asking to do what Lannie did...but who said what to him? Maybe Jerry, he seemed most likely but he was out of commission just then. Getting the whirling stopped he got the kid into the room and, simple questions...

"Who the fuck are you, how did you get my address and what in hell do you want. Also, give me that gun, you're not old enough to know how to play with it." The kid's face fell into abject sadness, all he could do was do a search through several pockets and finally produced a letter which he handed to Mars. Didn't take long to read it as well as recognize the Sergeant Sword emblem from the show. He read it again, recognized Jerry's signature then looked up.

"Do not tell me you're really Bud Anderson....you got a sister called Kitten and an older sister, Betty...what kind of a fucking joke is this?" The kids head dropped even futher and a tear or two dropped on something that said Syracuse on it.

"Mister, I hitched out here from New York because this man wrote..."

"I can read what he wrote and that was to stay in school, get a body on you and maybe, in the future etc etc. He did not ask you to come here...."

"...know that...." put his duffel down and took a heavy envelope from it...handed it to Mars who opened it, took out the contents and almost dropped them. "Kid, how old are you?"

"Eighteen, turned eighteen the day I high tailed it out of town."

"Jesus, who took these pictures, they're, well, they're almost porno except for a few that are hard  core....why would you stick a rifle up your ass?" There was a voice behind him.

"Because he ran away and had to make sure they wanted him gone...bout right? You left these pictures, and I ain't even seen them, get around town...."

Mars turned to look at Joey, stark naked, standing there but, he suspected, absolutely right.  Mars took a moment..

"You want to be in the show don't you, you're a gay man and back in wherever you heard about us and Lannie and his rifle...."

His head stayed down but the tears increased. It was Joey who went to him, put an arm around him, helped him remove a few layers before sweat stuck them to him...turned to Mars, told him he'd take Bud and they'd be right back. 

Mars went to the bar, pulled out a bottle, tipped it up, and let it glug three times. On the third glug the door knocker knocked again....

He looked at the rifle on the floor and thought....fuck, I haven't shot anyone in years....

A fully conscious Jerry was getting ready for what might be the saddest conversation of his life. Seated in a comfortable chair, looking like the wealthy, kind man he was, he faced a plain chair with Heck firmly secured in it, his eyes, ears and mouth sealed shut, a painful, tooth encrusted cock ring being installed which included an electric wire leading to a box, such a kid might have fore his model train and held by Sam who was standing behind Jerry. There were others, Will, Bob, two or three of the guys from the base in Amarillo who were now in the show, all these people who had known and loved Dane. Silently, the gag and ear plugs were removed, nothing else. To make sure it was in working order, Same gave the box a twirl, just a little one, but Heck screamed as his body contorted. One word, "Go".

"Heck, do you know who this is? Where you are? Why you are here? You have very little time to answer."

"I, I don't know. I'm where Sam brings me after the show, keeps me in shape, fucks me, beats me, makes me suck him or anyone he brings.....I don't know why I'm here...probably something about Dane." He fell silent.

"Yes, this has to do with Dane. This has to do with what we think we should do about his loss to all of us. What do you think we should do?"

"Whatever you decide....I guess you're gonna.....torture me then probly kill me...some real bad way....let animals eat me while I'm alive...."

"Thank you for the suggestion." Sam blitzed his cock and nuts and this time his scream was so high pitched dogs three blocks away howled. Good thing he was well tied down, his spasms this time could have broken both arms and  both calf bones. He screeched out. "I DINT MEAN HIM NO HARM I LOVE HIM...."

"Will said when he finally found him, he was standing by the road, waiting for you, thinking you'd come home...Broke Will's heart to have to...do what he did. Tell him what you wanted and how he was the price YOU were willing to pay for some high flying male hooker...Will is worth far more, you made him a slut so you could get away with fucking another man.....Did he feel good? Could he do what Dane did, or, maybe, could he do what Dane could not. Well, if that's the case, only because you forgot to teach him. Sam...." and he waved his hand. This time, almost like an execution, some thought they smelled burning flesh. Heck passed out or went into  shock...

Still holding a bottle, Mars was looking at Harry, big smiling Harry, Harry with the horse cock now hidden under his winter UPS uniform. Feeling no need for an invitation, he walked in, kissed Mars, who for various reasons, didn't move, passed him, got to the middle of the floor, near a couch and started removing his clothes. It even said UPS on his waffle long johns. Harry looked down, bent down, picked up a picture. "Shit, Mars, you do this? Did you pull the trigger? and then noticed several other pictures....."I'm guessing these weren't taken a family dinner or anything like that." He looked at one closer. "Jeeeesus, now that's a pair of low hanging basket balls...How deep can he take you?"

Mars took another swig and handed it to Harry who looked puzzled...."Trust me, you're going to need this. See.. I got Oliver Twist and the Artful Dodger in another room and you and me, us, are going to fuck them...soon as I tell them. And, for fuck's sake, close and lock the door, if anyone shows up, tell them we're giving at the office.

The silence of Heck's passing out bothered no one. Sam removed the electrical cock ring, picked up a bucket of cold water and dumped it on the slouched figure. "He'll be back, just give him a minute. Stupid cunt, Dane or I could take that much at the same time while sucking cock, took away yer sense a taste for a couple a days but, uhm....." Sam, brutal, strong, mean, pain loving Sam thought about a day with Dane and how they tried to take it as far as they could go....in advance agreeing that if it was too far, the other one would kill himself. That's how they played. So when Heck screamed and collapsed, Sam just wondered at how weak he really was.

Jerry was so caught up in his own personal hell of memories, the last night, being held in Danes arms, the note,  how much he loved him how he knew Danes depth of love for him, signing it as a servant to a master and this.....Before Sam could grab him, he was out of his chair and on Heck, beating him with the wild punches that are borne of hell and frustration. Sam, for his size, was a lot faster than some might of thought, got to Jerry, pulled him off and started to take him away pausing only to tell Will to take over.

The silence, again, Bob took had two ball bearings in his pocket and began to play with them as if they were his nuts. The metallic clicking was the only sound other than a collective breathing by men who, like Jerry, were growing in anger,

"What in holy hell are you talking about? Oliver Twist and who?"

"Look at those pictures, that's Oliver Twist pre or post innocence...I'm going to let you pop his cherry if he still has one. Come on, time to get your rocks off."

Joey had Bud in bed still sniffling a little but comforted-Joey had that capacity-but even he was surprized when Mars and another man showed up. The UPS cap seemed familiar, he'd heard something from Click about a driver who knew Mars that Click occasionally blew if he caught him out on his route. 

Mars sat by Bud, mastered a pleasant, even happy if curious smile, while asking him a few things about himself. He made it clear that the other man, Harry, might like to take him in another room for a bit but....Mars carefully framed the question...how much about man on man sex did he know? What had he done?

Bud lit up like a pinball machine allowing extra balls. Disregarding what he'd tried with his hand and, Mars shuddered, a baseball bat, he jerked off all the time, worked out, like he'd been told to do real hard, took steroids and that was it, That was it until he met Josh. Josh? Mars wondered and so he asked, quietly calmly,"Who the fuck is Josh?"

"Uh, he's a guy I met at a truck stop on I-81 when I was leaving Syracuse. See, all the stories I'd read talked about how all truckers were gay and liked having well built men with a rifle along for the ride so...I saw this one guy, real clean truck, so I climbed up the side...looked in...and I saw these magazines with naked men so...he had to be gay, right? Anyway, I'd seen him go into the diner so I followed him in..."

"With a rifle at a truck stop you...walked into a diner up to a man who had a magazine with naked men in it?" Bud nodded his head while Mars looked at Harry in some sort of stunned....."And then?"

"Well I told him the truth, showed him the letter, he'd seen the show and even with my clothes on said without 'em, I could probably find work." Mars and Harry passed the bottle back and forth. "He told me his name was Joshua, but everyone called him Josh and,....I lied, I told him my name was Arthur Dimmesdale, Art for short, you know the minister in The Scarlet Letter who knocks up Hester? So he asked what I wanted from him and I told him I didn't have much money but...what I had I'd give him if he could take me to Las Vegas. Oh, and if he could screw me, that sure would help as I'd never been fucked before, at least by a man. Told him I had no practice so, if he'd see my tail and my money as payment for a ride to out here...well, I'd be grateful. "

Mars and Harry looked at each other, expressionless. Leaving Harry, he took the empty and turned it in on something full, who cared which flavor. "So, Uh, Bud, what happened then."

"I dunno, he spit coffee all over the table but said, yep, he'd take me and, I told you he was nice, even bought me a burger and said he hoped I wouldn't mind but he had a stop or two before we headed West."

"Bud would you like a glass of milk or a sandwich?" Only Joey would offer some traveling fuckee milk and a sandwich in front of two men who were already moving their hands around their ever extending cocks. Bud declined. 

"So he took me to this place on the West Side of Syracuse and took me in, said I needed to be warmed up. I'd never been in a place like that...."

"Did he have you stick your cock in a hole in a wall in a dark room with porno on a screen?"

Heck feared Will more than Jerry; He would at least have remembered when he called him son, maybe spared him whatever was planned. Maybe it was just as well to face and accept his death, however horrible it might be and, he knew some of these guys, it would be so gut wrenchingly terrible all but the strongest conoiseur of torture and death would watch or even think it up.

"I guess it's up to you and me, your whore that you sent to pay for your infedelity and you....the cheater. Remember what you told me to do? Remember you told me to keep him in bed so long he'd forget. Remember how you snickered and said you loved him, always would but, fuck, man, every body cheats now and then, with men like us, it's natural. Guess you forgot to teach him that cause even when there was another man, a good man, a man who changed his life, he still loved you, said so even that last night, told Sam he loved you, wanted the show to be a success. Course by then...he knew you weren't coming back but he had plans, he'd go back to the ranch, run it, have Sam, maybe teach him how to do things, no question, Sam would have been the bull riding, steer wraslin champion at any rodeo...I got a picture here, one of the last of him ever taken. I guess because he had so many pictures taken....well, his buddy, Alexei, the photographer talked him into this one."

Some one handed him a large envelope, opened, Will took out the picture and, with it a piece of wood with a slit in it made to hold the picture, he put it one foot from where Heck was.

It was Dane but not the Dane he'd ever known, rolling muscles, hard muscles, not gym built but hard muscles got doing the most demanding job. He had one hand gracefully behind his cock and balls, slightly foregrounding them. But it was the look on his face, the look that loss of love gives you. He was silent, proud of what he'd made of himself, proud of what was yet to be. 

He gave Heck a moment or so to look at it,  to wait until the tears came and then he said, "This is what you finally sent to his death, looking at you, going toward you but he fell, broke his neck, died before he could reach you. So, Heck, what should we do with you?" 

Will was in some ways the only person who knew Dane's last months and days. He knew that he'd found Sam, changed a whole lot but calmed down, didn't talk about the ranch or Colorado or the barbershop or the show....or Heck. He and Sam, from what he saw, led a lifestyle that scared the shit out of him, the exploding bodies, Sam injected them both with something or other, but Dane never changed his personality much. Maybe got a bit shorter tempered, Sam said to should expect that, it was the roids they did and if he got mean let him handle it, don't go near him for a bit. It was hard to look at Heck and not want to kill him, Will had a temper that suited him to violence and being around Sam accentuated it although Dane, with one or two exceptions, was his usual self. Only time he'd flinched was when they were on the road from Salt Lake to Reno when he saw an ad for the show as a coming attraction and in the middle was Heck, in a small gold Speedo, on Ram who was rearing up. That time Sam had to grab him, hold him tight while Will gunned it and got past the sign. Their lives, the three of them was, he thought, comparatively happy and, Will remembered only too clearly, the sex had never been better. Because they liked him, they gave him blow jobs and fuckings such as he'd never had. His first fisting, first double fuck but all done with patience in a way that he'd come away fully satiated, satisfied and, oh my God, with a good feeling of pleasure. Sometimes, after Dane was gone, he almost asked Sam if he could just maybe, hang around with him. Sam could use him....Now with Dane gone forever, he'd made the same offer and it was accepted, straight forward, down on the ranch, handshake closed the deal. Sam had smiled at him as he felt around his body looking for his deltoids...."Gotta get some muscle on you........get rid of the baby fat." They were partners.

Heck swam back to wherever he was. Will signaled to take off his blindfold so he could see the jury that was waiting, salivating to pass some sort of sentence.

" thought of a day, a winter day, in Amarillo when two men walked into my barbershop and changed my life. Hard to look at one of them and try to remember the other was dead. I was broke, had no food money and by that evening was on a private plane to a ranch in the middle of nowhere and, by the next day, had a whole new career. Plus a barbershop that was going like gang busters. The missing man was mostly responsible and I wondered...what is the correct punishment?

How did I end up on a stage wearing nothing much twirling a rifle in front of almost a thousand people every night? Whose idea was all that? I could look at Heck but only see half the man, the whole man, the man who loved every fucking one of us was dead and now there was to be some sort of punishment....Death?

I was broke, looking for work, any work, just out of the service back home in Texas when I saw the ad for naked soldiers and cowboys. Who wouldn't answer that? Now I was all three, naked, a cowboy and a soldier. What would I do? Something that would get me sent away for a very long time.

In my mind there was nothing but a flow of pictures of Dane. His beautiful smile, his kind smile, his ability to give me just what I wanted. But most of all I thought about his kindness to everyone around...particularlly when everything was wrong, he was the calm, smiling center that somehow kept it all together just long enough for me to get the perfect picture, even the last one...I wondered what would develop if Heck....If Heck's head were on a pole, perfectly styled and advertising a superior brand of guillotine...

"No point in pulling this out. You're a lucky man, Heck, only the love all of us had for him spared your life cuz buddy, we would have stood you against a wall and shot you dead. We would have cut off your cock and balls and fried them. What you're getting is a life sentence of submission to all of us. We're gonna keep you healthy and working, working hard, whether on the stage or wherever. You're home, this place is your prison in perpetuity. You don't need yard time cuz you  get out for hours every day. Sam 'll see to it that you're trained, hard, used hard by whoever wants a piece of you but, Heck, you'll still be alive won'tcha? Oh, one thing, I used to work on a horse farm and used to watch what they did to Stallions who was too frisky; They got what's called proud cut....one ball is taken out...one of yours will be taken out...just because your balls are on stage, you'll get an artificial one....but you'll always know that half of a great pair is gone...think about Dane everytime you put your hand there, remember only...."

He turned to the other guys. "Any one wanna watch? We're gonna spread eagle him nail the nuts down then cut out one...don't think we'll bother with pain killer. Sorta like what it feels like when you fall and break your neck." A few guys did, some just stood. Sam was good at getting him in the hydraulic spread eagle, pushed the button and watched until he was almost screaming as his joint slowly seperated. "Okay, I get to do this...where's the nut cutting shit?"

Heck who wasn't gagged or blindfolded-matter of fact, his head was elevated so he could watch-almost said something but the pain from his situation stopped him. 

Sam pulled up a stool, took a small board, put it on another board which was shoved under Hec's nuts. As promised, they were pulled out and down then tacked to the board. Sam poked at the nuts, wanted to figure out which one was biggest, he'd leave that. Nothing then but to start the incision. Heck screamed and ketp on screaming but Sam was used to torturing men so the sound was just encouraging him. Found the testicle he was looking for, pulled it out to the extent of the cord, looked at Heck then took a small torch and began to sever the cord which would also cauterize it. The smell of burning man meat made him smile, he leaned in and licked the ball, and, when the flame cut it loose, he took it and popped it in his mouth...."Nothing like Man tartare. Okay, where's the newbie?" Someone handed him a sack which proclained the contents were sterile. Sam took the remaining part of the cord and, while he chewed away at Heck's nut, attached the fake part with surgical glue, stuck it back in and, not bothering with stitches, stapled the incicion shut.

Will wondered aloud..."Any one told him he's not gonna have sex maybe forever unless he's getting fucked. Clean his sperm resevoir every so often with that electric jack off gadget." He paused and looked at Heck who had passed out. "See ya on stage Stallion." And walking away, laughed. Later Heck was returned to his cage to recover from the shock. He was given two aspirin for pain....

Mars, Joey and Harry were transfixed by Bud's story of his introduction to, well, probably everything, they just hadn't got there yet. 

"So...you've got your dick stuck in a hole...."

"Yeah and some guy, don't know who, sticks it in his mouth and begins to suck...felt real good but...I was getting big and Josh suddenly wondered if we could get it out. He didn't want me to come but...that was goind to be the only way. And, wow, never felt that way when I used my hand...when Josh pulled me back I was still shooting. He said I was going to be good at that then took me around, sat me down, told me to open my mouth and see what happens. For sure it didn't take long but some guy shoved his prick through the hole and I knew what to do so I did it.Wow! Must have done a good job as I could hear him yelling, seemed he liked it..." After he was gone, Josh came back and he had his pants half off, said something about it was gonna be a good trip. Only thing was to try my tail but that we could do in his truck. He had a bed and tv and just like a little motel. But that night we stayed at a motel he knew about, had a hammock in the room and lots of other neat things. Wow!"

"Does he always talk like Eisenhower was still President?" 

"At least he's enthusiastic." The bottle went back and forth only this time Joey took a swallow. Mars noticed he'd teared up so put his arm around him and asked him why?"

"He was so lucky to get a nice man like Josh, when I got off the train, I found a group of bums an...." Mars held him close. :"They raped you, didn't they." Joey just nodded his head. Suddenly Oliver Twist was the Artful Dodge and the Artful Dodger was Oliver Twist. 

"So...that night. In the motel. Uh, anything new happen?"

"Yeah, I got my cherry popped. Three times. It was great and it meant a lot to me not to be a virgin! Josh was pleased and said we'd stop at a buddy's of his in Toledo and I could start notching my ass...."

"What? This buddy in Cleveland..."

" Toledo. Here, I'll show you" .. and pushed down his long johns displaying a gun tattoo on his ass with notches in the barrel. "Every time I screw some new guy, Josh said to have a tat guy notch my barrel and when that was full, get another gun facing it on the other side..."

"I don't think a gun will get it, might want to consider a long nose rifle...Okay. The motel."

"Yeah, Josh was getting tired, he'd been driving since we left the cock hot spot so he said maybe we'd just relax, feel each other, get hot, hard and see what he felt like doing. Only question, and I was all for taking it in my ass again, was did I have to notch the gun or just when some new guy fucked me....?"

Mars looked at Harry, at Joey, "I got nothing, you guys...?"

"So the next morning before coffee, I sucked him off, he said he drove better if he'd lowered his oil level, then, after breakfast, he fucked me real good and hard-I was sure glad I'd been told to get bulked up, my buns are almost as hard as my cock at times...-then we got in the truck and headed West. Stopped in Toledo, told you about that, and the guy wouldn't take money for the tat..."

"He just fucked you, right?"

Bud looked puzzled. "Right how'd you know?" Mars just waved him off. "He had some deliveries and pick up so we headed up to Minneapolis then down to Tulsa, he said he had a couple of brothers there he wanted me to meet. Matter of fact, he needed to back track and see some other family so he left me with them. Neat guys! Had their own gym, really worked me over, even gave me a couple of the shots Josh had, said they'd make me bigger. Wouldn't take anything for the food, lodging and the use of the gym....."

"....So they just did all kinds of sexy things with you...don't ask how I know...Bud, are you sure you went to even a little college? graduate from High School? I'm just thinking out loud here but..you ever had a gang bang...yet?" 

Bud looked puzzled. Unsure but he added to the conversation that before they left Tulsa, some inkslinger added five more notches to his gun. Which explained, if not who, how almost the whole barrel was carved on.

A nice lady walked into Bergdorf Goodman and explained to the clerk that she was to be married and she needed...the nice lady wasn't so nice and referred her to a store in Brooklyn where she might find things she could afford. 

In tears, from a telephone they'd grudgingly let her use, she called Jerry and just said she needed to borrow the plane or....He told her to get it to her was a waste of time, go to American Airlines and buy a First Class ticket wherever she needed to go; She said it was a business expense and they'd write it off.

At ten the next morning when the doors open, she walked into Neiman Marcus in downtown Dallas and almost immediately felt at home. A truly nice lady in a bun that seemed to permanently drip blond hair, glasses and a big smile came to her. "Hey, honey, welcome to Neimans, what's on your mind this great state of Texas morning?"

Drawing in a deep breath Marigold explained that she was on her way to Las Vegas, to marry one of the most powerful men there but....and she indicated herself, she thought she needed a do over.

The lady, who's  name was Jeannie and originally from Tulsa, knew exactly what to do. Gathered some of the other ladies, all of whom were nice if, sometimes a  bit difficult to understand-it was the deep Texas accent-told them about their bride and, well, honey, we'll git you fixed up real good. Jeannie suggested why not hit the beauty parlor, in New York it would have been a Salon, while she rounded up a few "purties" oh, and did she need a wedding gown? Marigold smiled and dribbled some tears to which six handkerchiefs were offered....As she was helped to the beauty parlor she heard Jeannie say..."Isn't she just adorable, sweet little thang, we gotta git her done up right,....uh, get a coordinator, get a private room and, honey, get some buckets filled with champagne, that young lady needs a trouseau tea."

A nice looking young man tapped on her hair dryer. Said his name was Gary Gunn and he was from the jewelry department, wondered if she needed an engagement ring or.....Not only that, she needed two wedding rings as well as an engagement ring for a....she hesitated....a stallion. Bright as a Texas dawn, Gary pulled up a manicure station, laid some leather trays on it, uncovered them, asked her if she saw anything she liked? Oh, and maybe she could replace the Timex....? Said he'd find some things for her guy...did she think 20 kt gold or platinum for him? Plain or with some dcoration but, hell, honey, sorry ma'am, I'll just bring a lot of stuff and you can pick it out.

Jeannie came back, raised the dryer and said she knew people didn't wear 'em much any more but since she was going to Vegas, how about a fur coat? It bein' Winter and all plus they were on special. Marigold didn't know whether she was crying because she was in love? or getting married-she'd tell Jerry they were once she go there-or just because all these nice people seemed so genuinely pleased for her. Hell, honey, as Jeannie said, I didn't tell my X we was divorced until I brought my second husband home...

Somehow liquor wasn't doing it, what Bud was telling them was a long porn story tho he was the only one who didn't seem to get it, he was just happy to be with these nice men, who all but stripped him, put new clothes on him and gave him a drink. (Not a first, Josh had tried plying him with beer only to find that made him throw up where as Bourbon, neat, went down just fine. Plus there was no reason to get him drunk, whatever he, or whomever they were with, suggested was fine with him;) He viewed it as all sorts of learning experiences...the double fuck in Tucumcari, swallowing two cocks at once-an Indian Reservation in South Dakota-being used for pain-El Paso with the boys from across the border but with special instructions not to leave too many marks...Bud smiled or screamed or loved every second, every inch, every../well he just loved it all. It came to Joey to ask a question nobody had thought about...

"When did you leave New York....?"

"Uh, right after the Fourth of July..."

Mars took up the next one. ",...and you've been with this Josh person all the time?"

"Naw, his dick got broke and he handed me over to Larry in Billings. That's in Montana."

They all seemed to know that. "So....you got left with Larry. In Billing and Josh?"

"Oh, when his pecker got better he collected me in Topeka...that's the state..."

"We kinda know it's the Capitol..." Bud looked surprized. All this was new information to him and as open and, amazingly, still innocent as he had stayed, felt the necessity to tell people what he knew. "So....what happened to Josh? Where'd he finally dump..leave you?"
"At your front door, said if you didn't want me I was to call this number and he'd take me back. Said he knew some guys up the road to Reno who'd...."

"Give....Me....That....Number. I think your knight of the road needs to make some more friends...guys?"

"I'll move my van..." Even Joey was dumb struck, he at least knew he'd been used badly at least for a while and Mars....? Tho his middle name wasn't 'Sin' it easily could be. But Josh iced the cake. They'd all been used badly, some very badly, but months of taking this innocent of the Western World and not only fucking the bejezuz out of him, but renting him out.....Nope, not in their world. If you were a working boy, that was one thing but to tell this kid for a few bucks and his tail he'd give you a ride to Vegas? No. 

"Joey, I want you to go into my closet and dress him up, you know, ready for action...." Joey smiled and started to another closet door, telling Bud to strip. Then everyone stopped....Bud was hung like the proverbial horse with big, meaty low hangers that he was lucky he didn't squash with his knees. Harry dropped a glsss, Mars dropped his jaw and Joey just flat sat on the floor. 

"Well....that answers a lot of questions... A   Lot. Son, when you came in my door...how long, and I'm guessing here, had you been wearing those baggy drawers?"

"Uh, Josh had me take off my regular jeans..."

"The ones with buttons instead of a zipper or you just pull on? And was there a shirt, maybe real low cut with no sleeves?" 

"How'd you...?"

"Harry, you want to take that one? I think I've answered enough questions..." Mars left the room holding a piece of paper so tightly it could have spontaneously combusted. Certainly Mars could have. In his world, he got to call all the shots from innocence to whatever, he didn't take used goods and he fucking hated men who were predators of young, toothsome man flesh...although in Bud, it was hard, no, impossible to imagine anyone dumb enough to have been through all this and, so it seemed, had a good time. In corner of his big living room, he put on a sound track, one of many he kept for situations such as this, so it seemed as if there was traffic in the back ground then slowly and with anger punched in a number then waited while it rang.

"Hey, kid, he didn't want ya? Figgered as much. I'll swing by and pick you up, Okay?"

In his best tear stained voice he said that he was tied up in the front hall and just walk in....Mars hung up and prepared the front hall, just not with Bud. Oh, jesus he wished Sam were here, he'd love the fuck out of this one.

To Be Continued