The Undercover

Heart of Inferno

Sin's battlefield, the deepest center of the complex was done in an Egyptian theme. To Nick's eyes it resembled ancient Hollywood's/Spielberg's view of ancient Egypt more than the place itself. The reds, and bronze tones of the cavernous ballroom glowed in the light of uncountable braziers which danced upon the burnished surfaces of the monumental columns, and varied phallic deities of this ungodly nether-world, reeking of incense and an overpowering funk of sex. Even standing at the top of the grand entrance stair, the warriors worked to breath in the steaming humidity of the grand hall, as they looked down with revulsion on the writhing sea of humanity below them.

"These sick fuckers are gonna pay" whispered Nick watching the in human display of three ring style cruelty that surrounded him. His remark swallowed by the cries of the victims and the resonant chorus accompanied by drums and cymbals, stationed in discreet corners of this Bosch-ean bacchanal emitting a monotonous chant so deep, and ancient that it might have been composed in the bowels of a Tibetan mystic a thousand years ago.

He was focusing on one of the most influential cardinals of the North Eastern United States, a man rumored to have ambitions to the papacy, inserting ice cubes into the asshole of an equally well known Russian gymnast who's legs were securely chained heels high to the vaulted ceiling, arms manacled wide onto a wooden turn table. At the same time dripping red wax from a candle running from the flat naval approaching the cock head, another prince of the church teased the screaming Olympian's nipples and underarms with a peacock feather, before plunging his withered cock between those full lips.

Similar scenes; whippings, enemas, piercings and random acts of rape and molestation were multiplied endlessly in every direction.

In contrast, to the oiled muscles of the objects for sale, each patron was dressed in formal attire appropriate to his home, often accented by varied fetish gear, a sort of depraved League of Nations, joined together in peace by the common bonds of wealth, power, and perversity. All of these men wore white hooded capes over their elegant clothes which were covered by mystical looking astrological symbols, such as the one a slave now draped around Nick's broad shoulders.

Throughout this deprived tableau, nude, or loin-clothed slaves decorated in gold paint, and Egyptian style jewelry, necklaces, armbands wafted gracefully laden with trays of refreshments, and drugs. Nick heard a crash as one of these, seized by a patron, dropped the tray, and was summarily bent over a pedestal and entered by the masked reveleller.

The center of this pit was an island ringed by a steaming pool built to resemble a river. Slaves ferried guests, carefully navigating past the decorative bridge which linked it to the rest of the room, and their fellow unfortunates submerged by those who preferred to enjoy their slave muscles wet.

The island reminded Nick of a fiberglass mountain that might be found in Vegas, or Disney World in hierarchical levels. The base was circled by a row of (Nick assumed) unprocessed men struggling against their chains. The second level contained a slab that seemed something in-between a sacrificial altar and high- tech medical examination table which stood in front a marble statue of a spider. Finally like a cue-ball yellow cherry on top sat Mr. Sin wearing a ridiculous Chinese Emperor style costume, red silk flowing off of the sides of the elaborate throne on which he theatrically lounged, wafting a large gold folding fan, absentmindedly groping at the two gilded slaves that flanked his throne contentedly surveying the world of his creation. 

"Fuck me!" exclaimed the wide eyed Hunt, as they reached the bottom of the stair. 

Nick exchanges a glance with Wronek, and silently wished he might have recruited someone with the sense not to say something like that in this place.

Nick continued to scan the room, and finally saw, like a ray of combed-over sunshine in the midst of these profound depths, Hal Danvers making a college try at inconspicuous, sweaty palms wrapped tightly around a martini, in a cheap rented tux in the shadow of an anachronistic statue of Priapus.

"Chief!" The once chilled vodka mixture rained backwards, past the oversized onyx phallus, toward the frescoed vaulting.

"Christ am I glad to see you… my recruits, Jake Wronek..navy seal, and Jarrod Hunt, er..kinda plays football. You alone here?"

Danvers nodded at Wronek and Hunt.

"Thank God you're safe. No, I brought in seventy-five ops disguised as crew on a supply ship. I only managed to get fifty in this room. The rest are stationed near the boat. We don't have enough to bring them down, but I can get you and some of these guys outta here. I don't know how we're gonna get Farrington, he's got more security around him than the Pentagon. I say we get out now, and come back with enough fire power to do the job. I'm not sure about the safety of the men of got in here and I want out now."

"No I say we make the strike while we're here. We come in later, we won't be able to get out any of these guys alive. We can take em."

"Alive? I'm guessin most of these men would rather be dead than have to live like this." Nearby an ancient right wing senator from a southeastern U.S. state applied clothes pins to the nips, torso and balls of the Latino boxer he was fucking. " Sorry Nick, I say we pull back now and get the fuck outta here with all my men alive. 

A resonating gong brought all other sound in the room to a halt.

Sin, now joined on the dais by a very high ranking member of the Saudi royal family, had risen.

"Thank you all for coming to my little soiree. I trust you are all enjoying yourselves?"

Thunderous applause filled the hall.

"For your discerning consumption we have brought together tonight some of the finest specimens of succulent manflesh, if I may humbly say so myself ever assembled. Captured by our brave raptors from the four corners of the earth for your selection at auction tonight. I am sure that many of you will go home tonight as very satisfied and, as always valued clients of the House of Sin"

Impatient applause again assaulted the hunky agent's ears.

"But first we have some very special captures who will be linked to their masters this evening. The first, I know we are all very anxious to see is Brent Farrington a young American footballer, who has brought the highest price ever paid for a slave in the history of our little auction house. You will see from his exquisite beauty that he is well worth every centime. And so, before we begin the auction. I hope that you will all enjoy the induction ritual of our beautiful new charges. As not to keep you in suspense too long we will begin with our stunning Mr. Farrington. If you will please prepare for the ceremony"

Nick, and Danvers followed the lead for the other guest by closing their cloaks around themselves and covering their heads with the attached hoods. Hunt and Wronek imitated all slaves, not impeded by bondage, in kneeling on one knee.

Sin raised his fan dramatically.

"Bring forth the victim"

The Take Down

Nick could make out an expression of confusion and rage on Brent's face. He seemed unable to command his own powerful body to resist as the prince lifted his legs and slowly, teasingly slid his dick into the quarterback's enslaved shitter. The famous gravel voice, growled, and then moaned as his owner's rod ripped into the unexplored territory of the star athlete's clamping hole. The new slaves entire body began to rock with each increasingly rapid thrust. With tears in his eyes Brent's head swiveled back and forth in a futile "NO!" against the rough stone of the slab.

What made Nick turn away in disgust was Sin's cruel laugh drowning the ragged moans and echoed through the hall. The cock sucker found this funny. Now he was distracted. Now it was time to strike.

"Let's get the bastard, chief."

"Sounds like a plan"

Sin Continued, his face still red and tearing from laughter,

"Our next subject is a conquest I have desired personally since before he was even born. My perfect man, and the centerpiece of my permanent collection. Gentlemen I present for your puerile pleasure......

FBI special agent Nicolo DiCipriani"

Nick felt strong arms grab his own sinewy limbs, the oversized triceps not given time to react. A softer arm encircled his barreled chest, and the sharp pain of a syringe injected into his thick veined neck. He strained his head as far as he could manage to see the grinning moon face of Hal Danvers, who cupped his pectoral with one hand as he completed the injection with the other.

The balding bastard nuzzled his ear and in a blowing whisper answered Nick's shock.

"Like you said Nick, get the bastard... looks like I finally got the drop on you"

He bit deeply into the lobe. The steaming hot breath from Danvers mouth seemed to become a rushing wind into the Italian tough guy's brain which carried him high into the vaulted ceiling and then in swooping circles down into the crowd and back up again, as his body slumped backwards against into the chief's waiting pot bellied embrace. He felt Danver's flag pole stiff cock poking into the small of his back as he leaned against his employer.

Wronek and Hunt had released his arms which now hung uselessly at his side, and now ripped apart his robes to reveal the magnificent heaving torso. The crowd gasped collectively in appreciation. A collection of muscles, so clearly defined that they seemed almost separate from one another, a sinewy patchwork of the Greek ideal. Nothing but muscle made up this massive but lean torso, the huge rounded pectorals outlined by just enough hair in the deep cleft, and along the underside to accentuate the masculinity of this perfect, cast a heavy shadow over the thin flat stomach which sported a series of sharply defined abdominals, and the faintest outline of ribs, all divided down the middle by a soft black treasure trail. The crowning jewels, of course were the small but pert wine red nipples which stood to attention stretched vaultward.

Under heavy lids Nick watched his clothing roughly removed. He noticed Doc, bruised but not dead, standing grinning at him from a pillar.

"Sorry mate" said Hunt "Got no choice anymore"

"We've been processed for weeks, sir." said Wronek. "The mother fuckers planted us deliberately in your path. We have to do exactly as they command. I am sorry sir. I would have been proud to serve with you"

"Ch…. Chief….wa why?"

The answer whispered so far into his ear that the small hairs tickled within the canal

"Mr. Sin made me an offer I couldn't refuse, something I've wanted so very badly for a long time"

Of course, it all made sense now. Danvers had set him up as his only contact. Now one on the force even knew he was on this mission!

"Wha … betray… for ..wha…?"

Nick felt a podgy hand slide down to cup one high round glute

"Why your ass of course"

"No o unnh" Nick's tree trunk legs buckled beneath him, and he fell deeper into Danver's lascivious grasp.

His foot wear had disappeared and with one rip the tight white briefs shredded away. The perfect cut body of the hot shot FBI agent was now completely naked and vulnerable within the groping clutches of his enemies. Danvers' roaming hand choked his beer can thick cock. He had always been proud of it's unusual and intimidating length, now inexplicably rock hard and oozing precum imprisoned in a rapists hand.

He caught a glimpse of the wounded Virgil huffing with each thrust of a fat hairy guests forearm buried elbow deep in his stretched hole. He had let him down, it would happen again, and again. Sorry kid.

The buzzing oceans crashing within ears did not drown out the sound of those taunting him. He fought to maintain control of his own limbs.

"You see Nick, I could never afford a slave on my salary. Some how Sin found out how I've been watching that round tight butt over the years and he made me an offer. He gets a mole in the FBI, I get to live out my retirement in this paradise and we both get you"

"Enough! Danvers, bring him to me" commanded Sin.

With an exhaled sigh, Nick fell over Danver's shoulder as his boss bent, and then straightened, his hunky burden now dangling over his stooped shoulders.

His head dangling pointed toward the floor, was actually still spinning in rapid circles and bouncing from floor to ceiling. He felt the insistent pounding of his heart could be heard to the far reaches of the island. Each exhalation of breath carried with it a whirring ticklish wave centered on where Danvers' bony shoulder dug into his solar plexus, making that point of contact nearly unbearable. He was painfully aware that all eyes were riveted on his plump exposed buttocks arched lewdly above his captors pudgy frame. Worse, his dick, now more granite solid and larger than it had ever been squashed painfully against the traitor's back, would not stop leaking precum, the effect of the powerful drug. A widening spot of ooze now saturate d the back of Danvers' shirt where the tip of his dick rubbed against the shoulder. He felt Danver's hand snake up to cup one cheek possessively.

He had learned, during his time hear how the masters loved seeing their helpless stud-slaves in this debased position, how they slobbered over the countless pairs of ripe buns bent upward to their wills. He was going to save them all, and now it was him, Nick, the tough guy from Bensonhurst, who never lost a fight, the brave agent who had known no fear, securely hanging completely in the power of his perverted betrayer.

From his regal perch, Sin's mouth became a Sahara, with his heart pounding at the base of his tongues to match his victim's. he had longed for just this sight, or the idea of this sight since he could remember. He never cared for men who were too pretty, or easily taken.

For Sin the joy of what he did was the hunt for the unattainable, strongest, and most dangerous men. The meanest, most masculine, most heroic. Since he had seen the first surveillance photos, he had known that Nick was the most perfect specimen of this most desired species. He would have given everything he had to posses him. It had taken three years of spying, stalking, and negotiating. He had finally found his breakthrough in the like minded, and lonely Hal Danvers.

There may have been other ways to capture this prize stud. This sting had been costly and time consuming, but now, at this moment. It was worth it. The perfect strong hero brought down by the sweet betrayal. The rugged hunk had trusted Danvers so completely. The cruelty of it. His dick throbbed at the thought of it. Betrayed. 

Now, finally, here was his ideal, his Spartacus, draped, helpless, arms and legs swaying with the labored movements of the panting Danvers. The magnificent ass bent submissively and served up before him as a succulent feast…his.

He smiled at the apt phrase from a distant echo of the castrati's chant;

"propinat me nunc dapiferNunc in scutella iaceo, dentes frendentes video"

The Feast

Finally the agonizing procession came to a halt and Sin found himself face to ass with his treasure. Tenderly he allowed his withered talon to rest on the smooth glute, and was pleased to touch round steel under tight skin.

"Ahhhhhh…exquisite." A razor sharp fingernail found it's way into the deep cleft to threaten the tender hole, followed by another to pluck a hair from the rim. He delicately lifted it under his nose and inhaled like a fine wine, and then brought it to his lips, and closed his eyes in ecstasy savoring the musty taste before swallowing. "Every part of him is delicious, you may lay him down"

A submissive Farrington having been led away, it was now Nick's turn to lie as a slab of meat across the slab of rough stone.

Catlike the shadow of the spiked fingernails protracted over the drugged beauty, and then ran, oh so lightly, lazily starting at the ankles, and then, threateningly, up the inner thigh to tease the heavy balls, one running up the central vein of the shaft, to scoop up a bit of the thick layer of precum forming in the lower, heaving flat stomach, the manly peroxide spunk wafted past his nose. Using the fingernail like a spoon, he coated the parted, "Elvis lip" with it and bent to kiss his beloved. The kiss was at the same time cinematic and obscene. The insistent tongue exploring even to the tonsils. Nick retched and gasped for breath. It seemed to go on forever. Then ended.

The daggers that were Sin's fingernails continued to explore the virgin landscape of Nick's torso, torturing the pert nipples that peaked over the massive chest. Leaning down occasionally to tear at the tender flesh of the nubs with his nibbling teeth, like a rat.

"Welcome to your new life detective DiCipriani. I hope that you have enjoyed our little deception as much as we have. It was delightful to watch you as you fell so perfectly into our trap"

Sin had by this time clamped a suffocating cock ring at the base of his thick meat, and was, butcher-like, wrapping Nick's now indigo balls with twine. His cock now felt swelled to a painful deformity and yet no release came.

"Uuunngh Yo..hmmmphhh… you'll never.. aahh… get away with this…aaagghhh…you ..ahhh…cocksucking…faggot huhunnnnghhmmmmm"

Sin frowned thoughtfully.

"Hmmm perhaps not. Perhaps someone will discover your plight and come to save you. But, I am sorry, my prize stallion, I don't think anyone will arrive before, Mr. Danvers and I have had a chance to ride you.

And we do intend to ride you very hard indeed. By then it will all have been worth it."

He stepped back to admire the package he had made and pushed the upright cock flat against the stomach to see that it now reached the navel, and once released, point rigidly toward skyward once more.

"You see?"

He lifted Nick's head roughly by the hair. Through his dropping lids, he could see Sin's embroidered robe had fallen open to reveal his own huge member, pierced at the tip with a decorative ring studded with tiny spikes.

"I have dressed up just for the occasion…Do you see what is in store for you?..But less talk from you I think, more writhing."

"Noooooo…"

Nick's head bounced heavily back against the stone. His mind still swimming in the ether high overhead. Sin's laugh once again echoed in the chamber.

At a nod from Sin, the infernal machine clamped on to his limbs, and flipped the helpless stud over a bench not unlike a sawhorse constructed over a chair in which sat the man he used to know as The chief. His swollen bondaged manhood was forced through a tight hole at the apex, and the naked detective found himself again bent over and ass high in the air. He felt his arms and ankles chained to the corners of the apparatus.

"Now my beauty, we both know it is not necessary to restrain you like this, the drug has made you quite helpless, however, I am sure you recall that I prefer to see my muscles bound. If only you could see how beautiful you look…You may begin Mr. Danvers"

Danvers needing no permission, had already, like a suckling calf gone to work on Nick's dangling dick, while reaching up to paw at the agent's shivering man tits.

Where Virgil had sucked with the skilled artistry, Danvers devoured the swollen cock and balls with an urgency born of starvation, a hunger never before satisfied. His need was to take pleasure not to give it. Nick felt a screaming pain as if he had become attached to an industrial vacuum cleaner.

And then, worse than he could have imagined, he felt a cold wind blow into his exposed and quivering asshole. Sin had placed an ice cube in his mouth, before beginning to blow into that rosebud pucker. His hands roughly massaged, and mangled the round high glutes, the long sharpened thumbnails, spearheading the first invasion into the long schemed for hole.

An attending slave held a small glass bottle against his nostril to further thicken the drugged cloud in which he was lost.

Nick's buzzing mind became aware of sharp points poking into the delicate canal. Sin had begun to gingerly kiss the marble mounds moving closer and closer toward the uninvited fingernails. Again that cold breath nearer and nearer until the shock of icy tongue, an melting cube made him lurch to rigidity, and back to limp.

He felt Sin completely bury his face, nuzzling deeper and deeper into his defenseless hole, as wet cold tongue replaced sharp fingernails to continue the invasive exploration into his center.

Somewhere between rage, pain, and unimaginable pleasure Nick felt he was going insane. His mind buzzing around the toxic injection, and inhalation of rush, the relentless hoovering of his cock, combined with the twisting of his nipples, and the sucking, chewing and slurping face further into his ass, Nick tried to resist giving his tormentors the satisfaction, but failed. He began to moan loudly and fuck into the chief's greedy face, at the same time bucking his ass further up into the invading face of Mr. Sin. 

Sin smiled deep within the crack, his hero had succumbed to the pleasure of the rape. Without removing his tongue, he changed his position to continue his licking, while giving his silent audience an unobstructed view of the invaded ass.

Finally the tongue left his asshole, and Nick foolishly sighed in relief.

Sin took a moment to enjoy the shadow of his dick hovering menacingly over the helpless ass it was about to invade. He had waited so long to see it exposed before him and, hairless and dimpled it exceeded his expectations, now writhing before him he could see the sinewy muscles which gave it it's firm roundness ripple invitingly under the taut skin.

He could stand it no longer. He placed the ringed cockhead teasingly against the small wet opening. Nick's hole instinctively clamped shut against the pending invasion. His popper increased heartbeat now thumping against his eardrums, Nick could see a dark circle on the interior of his eyelid drawing him in and down, a reflection of the soon to be ravished hole.

"NNNOOOOooo!!! PLEASE …PLEASE DON"T!!!!" Sin smiled and teased again, just a centimeter in.

"YOU FUCKING FAGGOT I WILL KILL YOU!!!!!"

That was it. That was what he had longed to hear. This macho stud, this unconquerable tough guy, begging him not to and then threatening him. He could bear it no longer. Finesse would come later. Now he must hear the scream.

He pulled his hips back and then with all the strength he possessed he buried himself into the unlubricated virgin hole. He was not disappointed.

"AAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!"

Nick's head now hung limp jiggling with every thrust. The velvet hole formed around his dick like a latex glove. Now he could take his time, so he pulled back out and entered again torturously slow. He swivelled his hips around, torqueing and sliding, as the alarmed sphincter spasmed around him. The tiny spikes on his cockring ripping into the sensitive interior flesh. He gazed lovingly down at the intricate pattern of muscles which came together to make up the sweat slicked heroic back tapering down to small waist, lean hips, and that firm bubble butt crushed up against the invasion, as, parasitically, Danvers fed off of the cock underneath. 

Along with the increased beat of the drums, Sin's pace began to gather speed, as the hard ass special agent beneath him jolted with very invading thrust until he finally reached a wild frantic rhythm stabbing in an out of the ruined asshole with all the caution of a runaway train.

His victim's head now banging against the frame of the structure which held him, his cock into the gurgling mouth of the traitor.

Mine

He exploded into the helpless gaping hole.

Cum also overflowed down the sides of Danvers' apple cheeks, as the man he betrayed finally released in hot pulsing waves into his mouth. He tried to swallow it all but there was to much and the musclegods dick was also ramming down his throat in complete step of Sin's ramming thrusts.

Thunderous applause filled the hall as the perverted assembly celebrated the capture of another hero.

Now it was Danvers' turn. As the chief stepped behind the captive he thought back to the smoldering stud he had last seen working out at the punching bag, with sweat sticking the ribbed wife beater he wore to every curve, and then running down over the ass crack of the shorts stretched over the pert ass. Now he had him as he had always dreamt of. Naked, humiliated, cum oozing out of the raped hole.

He clamped his sweaty palms firmly onto each round cheek, and parted.

"OOOoooommmphhh"

Nick had hoped that the middle aged Danvers would be a relief, after the oversized cannon that had first violated him. But his ravaged hole now damaged and throbbing could bear no more. Tears welled in his eyes as the shocked grasping muscle of his colon was once again stretched beyond it's limits

The over eager Danvers was not capable of the subtle varied approach of the first rapist. He had watched this stud cop every day swagger like a king around the office, too many years of longing were pent up in this fuck. Nick's hole felt like velvet around his needful cock, soo good his reward. His cock was short, but it was fat, and tested the strength of the ass muscles it rammed into. There would be many more times to practice technique. He slapped the stud ass "Not so tough now huh?" THIS was for every time Nick had confidently torn off his shirt while working out. THIS was for every cocky swagger when ever he closed a case. THISTHIS was for every time he bent over a neighboring desk to look more closely at a computer screen. THIS THIS was for his careless use of all of the models, and dancers, and waitresses he went through like a box of candy. And THISTHISTHIS was for all of the tight fabric that stretched so thin, so enticingly over that HIGH TIGHT ROUND PERFECT ASSSS AGGGHHHH… AGGGGHHHHH NIIICKK!!!!…and so the Italian tough guy cop, with killer body was raped a second time.

Nick sensed the drug began to wear off slightly, but not enough to call his massive limbs to his aid. He felt the same machine that had ensnared Farrington clasp onto his own naked body, and lift him again in the same fashion.

Terrified he tried to struggle, but could only writhe pleasingly. From far away he heard the chanting castrati:Sors immaniset inanis, rota tu volubilis, , status malus,obumbrata et velata michi quoque niteris;;nunc per ludum dorsum nudum fero tui sceleris. 

He felt as Farrington had, Sin's soothing hand on his bare ass.

"I could have taken you after this, but it was so much more fun to rape you"

The third invasion into his ass came from the glass beaker with the bubbling green fluid. The liquid tingling, and warm seemed to spread through his solar plexus and mingle with his blood stream.

He felt the flat of the chip injector against his perineum, and then white, searing pain as the chip tore into the very center of his sexuality, and sent shooting charges into his brain.

Again he heard Sin's subzero laugh.

Something in his consciousness was suddenly not there, like a deleted file. Something else had taken it's place. An unfamiliar sexuality, not his own had entered, as if he could see, and be aroused by his naked muscles hanging in the clutches of the machine. He understood. Mr. Sin's desire had control of his brain. He was enthralled. He must obey.

* * *

Rapidfire, surgically precise blows rained down upon the battered punching bag, the sound of the repetitive pounding echoed through the otherwise empty gym. Special agent Nick DiCipriani, grunting and focused, his square stubble covered jaw set in concentration, was perfecting his already deadly kick-boxing skill. or maybe just trying to release the crushing anger that boiled in his mind.

Coated in a thick layer of dripping sweat, which plastered his ribbed wife beater to the shelf of huge round pectorals shading the abruptly tapered six pack, and cascading in a solid line over the grey shorts covering his pert round ass, DiCipriani's 5'11 175 pound 6.1% boy fat frame worked like a machine to pummel the bag. Rivulets of moisture glued his raven black hair onto his brow. It is easy to see why he never had a problem landing any woman he chose to glance at.

He had been unable to save Farrington, a gay fuck toy in a luxurious Saudi Harem. He had also failed poor Hunt now rented out nightly to the highest bidder in the Hong Kong brothel that was his home. At least he was still playing ball. Nick understood that he had been trained to shoot billiard balls during nightly entertainment.

Angry blood filled his throbbing temple as he continued to pummel the bag. It was only a few weeks ago when they learned that Wronek had been sold to an extremely sadistic faggot in Germany, who put the navy seal through an unspeakable surgery to modified him completely just to please him.

Virgil, at least was healing well, and under Nick's careful tutelage was becoming an accomplished fighter. Nick glanced at him performing careful pull-ups on the other side of the gym.

Nick thought of all of the men he had been unable to save, and knocked the stuffing out of the bag.

His frenzied beating was interrupted by the sound of a newspaper hitting the floor. 

"Looks like I had the drop on you again"

It was the chief. He always came in this way and said that same thing here in the recreated FBI gym here on the island, so that Hal Danvers could act out his diseased fantasy again and again.

Without looking away from the bag Nick spat on the floor.

"I saw you faggot traitor. I always see you"

The chief slowly walked to him, and as always suckled his tit through the ribbed wife beater before tearing it in two, and lowering the gym shorts, leaving only a jock strap to protect Nicks overused genitals.

"It's a little different this time. I brought a friend. You remember Doc."

He felt his hands suddenly joined by cuffs behind his back and a weasel finger enter his callused hole. Doc and his bag of toys. This would be painful.

He watched the chief's comb over from above as once again the flabby mouth closed around his already hard cock, and up again to meet Virgil's inscrutable gaze.

He tried to cling to hope.

One day he will be free.

The End