Pink Hackeysack Part 7

PINK HACKEYSACK Part 7

Under my hot feet the ice began to melt. I could feel it in the darkness, the cold slipperiness as my pedestal of death dissolved beneath me. And as it did the rough noose slowly tightened around my throat. After only an hour the knotted rope had grown uncomfortably tight. I didn’t dare move for fear of slipping on the icy puddle and ending my life far too soon. I mindlessly repeated crazed exhortations of praise to the beauty of Jason’s phallic masterpiece and the masculine swell of his virgin ass. By the time another hour had passed I was beginning to choke. Each breath was a rasping death rattle, drawn with slow deliberation through my narrowing windpipe.

My only regret was that Jason was not here to watch me die, that he didn’t care enough about his worshipful slave to observe my final agony. I imagined him stretched out naked on my bed, his hard-on roaring in sleep as he dreamed of pussy. I was sure I would never see him again. Then, still hours before dawn, I heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs. He was naked, carrying a load of pillows and blankets which he deposited on the floor before my ice gallows. I wondered if he had slept at all; he appeared to be very drunk. Without saying a word or even looking at me he plopped comfortably on the makeshift divan he had created and uncapped a whisky bottle, taking a long slow drink.

I was so grateful to him but I couldn’t speak as even breathing required a concentrated effort. My head felt like it would explode from the hot blood pounding in my temples and I reckoned I had only minutes to live.

Jason smiled, lifted his muscular leg, farted and said to me, “When I was a little kid our neighbors got a puppy. They were a couple of old farts without any kids, so this dog, Shep, would always come over to our yard to play with me. Everybody thought it was cute the way the mutt – he was part sheep dog, followed little Jason around. That damned dog really loved me. When I was little I liked him too, but when I got older he started to get on my nerves. He grew into a big fucking sloppy mess of a dog. I got to where I couldn’t fucking stand him but his owners were getting too old to walk him and shit so my folks always made me do it. ‘Be a good boy and play with Shep. Take him for a walk.’ The dog started to get old and useless too. Like you. Shep trusted me. He was a stupid fucker. One day I lured him to the woods with a big piece of meat” (the young man had started to lazily stroke his own giant meat, as he spoke, the precious meat he had used to lure me.) “I got him deep in the woods behind our house and muzzled him, then I staked each of his paws to tent spikes I had hidden down there beforehand. I had it all planned out. Then I started torturing him. I was only fifteen then but I had been thinking about doing it for more than a year. I put out one of his eyes with a stick. Then I snipped off the end of his dick with a pair of scissors. Shep really squirmed and both wounds bled pretty bad but I bandaged them up so he wouldn’t pass out. Then I did what I had been thinking about doing for as long as I could remember. I set fire to the fur on his back. That really got him shaking- just like when we set fire to your butt- and the more he shook the more it burned. It was scary but funny too and exciting. After a minute I smothered the flames and then I set fire to his head. You should have seen that pathetic fucker. Now here’s the weird part, the part I never told anybody, even Erich. I had stripped butt naked so I wouldn’t get any evidence on my clothes, dog hair and shit. But when I saw that mutt scared shitless and just getting all fucked up with pain, I got a boner. Like now, looking at you choking in that noose.” (I had started to struggle now as the dog had, against my will, knowing it would only hasten my expiration, but unable to help myself. I was terrified, if Jason had failed to tie my hands I would have surely tried to remove the choking collar, despite my resolve to die for him. Part of my terror came from hearing the all-powerful boy’s confession.)“I put out the flames again but it didn’t matter, the fucked up dog was dying, so I nutted him with my pocketknife, just like I did you, the same knife in fact, then I spit on my dick and, you know what? I fucked that stupid dog up the ass while I strangled him with my bare hands. The only fucking queer thing I ever did in my whole life but it was the best nut I ever popped.”

“I buried Shep and I don’t think they ever found him. They thought he ran away. I never did that to another dog. And I never wanted to. But it started something. I started to think how great it would be to do something like that to a dude. I jacked off a lot thinking about it, but it always made me feel so fucking guilty, I just thought it was some kinky thing I’d never be able to do. Then I met you. That day in the park, it wasn’t an accident that I kicked that hackeysack in the river. I had my knife with me and from the minute I kicked you in the nuts I knew that you were my Shep, like my fucking faggot dog come to life again. I took your nuts as a pledge and I went back to the park again and again trying to find you. I knew you were thinking of me. Then I had the idea of posing with your nutsack in the paper. I figured a boy-crazed queer like you read the sports page, or at least looked at the pictures. See it wasn’t just a fantasy any more. I didn’t have to kill a man. I could kill a faggot. You guys need it. I been looking at your fag porno.” He held up one of my gay magazines he had brought down with him and spread it to the centerfold, showing me a picture of five good-looking gay models connected dick to ass in a five man fudgepack. “See what I mean?” I’d like to take my knife and just go one to the other chopping their dicks off and watching them get swallowed up in the other fruit’s bitch-hangin’ asshole. Then before I kill them I’d make each of them eat the hot dog up his butt while the guy I cut it off of watched. You’re my first, Shep but you aint gonna be my last.”

Then the god boy stood up and went behind me. To my amazement he straddled the ice behind me and pressed himself into my back. I felt the iron of his hardon buried between my butt cheeks as his big hands came around to cradle my sagging breasts and his strong jaw sunk into my shoulder forcing me down, closing off my air completely. As darkness closed in and my body went limp in his arms, he began to hump my ass and whispered into my ear, “Goodbye, Shep, I love you.

With a start I felt the hot blast of his cum shooting up between us coating my back and his chiseled chest in a smear of pure testosterone. Then he cut the noose and I tumbled to the floor. He was on me in a second, loosening the choke collar from my throat and kicking me in the stomach gruffly, angrily ordering me to breathe. When I finally was able to gulp hot raw gusts of air he calmed down. He left me there on the floor. As he started up the stairs, he said, “Get some sleep, Shep, there’s more tomorrow.”

“Jason, god, sir, please let me say one thing.” He paused on his way up. “That boy Evans, he’s innocent, Royal and those guys forced me to lie about it.”

He laughed, “Oh I know, I know, faggot. They already told me.”

Jason, my god, was a psychopath. I had never even suspected it. My fantasies had always fed on the unreasoning, stupid hatred certain heterosexuals have for fags like me. There was no doubt the young athlete was the merciless god of my darkest fantasies, but I never dreamed that my fantasy stud would be driven by a deranged sexual need to kill. If I had ever doubted that he would murder me those thoughts were gone. And he would kill again. My perverted need for pain and degradation at the hands of straight idols had met its perfect complement in this monstrous boy. In a very real sense I had unleashed this monster. I thought of Evans. He would surely be Jason’s victim too. Quietly, when I was sure he was asleep, I crept to the basement door to find it locked. He was taking no chances with me now. I couldn’t force it without waking him. All I could do was rest and hope that somehow I would be given the opportunity to warn the beautiful pizza boy.

After that night Jason kept me to himself. His friends still came around. They still had their parties, loud and drunken affairs judging by the mess they left for me to clean up. But while anyone else was in the house he kept me bound and gagged in a locked closet. If anyone spent the night, which happened rarely, I remained out of view, locked away for hours at a time, until he was alone again and ready to untie me.

I would prepare his dinner while he stretched out naked on the sofa, then when I had served him, I would kneel at his feet and eat the dog food he had set out earlier for me. Jason wanted me to be his cook, butler and maid, but when that was done, he wanted me to be his dog. I could speak in his presence if he asked me a question, but once I was on my knees at the dog dish I was expected to keep silent. He would get drunk watching porno movies- he went through all of my straight movies a hundred times or more lazily stroking his fat dick and smoking cigarettes, commenting to me about a woman’s breasts, about how he could tell that she had given birth by the size of her nipples, or laughing hysterically at the stretch marks around a young whore’s gaping asshole.

Always, though, after he had worked up a good head of steam he started playing my gay videos and that’s when the evening really began. Jason claimed that it sickened him to watch guys pork each other’s butt holes, but he kept watching and his dick stayed hard. One night he let me sit on the floor between his big legs, my back turned to his manhood as we watched TV together and he started using my scalp as an ashtray, mashing his cigarettes out on my baldness, never referring to what he was doing and getting, as expected no comment from me. Every time he lit another one I grew anxious and excited knowing that in a few minutes he would put his mark of pain on me again, scarring me in a way that would show my shame for years, if indeed I had years left rather than days, hours, minutes, for I never knew when my young god would tire of me finally and forever as he had the doomed dog Shep.

That night he took my tortured head in his hands and whispered in my ear, “You know in the movies how they always kill people by twisting their necks until they crack?” And as he did he turned my head from side to side, slowly at first, then faster and faster pushing it to the limit, straining my muscles, “I’d love to do that to that guy right there.” And he pointed to a pretty gay model getting an assful of stiff video prick from a well-hung black stud and obviously loving it. When he stopped he said, “You like it when I do that, don’t you?” Of course I did. I loved every minute of the time we spent alone together. He kept a baseball bat under the couch and when the butt-fucking gay boys were really going at it on the screen he said, “Heel” and I knew that I must present my ass to him. When I was down on all fours, head lowered to the floor, he began to screw me with the fat aluminum. As he brutally plowed me he told me that he was going to destroy my faggot cunt so that nothing but a Clydesdale would be able to take any pleasure from my stretched out hole. Then he started in again about the queers on the video, how he wanted to fucking kill them all.

That evening on the sofa ended the way many of our evenings did. Jason leapt to his feet leaving the bat buried in my ass and turned me over on my back. The twist of the massive club in my rectum was just another twist in the long thumbscrew of pain he inflicted on me unceasingly, almost unthinkingly. He fell on me, his engorged prick landing on the vacant place where mine had been, his furious mouth seeking my breasts. While he humped me, he tongued my nipple, his teeth clamped over my aching tit. Then as always, his hands went to my neck. He choked me until I was blue, shaking me like a bobble-head doll while his hot orgasm built between us. Every time it happened, we both knew it could be the last time, as Jason’s self-control and perhaps his sanity slipped further and further away. But always my life outlasted his adolescent heat and the attack ended with his huge slick spurt of cum and the giant boy sobbing on my tits like a baby.

I had come to think of it as our love-making and though he still occasionally fucked his girlfriend, either alone or in the company of his friends, it was the one thing I had come to depend on in the days following the party.

I went on like that, locked up all day, tenderly brutalized at night, the days passing in a timeless haze. I only knew that a week had gone by when Jason informed me that Dorchester’s wife was being brought over for her scheduled gangbang. Royal would not be part of that company though. He had been busted on a parole violation the night he was supposed to cut off Evan’s dick. Jason sneeringly followed that news with the promise that the parolee’s re-incarceration didn’t mean that my “boyfriend” was off the hook. He’d see to it that Golden got the boy’s dick if he had to cut it off himself.

When people came to look at the house (a sign had appeared in the yard) Jason put me in a locked room with the other things the prospective buyers couldn’t see. Every few days men arrived at the back of the house with boxes of electronic equipment. I didn’t have to be told to know they were coming from Mr. Golden’s warehouse. Jason was working with DeRoi and Emilio who were in touch with the other two thieves. Golden didn’t know exactly how many items had been stolen from him and had scheduled an inventory to bring the books up to date. But that wouldn’t be happening for a week or so. In the meantime he had had to go out of town for a few days and the blackmailed dock workers were taking advantage of his absence to grab whatever they could. They believed that it was Golden himself who had gotten Royal Adams sent back to prison and they planned to sell everything quickly and use the money to get away from their malicious boss. In the meantime Jason had agreed to store the items in an upstairs bedroom for a share of the take. He figured that Golden would never dream he was playing both sides of the fence. Jason refused to pass up an opportunity to make money, and so when anyone came to look at the house that room stayed locked with me and the merchandise inside.

He had already told me that the sale of the house would definitely bring our affair to an end. He was afraid he was turning into an alcoholic and was close to being kicked out of school. He needed to get on with his life. He spoke to me of that coming time as “after your annihilation” or “Once I off you” as in “After your annihilation, I’ll try to get back on the team” or “Once I off you I’ll be able to concentrate on school.” He was matter-of-fact about it expecting that I accepted the inevitable as thoroughly as he. And of course I did. If the ice gallows incident was any hint of what my long anticipated death at my young lover’s hands was to be, it would be a fitting end to a life steeped in dark desires until now nearly always unfulfilled. If I thought there was any way our idyll could continue for months or years, Jason nightly torturing and dry-humping me, I might feel some sadness at my demise, but it could not. This interlude was harder on the boy than it was on me. The sad confusion in his lovely green eyes when he realized that he had again shot his seed over a middle-aged faggot’s filthy body, his frustrated need to choke the life out of me, thwarted again and again, was heartbreaking. And so we both looked forward.

On Sunday we drove to the woods together ten miles from town to select a gravesite, which is where he planned to kill me. He explained that by digging it in advance and by murdering me at the gravesite we would minimize the chances that any evidence would surface to fuck him up when he began to proceed with the rest of his own hopefully long life. Like a silly young housewife I packed him a picnic lunch, beer, chicken and potato salad and once we had selected a suitably remote location in a thicket sheltered by trees, he stretched out to enjoy his repast while I stripped naked and dug. It was important to Jason that I dig it alone so it was nearly dark by the time I finished. He spent the day listening to rap tunes, smoking pot, drinking and jacking off while he watched me, naked and sweatdrenched scooping out the hole where he would finally lay me to rest.

When I finished, I boldly asked him if I could know how he planned to do it.

He laughed. “Can’t you guess? The same way I did Shep. I’m going to put you in the hole, pour brandy over you and set you on fire. Then I’m going to crawl down there, fuck you up the ass and strangle you. Yeah that’s right, Shep, you’re finally going to get what you’ve been drooling over. Not in your mouth like you want it, but you’ll enjoy it in your cunt too. Don’t you know that’s why I never fuck you? Cuz if I fucked you,” he laughed, “I’d have to kill you.”