Terry - part 14

I awoke the next morning when Terry got up to use the toilet.  Shackled as he was, he couldn't step over me, so I had to move to let him by.  Moving sent a sharp pain through my groin.  My balls were swollen from the night before.  For once, I hadn't awoken with an erection.  I wondered if my balls would ever function normally again.  What if they had to cut them off?  Then, I'd be like Harris-with a dick that never got hard.

As Terry walked to the toilet, I saw that Snyder's blow had left a large bruise on Terry's back, but, from how my balls felt, I was certain that I'd been hurt more.  Terry was still angry, though.  He wouldn't talk to me.  I couldn't understand it.  Snyder hadn't fucked him.  So, he'd had to suck my cock.  That couldn't be as bad as being fucked by Snyder.  I would rather suck Snyder's cock than be fucked by him. Neither had Snyder hurt him as badly as he had me.  Last night was past.  I wondered what the coming night would bring.

Not having eaten much the day before, we wolfed down breakfast.  Afterward, Rodgers and the guard from the previous day came for us.  "Snyder said to be sure you guys had a shower today.  He said that you need one.  Did you have fun last night?"

We didn't answer, but he hadn't expected one, anyway.

The shower felt good.  We stayed under the hot water until Rodgers yelled at us.  There were no uniforms waiting, so we walked to the recreation yard naked.  The restraints were removed when we entered.

My balls hurt so much that I sat in the shade.  I didn't feel like walking-much less like playing basketball, or some other game.  I expected Terry to shoot some hoops, as he usually did, but he lifted weights, instead.  He hadn't spoken to me since we had entered the recreation yard.  When he spoke, it was to ask me to spot for him.  I did,  but I could feel the strain of lifting the weights in my nuts.  When I let the weights slip, Terry cursed, "Fuck, Lyons.  Can't you do anything right?"

"The weights are heavy-and my balls hurt."

"You're such a baby, Lyons.  That's not much weight at all."

"Maybe not for you; it is for me; besides, I told you-my balls hurt."

"My balls hurt-my balls hurt.  You're not the only one Snyder's hit in the nuts.  Hell, he grabbed my balls last night, too.  You don't hear me crying about it.  He's hurt me much worse than he has you-besides, he hasn't fucked you."

"He made me suck his cock-that was bad enough."

"Hell, you like to suck cock.  Why should that bother you?"

"I don't like to suck Snyder's cock."

"What's the difference-a cock is a cock."

"If a cock is a cock-why didn't you suck Snyder's cock?  You sucked mine."

"I didn't want to lose my balls; besides, I didn't think you'd come in my mouth-you asshole."

"I told you that I was going to come."

"Yeah, after you'd already squirted into my mouth."

I looked down at the ground.  I had wanted to come into Terry's mouth; that's why I probably waited so long to tell him.  To distract him, I asked, "What are you going to do when he makes you suck his cock."

"I won't suck his cock.  I'm not like you.  He can't make me suck his cock.  I can't prevent him from raping me, but he can't make me suck his cock."

"Not even if you know he'll cut off your balls, if you don't?"

"Not even if I know he'll kill me.  I'll never give him the satisfaction of sucking his cock.  I'm not weak like you.  He hit you in the balls once and you were slobbering all over his cock."

"He hit me more than once."

"Oh, OK-he hit you twice.  Christ, Lyons, you disgust me."

"Oh, yeah-he just grabbed hold of yours and you sucked my cock."

"How about the knife, Lyons?  Do you remember the knife?  He wants to cut off my balls.  If I hadn't sucked your cock, he would have.  You'd better quit bring it up that I sucked your cock.  I'm pretty pissed at you for coming in my mouth as it is-and, if he makes me do it again, you'd better not come in my mouth.  I'm not queer like you.  I don't like the taste of come."

"How can I stop it, Terry?  You know he told you to swallow it next time."

"You can pull your dick out of my mouth, or push me away before you come."

"Then he'll beat the shit out of me."

"If you come in my mouth again, I'll beat the shit out of you."

Feeling guilty with the knowledge that I could have told him in time to keep from coming in his mouth, I couldn't blame Terry for being angry.  I guessed that I would have to find a way to avoid doing it again.

After recreation, we were put back in our cell, naked and shackled.  My mattress was still on the floor.  Still angry, Terry rebuffed any attempt I made at conversation-but, by then, we were both worried about Snyder's return.  I sat on the mattress on the floor.  I was afraid that Terry would kick me off, if I sat on his.

When he arrived, Snyder commanded us to get on the floor again.  Since I was already there, I scooted forward to make room for Terry, who rolled off his bed onto my mattress.  The door opened, and Snyder walked into the room.  "How's my two little cock suckers tonight?"

Ironic, I thought.  Although Terry said he wasn't queer, he was a cock sucker-just as I was.  We had both sucked cock the night before-and I had sucked three cocks-first Harris', then Terry's, then Snyder's.  I wondered if I'd have to suck Snyder's again tonight.  My balls still hurt.  I knew I'd suck his cock, if he ordered me.  He wouldn't have to hit me.  I'd do it to keep from being hit.

"Come here," he ordered me.  I crawled to where he was.  "Stand up," he said.

When I stood, he unlocked one of my handcuffs, then locked them again, fastening me to one of the bed posts.  "You get to watch while I fuck Pretty Boy."

I bit my lip to keep from saying anything.  I knew it wouldn't do either Terry or me any good.

Terry didn't resist.  He raised his ass as instructed by Snyder.  I cried as I watched.  I wanted to say, "Fuck me, instead," but it wasn't me he wanted.  

After he had finished, he told Terry to suck my cock.  When I said that I didn't want him to, Snyder hit me in the ribs with his baton.  "I don't care about what you want.  He's going to learn to suck a cock-and he's going to practice on you.  This time, don't tell him when you're going to come," and, to Terry he said, "don't spit it out.  I want you to swallow his come."

Before Terry took my cock into his mouth, he looked at me.  With his eyes, I knew he was telling me not to come in his mouth-but, Snyder was standing there, too, slapping his baton against his palm.  He, too, was silently communicating with me, "Don't tell him you're going to come." 

At that moment I was more frightened of the certainty of Snyder's beating than the possibility of receiving one from Terry.  I tried not to come, but Terry's hot mouth on my cock-the knowledge that he was sucking it-was too much for my weak resolve.  I came, giving Terry no more notice than a slight moan.

Snyder was prepared.  He must have known-better than Terry-that I was about to come.  When the first of my spunk splashed against Terry's throat, Snyder grabbed him by the hair, preventing him from withdrawing or turning his head.  Although Terry managed to turn his mouth enough to slide my cock out, allowing the last of my come spurt onto his face, most of it had entered his mouth.  Before he could spit it out, Snyder grabbed his face, holding his mouth and nose closed.  Deprived of air, Terry's natural reflex was to swallow.  After he had, Snyder released him,  "I told you that you were going to swallow it," he said, laughing.  He wiped the come which had stained his hands on Terry's back.  "Not bad.  Soon you'll be ready for a real cock."

A real cock?  Remembering the sight of Snyder's deformed member, I wondered.  Surely, it wasn't his cock to which he was referring.  He unlocked me from the bed, then left without hitting either of us.  For me, the visit hadn't been as bad as I had feared.  Although he had hit me, it hadn't been in the balls, which, if the climax had been any indication, were still functioning.  My ribs were sore, but didn't feel broken.

It had been worse for Terry.  He had been raped-then had been forced to swallow my come.  At that moment, lying on the floor, he was gagging.  "Are you OK, Terry?"  I asked.

Glaring up at me, he answered, "Fuck no, I'm not all right.  I thought I told you not to come in my mouth."

"I couldn't help it.  Snyder was watching me."

"You could have-if you'd wanted to.  You wanted to come in my mouth.  You want me to be queer like you."

I think he would have attacked me, if he hadn't been shackled; but being so restrained, he wouldn't have been able to inflict much damage.

The lights went off, reminding us that Snyder could be outside the door, watching us-or listening to us.  Terry climbed onto his bed.  I scooted onto the mattress on the floor.  Sometime, during the night, I fell asleep.