PERILOUS JOURNEY - 19
Copyright 2012 by Carl Mason
All rights reserved. Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author. However based on real events and places, "Perilous Journey" is strictly fictional. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Further, as in real life, sexual themes unfold gradually. Comments on the story are appreciated and may be addressed to the author at email@example.com
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This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between males, both adults and teenagers. As such, it is homoerotic fiction designed for the personal enjoyment of legal, hopefully mature, adults. If you are not of legal age to read such material, if those in power and/or those whom you trust treat it as illegal, or if it would create unresolvable moral dilemmas in your life, please leave. Finally, remember that maturity generally demands safe sex.
(Revisiting Chapter 18)
As the flames rose high, the judge intoned, "Council, one and all, do you call for Andrew Cooper's full sentence to be imposed?" In one voice, they replied firmly, "I do." No sounds could be heard above the crackling of the fire and chirping of insects as the judge reached down to a small table, picked up a large ornate dagger and extended it to the man who had administered the whippings.
(Continuing Our Story: The Letter, cont.)
Suddenly, a deep, electronically-enhanced voice boomed from the darkness, "This is the police. Drop your weapons or we'll fire!" Something roughly shook Billy's shoulder....a "something" that turned out to be one of State Police Sgt. Tommy Connors' hands. "Come on, Greene, let's get down there and move your friend up to one of the ambulances waiting on the road!"
Gently, albeit securely strapping Andy to one of the EMT stretchers, Sgt. Connors and I had only moments to talk. "We're going to let you take your pal over to Doc. Hodges' place. We know where you are and we'll contact you if and when necessary. You need to know that Andy's not guilty of ANYTHING...though he probably thinks he is. Miller's attack on the Northway was just a cover-up! Believe that if he had found you in the car dazed, he would have killed you on the spot. That bunch of dumbasses is real good at that sort of thing....but we got 'em this time. Hank Miller finally confessed to strangling his stepson, after violating him. The whole bunch of them are going to be out of circulation for a long time! Doc Hodges will explain more of what's been happening - and he'll advise you in helping your friend. Listen to him. He's Czech-born. His family helped victims after the Gestapo and the NKVD had worked them over in Prague during and after World War II.
These notes are pretty mixed up, but I gotta run. A friend who has a Christmas tree farm up in Vermont has promised to help me get across the border. I know those bastards have surrendered, but I've had it. I just want OUT! This isn't my country anymore.
The doc tells me that all of Andy's bills have been paid by the lawyer in Glens Falls.
(Brainwashing and Its Aftermath)
The doctor's return was so silent as to be unnerving. Robbie looked up from the letter and found Hodges sitting behind his desk, examining him intently. "Quite a letter," he murmured, almost to himself. "He left one for me, too. When the ambulance arrived, I did what I could. Operations restored what could be restored. His genitals, anus, and rectum, for example, took a real beating, most of which I've repaired. Nevertheless, he will need time to overcome the effects of the brutalization, i.e., the terrible beatings and sexual torture. Even more, Mr. Thayer, he will need time, proper care, and a great deal of personal support to overcome one of the worst cases of mind control - often called 'brainwashing' - that I've ever seen. You now know that it was in Miller's interests for Andrew to believe that he had violated and killed Miller's stepson. He succeeded, Mr. Thayer. He succeeded beyond anything I have ever seen personally or about which I have read. He succeeded with a cruelty that put the Gestapo and the NKVD to shame. But enough of that, yes? You need to spend some time with your friend. When you are ready for food or drink, simply signal on the room buzzer and arrangements will be made." Until then, you will have full privacy. With that, Doctor Hodges rose and escorted Rob down the hall. "I keep this one private room so that a patient and his family can have a little privacy during a visit," he murmured.
"Andrew is likely to be awake, but deeply depressed, Mr. Thayer," he whispered as he halted before a door. After Rob had responded at some length, albeit inaudibly, he opened the door. As the good doctor stepped back, Robbie entered a room that was sunny and clean - albeit painfully sterile. Andy lay in a standard hospital bed, seemingly not noticing his arrival. A smile on his face, Rob stepped over to the bed and looked down on the young man who had been his closest friend for ten of his twenty years. He lay quietly on his side under a tented sheet. Rob knew something about depression from reading, but he was still grieved to note the dullness of his eyes and how little he seemed to be aware of his buddy's arrival. Inasmuch as Andy did not appear to be wearing a hospital gown, he also noticed the large number of still visible bruises and only partially healed scrapes and other small wounds that marred his face, neck, and massive shoulders. Despite his shock, Scott reached down and stroked the golden haze that was appearing on Andy's skull. "Never seen anybody whom I was so damned happy to see," he muttered, somewhat dry mouthed. "Man, I've missed you, bro!" The big blond's eyes closed tightly, large tears squeezing from their corners. "Hey, what's this crap, Big Guy?" his buddy asked. "Gotta get you outta here and up to the Lodge. It's not far - and everybody's waitin' to see you!" Scott desperately wanted to throw his arms around the big lug, but he let himself hold off. He still couldn't share his life's greatest secret with Andy.
Andy abruptly sat up in bed with a sharp gasp of pain, nearly causing his friend to jump back. "That's not going to work!" he growled. "I've got reservations somewhere else. Anyway, if you knew all that's happened, you wouldn't want to have anything to do with me!" The distraught young man couldn't hold it together any longer. Sobs forced themselves out of his throat; tears poured down his pale face. Rob moved over to the bed, gingerly sat down on the edge, and forcefully threw his arms around his friend's heavily muscled torso. Like the child he never was - for he had grown up unwanted and in as tough a Bronx neighborhood as ever existed - Andy collapsed into Rob's arms, laying his head on his chest and allowing some of the agony to drain from his tortured soul.
Gently wiping the tears from Andy's face as he held him, Robbie murmured, "You said I wouldn't want you around, bro. What's happened? How in hell can that be true?" Andy caught himself for a minute. Lifting his head, albeit for only a second, he muttered, "Can't. Too horrible...too sick... Just let me go, Robbie. Hold onto at least a few of the good things you think about me." "No way, dipshit!" his buddy replied, beginning to slip back into their banter. "We've been best friends since you tackled me on that fuckin' asphalt driveway in third grade! I never said a word to Mrs. Washington! You owe me the truth!" Suddenly, Robbie swung his athletic body up onto the bed next to Andy, pushing him back onto the pillow and gently rubbing his heavily muscled shoulders and torso. The All-American guard trembled under his buddy's hand.
"No good way to tell you, bro, but I don't really have any choice," the red-faced jock whispered apprehensively. "When we stopped for a break down on the Northway, I found a kid in the john...a real junior asshole. He gave me a lot of lip and blocked my way into a stall. Man, I was only a second from shittin' my pants! Suddenly I saw red and pasted him. He kept it up. Rob, I don't have Idea One why I grabbed him, did my stuff, and then fucked the shit out of him. When I saw what I'd done, I completely lost it...strangled him...and ran. Man, we left that pit stop on two wheels! (Pause.) His dad caught up with us and ran us off the road. When I came to, I'd been stripped, tied up and stretched out on a stone slab with him pounding into my ass. "When I'm finished," he rasped, "I'm going to see how you like dyin' with my hands chokin' the life out of your body!" "I tried to tell him I was sorry...and I begged...but he wouldn't say a word. He just kept reaming me out.
(The Devil's Apprentice)
"When he had zipped up, grabbed me by the hair, and pulled my head and shoulders up off the ground, I looked at him and choked, 'Anything, sir...anything... You're the boss'." He hesitated. "You know what this place is, bitch?" he asked. "When I said I didn't have the foggiest, he replied that it was something like a boot camp. We turn out soldiers here who are ready to protect our country. I could use another drill sergeant, but I doubt that you'd be interested. The job's too rough for the likes of you! My orders are God's law! Sometimes, my men have to kill someone rather than have the fuckin' Government learn that we're gettin' ready." When he grimaced and began to clamp his fingers around my neck, I accepted the job. "If I hadn't lost my soul when I killed his son, Rob, I think I lost it at that moment.
"When he wanted someone - young or old - softened up by fuckin' him, I fucked him," Andy continued. "If he needed someone lashed until the bones showed," I lashed him. If his 'Council' sentenced someone to death, I wielded the ceremonial dagger. If he needed relief and didn't want to take the time to leave his work, I ran over to him, knelt, raised my head towards him, and opened my mouth. If he needed to show a visitor that he was important and in charge, he'd signal for me to come over and stand or sit beside him. He'd play with my stuff...sometimes until I came, but usually only until I was on the very edge. Then he could show his power by leaving me with blue balls. He was the devil incarnate, bro! One time I remember that he was trying to persuade six really big SOBs to be branded - without rioting, that is. His answer was to show them that it was something that a 'real man' could handle. Briefly, he ordered me to strip and be tightly secured. Muttering that if I screamed, I was a dead man, he grabbed my cock and jacked it until it was hard enough to be used as a railroad spike. With one hand, he then pushed the foreskin well back over the ridge at the bottom of the head while he accepted a miniature, red-hot branding iron with the other hand. Seemingly without a second thought, he quickly branded his initials on the head of my fuckin' dick!" Hesitating, looking like death warmed over, Andy finally choked, "I don't think you'll believe me, Robbie, but it doesn't matter much...either way. I only wish that this was the worst!"
At this point approaching my own terror level, I began to wonder if the State Police Sergeant had been telling the truth about Andy and the Millers. Almost hysterically, I shouted for the doctor. The door was thrown open with a crash and he, Hank Miller (in restraints) and Sgt. Connors entered. Basically, the whole story was reprised with Miller admitting his role in the affair and the Doctor telling Andy how far Miller had gone to fix the story in his brain.
To my amazement - and horror - Andy looked at them as if he were thinking, "Ok, guys, what else can you tell me that doesn't matter?" There was even a trace of contempt in his expression! 'Well,' I thought, 'in for a penny, in for a dollar' and like a smartass sarcastically asked him what could possibly be worse! Andy looked at me sadly and shook his head. "Running Back," he snorted with disgust, "you really want it all. Well, never say I didn't warn you.
"Robbie, there's a lot about me that you don't know and, frankly, I had hoped that you'd never learn. You're a nice guy, Running Back, but frankly you have lousy taste in friends. For starters, I come across to everybody like the Marlboro Man, but I've known I'm attracted to males for years. Truth is, you turned me on long before we had to shower at school.
"Tellin' it the way it is, I don't think I'd be so into the idea of raping, whipping, killing, or maiming people on my own. I might not even get such a charge out of drinking their piss, though that's in question. The truth is that Miller and his friends awakened me to the fact that I like cock. I want cock - and if it's hung on a good looking naked male who's in my power, so much the better! It excites the shit out of me - and I'll do anything to get it! That's why I'm not fit to be around decent human beings...like you, Rob. That's why I can't be around your kids up at camp. I've turned into a psychopath, a raging, frothing predator! Since you want full honesty, I'll add that the sooner someone removes me from this stinkin' life, the better. If I can hock up enough courage, I'll save the world the trouble!"
For two or three minutes, there was absolute silence in the room. The two young men simply lay side by side. Then Scottie raised up on an elbow and uncovered the rest of Andy's body. (His suspicions were confirmed when the big blond's hands were dislodged from his stuff and the better part of a foot of rock-hard, pulsing, drooling flesh and cartilage violently grew in length and thickness!) Without speaking, Rob appreciatively sniffed the musky perfume permeating the air. Moving a bit closer, he leaned down and kissed the head of something that looked as if it might take off and head for Mars at any minute! Almost incidentally, he noticed the letters "HM" that had been branded on the mighty blood-red helmet whose quivering intensified and color deepened as the pressure rose. His first impulse was to yell, "Ignition and liftoff!" and throw himself on Andy in hysterical laughter. Nevertheless, he stopped...abruptly...remaining silent and - for reasons not completely understood - deeply saddened.
For some minutes, Robbie sat dejectedly next to the massive blond, slowly grasping all that he meant to him. He suddenly realized that he didn't have the slightest doubt about valuing Andy's life above his own - though he was dismayed by the idea that Andy might cut and run. No matter what the challenge in the past, he never had done anything like that. Calmly, now in full possession of himself, he finally rose and thanked those who had entered the room in a serious attempt to help both of them. "Thanks, guys. I'm truly grateful. Now I'm going to ask you to leave the room for a bit. Andy and I need to talk. Please don't interrupt us, Doctor, until I signal you."
Bending back down, he lovingly kissed the finest human being - child, teen, or adult - whom he had ever known. The tip of his tongue then flicked down the body that had stirred his passions even before he had known the purpose of parts of his own body: the big blond's throat, nipples, abs, the innie that always set him off, the glorious definition of his Apollo's Belt. Gently, he licked the raw wound on his beloved's glans like the mother cat that had discovered a brotherly or sisterly bite on one of its kittens. Slowly, he began twirling the tip of his tongue around the entire corona, gradually extending his attentions to the heavy shaft that seemed to go on for ever! At its base, when he came up for air, laughing, he nibbled on the few blond hairs that were reappearing. All would have gone well if his teeth hadn't unexpectedly caught on one, pulling it out by its root! The object of his affections growled loudly and play-slapped him on the back of his head! In repentance, Rob immediately returned to Andy's glans, using lips, mouth, and tongue, massaging one ball after another in their wondrously soft pouch, and swallowing and humming as he drew the immense shaft ever deeper into his throat. Suddenly, the big jock lurched as if he'd just been blindsided by a 325-lb linebacker. As his body arched off the bed, he first screamed as the pain from his horrible wounds was awakened. Soon, however, he was uttering deep grunts that eventually segued into moans of sheer ecstasy. Most of what must have been an historic load naturally went directly into Robbie's stomach, though there was still more for him to enjoy. After he had swallowed the rich gift, he completed the ritual by tapping on Andy's lips with the tip of his cum-laden tongue, eventually using his tongue to clean up any remaining spots.
Needless to say, the boys took a while to recover their basic faculties. When he finally decided that he might live to go again, Rob jokingly asked Andy what had happened. "Well, Running Back," his All-American Guard had replied, "that's simple. I just got the best damned blowjob I ever had!" "Oh, come on, Big Guy," his visitor protested, "You've had plenty of good bj's." "Didn't say I hadn't," Andy replied. "I just said this was Número uno." Continuing his probing, Scottie cleared his throat before snapping, "Well, what's the difference?" "The difference?" Andy repeated. "I guess it had something to do with the giver. Beyond occasionally taking some pride in their work, most of the givers didn't give a damn about me...me as a person. What I felt in this room a little while ago was something different...something I've wanted all my life. At the same time, as I look back on my pre- teen years and on today, I damned well know that you're straight. How can you possibly be in love with me, Rob Thayer?"
"There's a pretty good working definition of a 'tragedy', bro," his friend replied. I stayed on my side of the line because I so respected your being straight - and you stayed on your side of the line because you thought me straight. And we were both wrong...tragically wrong! Let me set the record straight...uh...I mean, 'Let me make the situation clear.' Oh, hell! Whatever... I love you, Andy Cooper. I've loved you since I was able to define the feeling. You're everything that's honorable and beautiful and exciting to me. I ask you not only to be my life partner, but to join your hand with mine in marriage. Does that do it, babe?"
"Babe"? The big lug actually giggled, but Robbie watched his eyes clear...and then connect with him as they had never connected before. "I love you with all my heart...babe," the big blond said seriously. Always have... A partnership and marriage? Oh, yeah! My God, man... You're my life! (Pause.) I only hope we're not forgetting something that scares the shit out of me." Rob's face reflected his fear. He gasped as he asked, "How so, love?"
"Have you ever seen the steel girders from the World Trade Center that were twisted worse than pretzels in the terrorist attack of 2001? When I first hit those pics in school textbooks, I came close to saying that there's no force on this earth that could have done that. After the last few weeks under the care of Miller and his crowd of...patriots, I think we have to be very, very careful about denying the possibility that such diabolical power exists. It used to be that my anger was tied to growing up in the Bronx. Then it got redirected to football. Now, Rob, it's been rewired to sex...to wanting to use my cock not only to gain power, but to flay other human beings physically and psychologically - literally to tear anything good out of them just like the Aztecs tore still-beating hearts out of their sacrifices. Loving you - in making you the alpha and omega of my life - how can I take a chance on my anger redirecting itself to you? Loving life, how can I take a chance on its turning on those kids up at the camp, kids who have already suffered so much? And how much more blood do I have to spill, Rob, in trying to beat it - when I've tried so long and failed so many times?"
"Well, that's neither here nor there," Rob replied. "You say you've failed so many times. Didn't you work yourself into the ground for years helping your mother get out of the South Bronx and over to the south shore of the Island? And how about football, asswipe? Last sports magazine I saw had a three-page spread on you as the epitome of the High School All-American! Is this 'rewiring' as simple as you've suggested? Don't you have some voice in deciding how your anger will be wired next? For instance, aren't you angry about how our loved ones have been ripped away from us? And, Andy, if it's hard for us, how about the many thousands of kids whose families are gone forever? Doesn't that infuriate you? As you helped your mother and our team, couldn't you drain much of that anger by helping those kids to have a life. Not only is it a problem throughout the Northeast, but the Camp could handle many more than we're handing now.
"Hold a minute," Robbie continued. "Is it ok if I bring Dr. Hodges in here and ask him for his opinion?" Andy grunted...which Rob took as an ok. Within minutes, Dr. Hodges appeared in answer to the signal. Before anyone could say a word, the good doctor, his eyes squarely upon his patient, enthused, "Mr. Cooper, you are feeling better!" Out of pure habit, he immediately took over, checking Andy's chest and blood pressure. Inexplicably embarrassed - for he realized he had been naked pretty much since his
arrival - Andy mumbled, "Yep, I am, doc...thanks to you and this hospital. I owe yuh plenty." Whirling on him, Dr. Hodges affectionately placed both hands on top of the young man's massive shoulders. (Scottie couldn't restrain a dry snicker. It looked as if the doc's hands were resting on a enormously thick beam forged from steel, the ends of which morphed into beautifully polished stainless soccer balls!) "If that's correct, there's only one way that men can truly repay such debts," Hodges observed in his accented English. "Love your young man, love yourself, and take one more chance on suffering the pain that periodically afflicts those who love life." Turning slightly, he observed the two young men gazing deeply into the eyes of the other...and smiling.
(To Be Continued)