5 comments/ 64546 views/ 0 favorites Deliverance By: MarlboroWoman As Lexie awoke, she was not looking forward to the day ahead. It would surely bring a confrontation with Reese and she wasn't looking forward to that. Stretching to wake her weary bones, the 5'8" chestnut-haired woman walked nude to the bathroom, quickly starting a steaming shower. Under the needles of hot water, an image of her lover flashed through her still fuzzy mind. Reese stood over six feet tall and would easily be classified as every woman's fantasy. From the top of his coal black hair to the bottom of his boot shod feet, Reese was all man. Running the bar of soap over her voluptuous body, Lexie could feel his muscular yet gentle hands memorizing every curve, every hill, every valley of her trim figure. Suddenly, a chill ran through her as the pleasure was replaced with the pain. She felt his open-palmed hand slap her, felt his hands around her throat and then, felt him ramming his rock-hard cock into her tender flesh. The image of that night, and others like it caused her to scrub harder against her skin with the washcloth as if she could cleanse her soul by cleansing her body. After her skin was beet red and the water began turning cold, Lexie shut it off and stepped out of the shower. Reaching for a huge, fluffy towel, her eyes caught her image in the steamy mirror. The physical evidence of Reese's abuse was barely visible but the emotional scars ran deep. Briskly rubbing the warm towel over her damp body, Lexie jumped at the sound of the phone. A voice inside her head told her not to answer it but years of submission told her the price for not answering was too high. Reluctantly walking to the bedroom, Lexie gingerly sat on the bed and stared at the ringing instrument. Her mind showed her Reese on the other end, patiently smoking a cigarette, smiling. Damn him! "Hello?" she said into the receiver after the sixth ring. "It's about fucking time you answered, bitch. You're supposed to be out of the shower by 5:45 and you damn well know it." "I'm sorry, Reese." She could hear him exhaling a lungful of smoke. "Sorry don't cut it, slut. You better have your lazy ass dressed in the next fifteen minutes or else." The line went dead. Involuntary tears streaked down Lexie's lovely face as she replaced the receiver in its cradle. Out of sheer discipline, her mind clicked into gear as she dressed. Faded Levi's, flannel shirt, no bra or panties, high-heeled stilettos--Reese's standard "uniform" for her. But as she slipped her feet into the six-inch black patent leather shoes, something in Lexie's brain snapped and for the first time in a very long time, she could see a light at the end of the tunnel. Glancing at the clock, she calculated at least seven minutes until Reese's arrival. Quickly walking to the closet, she prayed it was still there, hidden from Reese's all-knowing eyes. Finding the rectangular wooden box, she breathed a sigh of relief. Reverently opening it, she found her salvation--the Colt 45. She removed the gun from its velvet bed and carefully loaded it. The cold steel and ivory handle felt good in her hand, as if it were made for her. Wasting no more time, she put it in the drawer of the nightstand on her side of the bed. As the antique grandfather clock in the hall chimed, she heard the knock at the door as he walked in. God, he was handsome but underneath that beautiful face and inside that fabulous body lurked a madman, a deranged, sadistic evilness the likes of which she had never seen before and, after this morning, hoped she'd never see again. "Good morning, Master." How easily the ritual words came to her newly liberated mind. She knelt before him, kissing his polished snakeskin boots. He grabbed her by the ponytail she had put in her hair, yanking her to her feet as he bruatally kissed her, biting her tongue and lips. Lexie fought back tears but knew he would get his soon enough. Ever impatient to posses her body and soul, Reese ripped the clothes off her. She stood before him in all her naked glory. The sight of her unmarred skin, her heavy tits and neatly trimmed pussy excited him and his impatience grew stronger than it had ever been before. Without much thought, he pushed her toward the bed as he unbuckled his belt. Lexie's body tensed the moment his hands started removing his boots and, subsequently, his jeans. It was now or never. She reached into the nightstand drawer and found the gun, never letting her sapphire blue eyes waiver from him. Quietly, she placed it under the pillow her head rested on and waited. Suddenly, he turned around; she was sure her plan had been discovered but, much to her relief, Reese hadn't heard a thing. Without preamble, he knelt between her spread legs and prepared to penetrate her flesh. Lexie reached under her head and found her savior. As Reese thrust forward, she brought the weapon out, aimed at his heart and pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot was muffled because of the close range of the gun to its target but Reese knew what she had done. He backed away from her, his face expressionless. His deep red blood flowed from the gruesome wound onto her snow white body. "You fucking bitch!" he roared, his hands going for her throat. For the first time in her life, Lexie wasn't afraid of him. "It's over, Reese. It's finally over." Calmly, she pulled the trigger again. The bullet found his throat, nearly decapitating him. The force of the impact threw him off the bed where he fell in a crumpled heap, destroyed. Somehow, it seemed appropriate her father should die by mortal injuries inflicted with his own gun. Deliverance ACHTUNG: If you read my last story, (Wings Over Germany) you know that there will be a lot of fluff before the actual event takes place. Be patient, patience is rewarded in my stories. The names of places and people in this story are accurate, but the events are completely fiction. Please don't look any of these people up, or I will come to your house and suck your blood. And don't let the title freak you out, there are no freaky mountain men making other men squeal like a piggy in this story. * "What the hell are we doing this for again, Captain?" I asked my flight commander. "Why do you think we're doing this Cadet Hoyt?" He responded with a question. I fucking hate it when they respond with questions. "Because the Squadron Commander hates us, sir. I mean look at this, Foxtrot flight isn't doing any of this retarded bull crap!" I decided then that I had said too much. "Hoyt, that's enough. Give me a 341 and get moving." I handed him the little demerit slip and went on my way. The retarded bull crap that we had been doing was that me and a few of my buddies from the flight had gotten in trouble, and they made us clean the latrines on all of the boys floors. This was only the second day of Mountaineer Cadet Officer Leadership School (MCOLS, pronounced emcoles), and I was already hating it. I liked the surroundings, the woods and the mountains, but we were at Concord University in Athens, West Virginia, and honestly, this hadn't been anything like I had expected. Number one, I was a Cadet Captain in our unit back in Kansas City, and here I was only a Cadet Airman First Class. Talk about a demotion. Number two, it seemed that I had been placed in the fuck up flight, and had already let the little bastards get me into trouble. I was also roomed with one of the Cadres, and I really couldn't stand having to call the whole room to attention every time the fat ass walked in. I said to my room mate one night, "I thought you had to be in good shape to be a cadre." He busted out laughing. I also had the distinct advantage of being funny and able to schmooze with the cadres, since most of them were closer to my age than the basic and advanced basic cadets, so I had my cadet group commanders ear, and it didn't help that she was pretty good looking, so I liked having her ear. Anyway, so I had gotten into trouble, and I was actually wanting to go home and see my girlfriend, since I hadn't seen her in almost a month, because of a family vacation before I came here. I wasn't sure how I was going to react to seeing her again, whether I'd even recognize her, or she would recognize me. We had been together for almost seven months, and I was as happy as a boy could be. (When I came home from this camp, about six days later, a week after I was home, she broke up with me, because she was convinced that I was cheating on her, since her bitch of a best friend had planted that idea there, but if you read on in the story, you'll find out that the idea wasn't totally bullshit.) I had wanted to go home, until I saw her. I about tripped over the person in front of me in the formation. I was in Echo Flight, 3rd Squadron, Falcon Group. That day Falcon Group had the honor of going to chow first. We were the first in the group, so we were first. Foxtrot was second, my best friend was in Foxtrot, and then Golf, then Hotel. I had noticed that Golf flight was marching next to us, and I had looked to my right, and saw the most beautiful thing on two legs that I had ever seen, up to that point anyway. I didn't know her name, or where she was from (kids from Missouri, North Carolina, West Virginia, and Virginia were at this camp), or if she had a boyfriend, or girlfriend, or if she was a virgin, but I was bound and determined to find out everything I could about her. I didn't see her the rest of that day. At the flight meeting at the end of the night, after we had dismissed, I asked my Flight Commander, Cadet Captain Merriken, when our next activity with G Flight was. "Why do you want to know?" "I have a friend in G Flight, and I wanted to talk to him." That wasn't necessarily a lie, but it would suffice for now. I did have a friend in G Flight, so once again, it wasn't total bullshit. "Tomorrow night, 2000 hours. We're playing ultimate Frisbee against them. I hope you're ready to kick some ass." "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. I'll see you in the morning." "Good night, Hoyt." "'Night Cap'n" And with that I headed to my room, where my bed and some much needed sleep were awaiting me. -------------------- My alarm clock started beeping 5 minutes before the cadres began banging on the doors to wake us up, which in my opinion was quite rude. I dressed and pulled on my Adidas running shoes, it was time for PT. I had no chance of seeing the girl during that, since everyone was dressed in the same PT gear and not our Flight shirts. After PT I was fucking exhausted. I'm not in the best of shape, 5'11" 195lbs. I'm a bit overweight, but I hide it well. We got back in formation and marched back up to the dormitory for showers and to change into our uniforms for revile, breakfast and inspection. I hated the fact that we had to wear all of our ribbons every day, since I had twenty-one, it really was a pain in the ass, and it weighed down my shirt. That was just a gripe, sorry. After I had come back down from changing into my Short Sleeve blue uniform, I saw her again. I started to walk over to her, and as soon as I was close enough to read her nametag, I saw that her last name was Milburn. Then I looked at the unit patch on her sleeve, Martinsburg High School, West Virginia. She looked up at me and we met eyes. I about collapsed. She had the most stunningly seductive eyes I had ever seen. They were olive green, and perfectly shaped. I looked back into those stunningly gorgeous eyes and smiled at her. I continued walking, and when I got over to her, I introduced myself. "Hi, I'm Jon." I extended my hand. "Nikki." She took it. "I just noticed that you have the most beautiful eyes, and I'm not just saying that, I mean, they are probably the most perfect eyes I have ever seen." I said, smiling, and feeling only slightly like an ass. "Thanks. Yours are nice, too. I love grey eyes." I loved her accent. Appalachian or southern accents are like a drug for me. I can't get enough of them. Especially on good looking girls. "Thanks. So where about are you from, Nikki?" "Hedgesville, West Virginia. Little town. How 'bout you?" "Lee's Summit, Missouri. Suburb of Kansas City." "Oh, okay, I know where that is," she giggled and smiled at me, I had my crooked smile on, the one that the girls back in town went ape for, "What flight are you in?" "Echo. And you're in Golf. I saw you marching next to me yesterday and I about tripped over the person in front of me." "Oh, what does that mean?" I think she took it the wrong way. "To me, it means that you're the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen in my almost 18 years." She flushed beet red when I said that. "Let's go, Hoyt!!! We're waiting on you!!!!" "Oh shit, gotta go. I'll see you at ultimate Frisbee later." "Bye, Jon." "Having fun with the natives, Hoyt?" my roommate, Young, asked me when I came back. "Damn right I am." I replied. "Nice of you to join us, Hoyt," the Captain looked like he wasn't having a good morning, "Let's go everybody." and we moved out. -------------------- I was sitting on the field watching my flight play Ultimate Frisbee when Nikki came over to me and sat down next to me on the grass. I almost pretended not to notice, but when a beautiful girl sits down next to you on the grass, you should look up and at least acknowledge that she sat down there. I looked over at her and smiled, she smiled back. "How're you?" she asked. "I'm okay, a little tired, and actually looking forward to getting back to Lee's Summit, even though it has to be the most boring town on the face of this planet. How 'bout you?" "I'm good. I thought about you all day. I have something to ask you." I became instantly wary. I had a girlfriend back home that I was looking forward to seeing again. I didn't want her to start something that we wouldn't be able to build upon or finish. "Okay, what is it?" "Do you have a girlfriend?" "Yeah, but I haven't seen her in almost a month, so I don't really care. And anyway the last time I was on the phone with her, at the hotel in D.C., she seemed ready to get rid of me as soon as I got on the phone with her, so for the purposes of the discussion here, no I do not. Do you have a boyfriend?" "No. I want to ask you something else." "Okay, shoot." "Do you like it here?" "Yeah, it's nice. Why?" "Do you like it well enough to stay here after the camp is over? In West Virginia I mean." Oh shit, I thought, this could have some serious repercussions. Yes, I did like it enough to stay, especially if it was going to be in the company of Nikki. But I still had another year of school left, and I also had family, and a distant girlfriend to deal with, too. I answered her as best I could. "Yeah, I like it well enough to stay in the state. I wouldn't be staying at this rinky-dink little college would I?" "No, you'd be staying with me, at my house in Hedgesville." This was getting heavy. I had some serious consequences to think about if I was going to do this. "Okay, when do you want me there?" "As soon as you can. Listen, want to meet me somewhere later tonight?" I absolutely did. And I said so. "Okay, at 1 A.M. meet me on the roof of the dorms. It's smooth, I already checked." "Alright, I'll be there, all I have to really worry about is waking up Boggess, he's rooming with me. And my Captain is at the end of the hall, too, so I'll have to dodge him as well. But, yeah, I'll be there." I smiled at her and winked. She gave me an impish grin in return, and I hoped that none of the other people in my flight saw it. It could be described as only one thing. A grin of lust. She got up and walked back over to her flight and sat down, and had a goofy smile on her face the whole time that she was talking to her friend. While I, on the other hand, was thinking about the possible consequences of being caught on the roof of the dorm with a member of the opposite sex. Get my ass kicked out of camp, sent home early, maybe suspended from school at the beginning of my senior year. But I had already told her that I would be there. "Echo Flight, let's go!" the Captain yelled. "Did we win, sir?" I asked. "Yeah, and maybe if you would participate from time to time you'd know what was going on." he chided. "Bite me, sir. Where we going now?" "Back to the dorms for our flight meeting, and then to bed. You look like you could use it." "Yes, sir, I could. Got another long ass day ahead of me tomorrow." He called us to attention at that point, and moved us out to the dorms, we sat outside and had our flight meeting, and then we were dismissed to go to bed. The time was 11:00. Two hours before my rooftop rendezvous with Nikki. I got up to the dormitory, and laid down on my bed. I laid awake until I knew that the rest of the guys in the room were asleep, which took about an hour. I had no worries about falling asleep and missing my date with Nikki. Even if I had wanted to go to sleep, I couldn't have. I kept running possible scenarios through my head, what was going to happen (I knew, but I didn't know to what extent). -------------------------- I looked at my watch, 12:50. I got up and headed out the door, careful not to shut it all the way, because then I wouldn't be able to get back in. I headed down the hall with socks on, so I wouldn't wake any sleeping snitches. I went to where the staircase was, and I was surprised that I hadn't run into any cadres or instructors on the way there. I started to climb the stairs, still in my socks. I went up until I couldn't go up anymore. I came to the door labeled 'roof access'. I gulped, and opened the door. She was already up there, waiting for me. I saw her in the moonlight, and it took my breath away. She was so beautiful. I walked over to her and put my arms round her, and kissed her for the first time. I about melted when I touched her silky lips with mine. We broke away and looked into each others eyes for a moment. She had a look on her face that said pretty plainly, 'I want you'. So I moved in and kissed her again. This time was better than the first time. I started to explore her mouth with my tongue, massaging hers with it. I broke away again and laid her down on the tar of the roof, which was fairly soft, not what I had expected. I laid down next to her and kissed her again. The same way as the last time. We remained in that position for quite a long time. Before we were finished, however, my hands had done some roaming. What they had found was a nice pair of firm breasts, which had both been explored by my right hand. Then my adventurous right hand found it's way south. It started to massage the hotspot between her legs. The thin material of her shorts was barely concealing what she knew I wanted, and I knew I wanted. I continued to stroke her happy place, and I could feel the moisture start to seep through. While I had been doing my exploring, she had been doing some exploring of her own. She had rubbed up and down my back and torso, and had also made her way south to meet someone who was dying to meet her. My girlfriend at the time called my cock The Fuhrer, and me The Kaiser. I'm mostly German, and I'm very proud of it. The Fuhrer was dying to meet Nikki. Her hands had reached under my shorts (we were both wearing the same thing, grey fabric shorts, and our respective flight shirts, hers was blue, mine green), and had found what she was looking for. By this time, if we had been naked, I would have been in perfect position to penetrate her. She was lying beneath me with her legs open, and I was in between her legs. I was sure that I had tickled her muffin a few times with my penis since I had been in this position, and that that was the reason why she wanted it so bad. She grasped it under my boxers and started to slowly stroke it. I was in heaven. I broke away. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Nothing, baby. Nothing at all," I replied. "Jonny?" I love it when girls call me Jonny I a moment of passion. "Yeah, Nikki?" "Lie back on your back. Relax, but don't let that big, hard cock of yours go anywhere." she grinned at me. Beautiful in the moonlight. I kissed her again, and did as she asked. Before she did anything else, she removed her flight shirt. I had to stop myself from gasping. She had no bra on underneath it. I was shocked, amazed, and given extreme satisfaction to know that she had prepared for this. I looked at her tits in the moonlight, they were gorgeous. I wanted to suck them. I wanted to tweak, nip at, lick and suck them. She tweaked her nipples a couple of times and got them extra hard. I gave her a look of protest. "Isn't that my job?" I asked playfully. "Next time you can make my nipples hard, although, you already had before I took the shirt off, but I just made them extra hard so you could enjoy them." "Thanks, baby. I look forward to the next time." "Me too, Jonny, me too." She had me sit up for a second to remove my shirt, and then I laid back down. She started to kiss down my torso, and down the happy trial of hair from my chest to my belly button, and then lower. She paused at the elastic strap of my shorts, and started to lower them. This was why everyone loved southern girls. They knew how to treat a man. She was looking up at me in the most mischievous way that I had seen yet. She removed my shorts completely, and The Fuhrer was begging to be released from it's prison. It had work to do. She came back up to the elastic of my boxers. Paused once, and kissed the head of my cock through the fabric. I was surprised that I didn't launch my load right then and there. I had propped myself up on my elbows and was looking down at her. When she removed my boxers the rest of the way, my throbbing hardness greeted her with enthusiasm. "Wow, I've never seen one this big," she said in surprise, "I don't know if I'm going to be able to take it all. But I'll certainly try." she grinned. I personally don't think that 6 inches is all that big, so she must have been with some small mother fuckers before me. "Do your best, honey, I'm sure it will be great." I looked at my watch, 1:30. Time was going slow. Thank God, I didn't want to get my ass busted red handed. Or blue balled in this case. She started by licking the sensitive part underneath the head, on the underside of the shaft. She licked all up and down the shaft, and took the head into her mouth. I could tell she had some experience in this area. I wondered to myself just how much experience. I might ask her. After we were done with this. She continued to take me deep into her mouth, using her tongue on the underside of my shaft and going all the way down until her nose touched my stomach. I groaned and started to flex my ass muscles to go deeper. She almost gagged, but started to take it out before I had the chance to get any deeper. She was doing such a magnificent job of this, and I was really, really enjoying it. She took me in her mouth once again, and looked up at me as she did so. I looked back into those big green eyes. I was getting close to my breaking point. She was really, pardon the expression, a good cocksucker. My girlfriend back home had sucked me before, but she was horrible at it. I always ended up having to finish it myself. As I got closer and closer, I reached down and played with those perfect, perky tits. I pinched her nipples, and massaged the area around them. I could feel them getting rock hard. I pulled her legs closer to me. She was on all fours, so this was not easily accomplished. I reached around and started to rub between her legs again. She moaned as she sucked me toward an orgasmic bliss. I took my hand from between her smooth legs, and moved them both to the back of her head. She looked up at me again. I was so close, I could feel it. The tingle and my hardness getting harder. "Oh, Nikki. I'm gonna come for you, baby. Want it in your mouth?" She nodded and made a noise that I deciphered as 'uh-huh'. I continued to push down on her head, and she took me deep again. I chose that moment to unload on her. I felt myself shoot the first of my load into her mouth. I think it actually went down her throat, and didn't even touch her mouth. She took me out a bit, but kept me in her mouth, just not as deep. I continued to unload in her mouth. She was still sucking and licking at The Fuhrer, even as it shot it's last stream. She swallowed every bit. I asked her if she liked it. "I like the fact that you came for me, that's why I swallowed it. I don't really care for the taste though." "Now it's your turn sweetheart." I looked at my watch again. 2 am. I hoped she wouldn't make too much noise, and wake someone up. I laid her on her back. I kissed her again. I could still taste myself on her. For some strange reason, it turned me on. I kissed up her jaw line, and nibbled at her earlobe for a couple of seconds. She took my left hand and put it between her legs. I could feel how wet she was. She was tired of waiting. But I was going to have my fun now. I kissed down her jaw line again, and down her neck, down her chest, in between her tits, stopping at each to lick at the nipple. She put her hands on top of my head and was gently pushing me down south. I looked up at her. She had a look of pure ecstasy on her face. Which was what I was going for. I kissed and licked my way from her tits to her navel, since I had heard somewhere that sucking a girls navel gets her so wet that she could squirt. I started to suck and lick at her navel. She drew a sharp breath, and I thought that she was going to hyperventilate. Deliverance I pulled away, and said, "Y'like that?" "Oh, yeah, Jonny, I love it." I went back to what I was doing. I snuck a peek at my watch. 2:15. Perfect. I started to go lower, and grasped the front of her shorts with both hands and began to pull them down. That's when I got my second shock of the evening. As I was lowering her cloth shorts, I noticed that she had white lace boy-cut panties on. I loved those. This girl was fucking perfect. They even had a little bow on the front of them. As I lowered her shorts, I was following my progress with small kisses, and licks here and there. I wanted those lace panties soaked by the time I got back up there. Once I got her shorts all the way off, I worked my way up her legs the same way I worked my way down. I got back to the spot that I so richly desired, I lowered my mouth over her mound, with the lace boy-cuts still on. I started to tease her through them. Using my lips and my tongue, I was giving her pleasure that I never thought was possible. I removed my mouth, and grasped the top elastic of her panties. I started to lower them. Up to this point, this was as far as I'd gone with a girl, but I had seen enough dirty movies that I knew what to do. I didn't look at her steamy pussy until I had gotten her panties all the way off. Once I had them off, I stopped for a quick sniff. I breathed in their scent. It was like a narcotic, just like the accent. I have three favorite smells in the world: pussy, the smell after you've fired a bunch of rounds out of a gun (I call it 'spent round smell'), and wood burning. I got a noseful of the first. It was wonderful. I had also accomplished my goal of them being soaking wet. I then made my way up her legs again. By this time, she was breathing so hard I thought she was going to pass out. I was getting high off of her pleasure. I had made my way all the way back up her legs, and I saw her pussy for the first time. She had a stripe straight above her slit, I call it a landing strip, or a racing stripe. It wasn't full length, she had it trimmed. It was damned sexy. I was lapping this up. I looked at my watch again. I wanted to be done by 3:30. It was 2:30. I had set a time limit so that neither of us would get caught by cadres or instructors. I had plenty of time. I began by kissing and licking and nibbling at the inside of her thigh. I then took my index finger of my left hand and rubbed the tip up and down her slit. She started to make small noises. "You like that, Nikki?" "Oh yeah, I love it." "Since I'm down here, what do you want me to do?" "You know what I want you to do." "No, honey, I think you should tell Jonny what you want." "I want you to make me come just like I made you come." "And how would I do that, Nikki? Tell Jonny exactly how you want him to make you come." "I want you to lick my pussy! I want you to lick it until I burst at the seams with pleasure! Make me come hard, Jonny!" "Okay, I can do that for you, sweetheart." I continued to move my index finger up and down her slit. I spread the lips of her hot pussy, and located her clit in the moonlight. I moved my entire mouth to it. I started to suck it into my mouth, as I stuck my fingers in her. I had two in, and it was one hell of a tight fit. I didn't think that I wanted to go for three. I continued to suck her clit. I kneaded it between my teeth, and let it go so I could tongue it. All this was making her go absolutely crazy. She was moaning and writhing under me. She was bucking her hips, and pushing herself into my mouth. I continued my tongue and finger-led assault. I slipped my fingers out of her an instead put my tongue inside her, and shifted my fingers to her clit. I rubbed her furiously as I tongue-fucked her. "Oh yeah, Jonny....Oh that's fucking great......Oh God I love it.....Oh Jonny...." I was really enjoying myself. I stopped eating her for a second and looked up at her. She had propped herself up on her elbows, and had her head back. I saw her magnificent tits in the moonlight, and as I went back to my task of making this girl feel good all over, she spoke again. "Oh yeah Jonny......Oh...Oh make me come.....Make me come so hard!!!!!" "Is that what you want? Want me to make you come, honey?" "Oh yeah, Jonny, make me come!" I obliged. I began to attack her furiously again. This time it was more than she could take. She didn't last long. "Oh yeah....Oh Jonny, oh baby, I'm gonna come!! Oh yeah, Jonny, don't stop! Don't stop! Oh yeah, oh there it is, oh yeah!!!!! Oh here it comes, Jonny!!!" At that moment, she just about squirted me in the eye. I lapped up every little bit of her juices. I loved the way she tasted. I continued to lick her, and then I made my way up from her pussy back to her navel, and up further to her tits, stopping to lick them both in turn. I then returned to her lips and kissed her deeply. She returned the gesture. I snuck another look at my watch. 3:00. Good on time. I pulled her up off her back and gave her back her clothes. We dressed in silence, looking at each other and smiling. It was a bit awkward, I wasn't sure what to say. I don't think she was either. But she understood. Sometimes silence is the greatest passion of them all. When we were dressed again, we started to walk back down to the dorms. When we got to her floor, I kissed her good night, and she went on her way. I went mine. I got to my dorm room and had time to lay down before my room mate announced his wakefulness to me. "Where the hell were you?" "Nowhere." "Don't lie, it's okay, you can tell me, I'm not gonna tell anyone." "Okay, then. I was up on the roof getting my weasel greased." "What?" "I was up on the roof getting my cock sucked." "Oh, okay. I just wondered, I hoped that wherever you were that you didn't get caught." "Yeah, that would have been bad." "Yeah." "Just a lotta-bit. Well, I guess I'm gonna try to get at least some sleep before I have to get up and run." "Yeah, that's probably a good idea. 'Night." "'Night." -------------------------------- 5 am. Cadres banging on the damned doors again. I awoke and put on my shoes and went down to PT. I fell in and we went down to the field. Did our warm up exercises, and ran our mile. After that it was back to the dorms for showers, and to change into our uniforms for inspection and chow. After chow we had drill. And low and behold which flight had the same schedule as us that day, Golf flight. As our flights marched around in practice for the commanding exercise at the end of the camp, I pulled Nikki to the side. "Hey." "Hi." "Wanna do it again?" I asked with a grin. "Yeah, I do. But I want to go all the way this time." "SCORE!!!!!!" I thought to myself. "Okay. Same time, same place?" "Yeah. I'll see you tonight." "See you then, honey. Looking forward to it." I said with a smile as I went to rejoin my flight. I was going to get some tonight. Kick ass. This was turning out to be the best trip I had ever been on. I really had no qualms about cheating on my girlfriend, since we'd had so many opportunities, and never had sex. We'd done everything else, just no penetration. It was starting to drive me up the fucking wall. "Hoyt! Please rejoin us on planet Earth!" my Captain yelled at me. "Oh, sorry, sir. What were you saying?" "I asked you if you wanted to take the flight through the sequence." "Oh, yes, sir." So I took the flight through the maneuvers, fairly well for only my second time doing it. After that, we went through the rest of our day, and finished it by playing dodge ball against Charlie flight. There was this big Asian guy in Charlie that I couldn't stand. Everyone called him 'Big Sexy'. I guess 'cause he was so goofy looking. But anyway, my flight couldn't have hit water if they fell out of a boat, so we lost. I was in such a pissy mood as I called the cadence on the way back to the dorms that one of the girls in the flight, Robin, pulled me aside and asked if something was wrong. "No, I'm okay. That big goofy Asian bastard and his mouth were pissing me off." "Oh. You gotta learn to let it roll off. Or anything will get to you." "Yeah. I have a really bad temper. It's not a good thing. It gets me into trouble a lot." "Okay. I just was wondering." "Nah, I'm alright. I just need to cool off. Well, good night, Robin." "Good night, Jon. See you in the morning." "Yeah, see you then." I went back up to my dorm room. I was so tired, I almost didn't want to go up on the roof with Nikki tonight. But I'd already said I would, so I would. I waited for 12:50 to roll around, and when it did, I woke up my room mate. "Hey, Young." "What?" "I'm going on the roof again. I'll be back." "Okay." he went back to sleep. I made my way out the door and up the stairs. Again, only in socks. When I got to the roof access door, I opened it, and found her waiting for me again. This time we wasted no time at all. There was no mystery left. We ripped each other's clothes off, until we were both naked as the day we were born. I spread our clothes out on the roof and laid her down. She opened her legs and I was right between them. I kissed her once. "You are so beautiful." I said to her in a whisper. "Do you have a condom, Jonny?" 'Fuck' I thought to myself. "No, I don't." "Oh well. I would have preferred one, but it's okay." "Are you sure?" "Yeah, Jonny, I'm sure. Now fuck me, right this minute!" "Yes, ma'am." I said with a smile. She reached down and guided me in. She was so wet that I slipped in easily. She was so tight, it felt so good. "Are you a virgin, Nikki?" "Yeah, I am. Are you?" "Yeah." She reached up and wrapped her arms around me, and pulled me down to her. She kissed me deeply, while I was still inside her. "I'll be gentle, sweetheart." I said. I started to move my 6 inches of steel hardness slowly in and out of her. Her tightness was starting to almost be unbearable. I realized that I had to pop her cherry. I started to drive deeper into her. I looked at her in her face. She was torn between pleasure and pain. So I decided to give her pain, so she could have pleasure. I drove into her as hard and as fast as I could. She let out a small whimper. And then a small scream as I pulled almost all the way out and slammed back into her. She reached down and touched her pussy. She pulled her hand back up and in the moonlight I saw a hint of red in the shining liquid. I had done it. She was mine forever. "Are you okay? Want me to keep going?" I asked, knowing what the answer would be. "Yeah, keep going. Just be a little more gentle. You said you would." "Okay, I'll be gentler, sweetheart." I continued to pump her. I was being more gentler, and it felt much better since I had gotten rid of her cherry. I felt bad since I was getting so close and she was just getting started. I reached down and started to slowly rub her clitoris as I continued to hammer her tight little muffin. The results were immediate and to my liking. As soon as I gave her the first stroke, she started to squirm. I smiled and leaned down to kiss her. It wasn't a really passionate kiss, but it was a slow, tender one. I whispered in her ear: "Y'Like that?" "Yeah, Jonny, I like it a lot." "Stroke that clit for me, sweetheart. Stroke it like it's never been stroked before." I was starting to get tired. I was up on one arm and it was really a challenge to hold up my 195lbs over her on one arm. Even if it was my strong arm. I put my other arm back on the ground and the relief was immediate. I was going so fast now. I was getting so close to the edge. She was rubbing her clit for all she was worth while I was pumping her. I looked down and I watched my cock go into and out of her a few times. I was as close as I could get without actually blowing my load in her. "I'm gonna come for you, Nikki. Where do you want it?" "I want it all over my chest, Jonny. Cover my tits with come!" I started going faster, and the moment I was about to blow my load, she came and that was it for me. I pulled out of her and brought her legs back almost touching her shoulders as I straddled her and came all over her tits. I squirted shot after shot all over her 34Cs. As I creamed all over her, she started wiping it up and eating it off of her hands. I collapsed next to her, and started to suck on her ear. After a few minutes I sat up. I kissed her again, and I said: "We should go back to our rooms. It's getting late." Once again, we dressed in silence. Three days later I was on a plane home to Kansas City. I haven't seen Nikki since, but I will never forget the time I had in Athens, WV. Deliverance Finally he awoke. Still feeling dizzy from the effects of the chloroform, Mike observed his surroundings. The cage - which stood in a windowless bunker or basement room - measured only about four or five square meters. Inspector Scott was sitting next to him, one arm around Mike, giving him a worried look. "Mike, lad! I'm here! Are you all right?" "What...? Oh... yes, Inspector. What the...! Where are we?" "I'll tell you where you are", an unfamiliar voice boomed. In the semidark room, lit only by the dim bulb of a table-lamp in the corner, Mike finally saw the man standing in front of the cage. He was a slightly heavyset Caucasian male in his late thirties, dressed unpretentiously in jeans and a T-shirt. In his right hand he held a caliber .44 Magnum semi-automatic pistol. "You're at my mercy; that's where you are!" Mike instantly remembered. "You!" he shouted. "It's you! John Wayne Gacy!" He was about to fire a series of demanding questions, but the realization of where he was made him fall silent with horror. Mouth agape, he stared at Gacy and knew this was the greatest peril he'd ever been in. And if that wasn't enough, Inspector Scott was here too! Shit! He had brought his partner and best friend in the hands of this sick-minded serial killer! "Oh my God", he mouthed quietly to himself. The Inspector gripped Mike's shoulder, and Mike looked at him. He knew Scott as someone who usually never hesitated to take charge, but right now Scott was strangely silent. John Wayne Gacy. The FBI had hired twenty-five year old investigator Mike Harris as an undercover agent in order to bait this on-the-run serial rapist and murderer of several young men; and to lead him directly into the arms of the police. It was never clearly said but implied that he was perfect for the job: Mike was a handsome young man with a lithe figure and a pretty face that made every criminal underestimate him. And he fit perfectly in the target group of that serial killer. Gacy's modus operandi was to kill young men he fancied, the prettier the better. Yes, Mike had known how dangerous the job was, but with the constant surveillance and expertise from the FBI, what could possibly have gone wrong? With the constant presence of his older, experienced partner Inspector Scott with whom he'd solved the trickiest cases of the past few years, what could have gone wrong? That was the question he pondered now. What on earth had gone wrong? How had he fallen prey to John Wayne Gacy when it should have been the other way around? "Inspector", he whispered in his native Quebec French, "the FBI is supposed to observe all my actions. If I'm gone from their radar, they'll search for me. We must try to stay alive here as long as possible! They will turn up and rescue us, it's just a matter of time." "Shut up!" Gacy bellowed and approached the cage, holding the gun close to the metal bars. "We're talking English here, got that? You better do what I say, because you already know who I am. Don't you, Agent Mike?" "Oh yes", Mike responded, "I know who you are. You are a swine, a twisted murderer who violates his victims in the most horrible ways before killing them. I've seen the photos at the FBI office. Those bodies they found under the floor of your house... Ah, yes, your house! Obviously we're somewhere else right now. What is this place, Mr Gacy? Where are we?" A wide smirk crossed the serial killer's face. "Indeed, a bright kid." He chuckled. "Just like what I've heard. Always curious, asking questions." He was close enough so Mike could see his face clearly. Gacy's eyes seemed wide and blank despite the broad smile. It gave his face an unnerving expression, and Mike found himself slightly disturbed just by looking at the man. Gacy sat down on a chair directly in front of the cage, still smiling. "Brings up old memories. You know, I've always wanted to be a cop when I was a kid." His tone was casual, and he was not even looking at Mike, as though trying to recall something. "I've also wanted to be an artist. I love painting and drawing. I mean, I do it all the time. Maybe I should show you my Snow White paintings some time. And the ones of the Indians. They're not bad at all so I don't understand why the gallery didn't want to represent me... I guess it's all part of the same system!" His voice became louder, and he got up so suddenly that the chair tumbled over backward. Waving the pistol at Mike, he shouted "You, too, are part of the fucking system and you're all the same! Motherfuckin' liars and oppressors, sending baby-faced assassins like you to get an honest citizen into trouble! I ain't a criminal! I never killed anyone in my entire life yet they hunt me down like a fucking dog!" Mike stared at him, eyes wide. They had warned him that Gacy was an unpredictable psychopath; apparently that was true. "But, you know..." Gacy continued, calming down. "I'm gonna make them pay, and I've already got an idea. I want you" - he pointed the gun at Mike - "to give him a blow job." He pointed at the Inspector. Scott finally spoke - a loud, incredulous "Excuse me?" "Shh, Inspector", Mike hissed, whispering. "Don't!" "Yeeeees", Gacy said slowly, letting the syllable drop like syrup. "That's right. Go ahead, Agent Mike. I'll be watching so do your best." Mike wondered why this demand shocked him despite he knew what kind of person Gacy was. Perhaps because it wasn't quite what he had expected. To do such things with Inspector Scott? He looked at an equally dumbstruck Inspector, then back at Gacy. The serial murderer started laughing. "Ah ha ha! Of course, how did I miss that? You've never done that before! Am I right? I should've known! An innocent lad like you, of course you're as inexperienced as you look! You'll need to practice first!" He waved Mike closer to the iron bars, then stuck the pistol barrel through the rods, his finger dangerously close to the trigger. "Here. Suck this baby. Give it a real nice blow job." As if he'd read Mike's mind, he added, "And don't try anything stupid. If I even see the slightest hint of a dumb move, I'll blast your brains right onto that floor. Got it?" Anger still dominating over his fear, Mike hissed a "yes" from between gritted teeth. Just you wait and see, Mr Gacy! The FBI would be here shortly and arrest this psychopath. "Got it?" Gacy asked. "You do exactly as I say, or your friend here will have mashed cop brains for dinner!" "Yes", Mike said more clearly, suppressing the horrible images of Gacy's victims in his mind. Kneeling on the cold tiled floor he leaned close to the shiny gun barrel. "Lick it first", Gacy said. "You gotta tease it. Always start with teasing." Mike obeyed, licking the barrel slowly and trying not to look at the man's face which was only inches away from his own. The metal felt icy on his tongue. "Good", Gacy said, voice calm. "Now you take it into your mouth. Slowly. As deep as you can." The barrel was slightly thicker than what Mike assumed to be an average penis size so he had to open his mouth quite widely. His stomach and throat seemed to revolt, protesting against that hard, cold, foreign object in his mouth. "Move your head. In and out. Slowly. You're still teasing... Keep those hands down!" Mike's hands had been twitching, eager to rip the gun away from Gacy. He forced himself to stay still and clasped his hands behind his back. He reminded himself that he had experienced worse than this. This was just humiliating but would not physically harm him. Most likely. He'd get this over with, and hoped Scott was not watching. It was hard to keep his mouth so wide open all the time, and he felt his lips and tongue getting dry. Silently, he continued sucking the gun barrel. Gacy seemed to approve; speaking no more, only making an appreciative 'mmh' sound. "Jesus fucking Christ", Inspector Scott muttered, "how long is that gonna take? Leave the lad alone already, you depraved monster!" "Shut up, old man", Gacy snapped; then in an almost gentle, low voice he said to Mike, "Good. You're learning fast. Now, suck a little harder. When your cheeks are hollow, you're doing it right." Mike followed the instructions. His facial muscles were beginning to ache, and he felt nauseous. He prayed that Gacy wouldn't push the gun further into his mouth or he would have to retch. Finally, Gacy pulled the gun away, still keeping it pointed at Mike. "Good boy." Mike realized he was shaking, either from fear or revulsion. Possibly both. Gacy's voice sounded distant. "Now, suck your friend. Just like you did with the gun." Inspector Scott spoke before Mike could prevent it, but surprisingly he managed to keep his emotions under control this time. "Mr Gacy, if you don't mind, I'll be the one doing this...! Please, don't make Mike do it. Let me do it to him instead!" "You ain't making the rules here", Gacy shouted. He was breathing heavily and now Mike noticed the bulge at the front of the serial killer's jeans. "Scott's your name, right? Well, Scott, the boy will give it to you, because you need to be ready to fuck him afterwards!" "What?" the Inspector shouted. "You sick pervert! Why would I-!" "Inspector, quiet!" Mike was close to panic, gripping Scott's arm firmly. "Calm down! We must play along, it's our only option!" To his relief, Gacy did not become enraged. He grinned, menacingly waving the gun at them both. "The lad's right, Scott. Listen to him. You both better play along now if you don't want to die." Mike put his hands onto Scott's shoulders. "Inspector, look at me. ... It's all right. I can do this." Lowering his voice, he added, "It could be worse. Better you than him, right?" The Inspector sighed, then nodded. He did not look at Mike. "C'mon, c'mon", Gacy said, waving the gun impatiently. Its barrel glistened, still moist with saliva. "What are you waiting for? ... And stand so that I can see what you're doing!" Mike told his partner to stand against the bars, then knelt down in front of him and with trembling hands proceeded to unzip the Inspector's black trousers. Hell, it felt degrading, being forced to do this, and he was a little scared - but even so, it was still lot better than anything Gacy usually did to his victims. He was Mike, he could do this! "Mike..." He looked up at the Inspector. "What?" "I'm sorry." "No, Inspector, don't be. We're both in the same boat." Opening the Inspector's pants and tugging down the waistband of gray boxer shorts, he began what Gacy had ordered him to do. Strangely, he found it rather fascinating to see how hairy the Inspector's lower belly was, just as he had sometimes guessed – in secret, of course. As he focused on the task, tasting a hint of salt and feeling wiry, dark pubic hair tickle his nose, he realized he didn't feel as repelled by doing this as he'd feared. On the contrary - with Inspector Scott, whom he knew and trusted, he felt somewhat in control of the situation. The Inspector was becoming erect and Mike found it difficult to keep his mouth open without interruption. "Yeees." He heard Gacy's hoarse voice. "Keep going." Ignoring the killer, Mike continued, feeling Scott's erection twitch as it grew to full size. His mouth felt dry and he knew he couldn't take it much longer – if only he'd had some water to drink! – but still, there were worse things. Surely this would not change anything between him and Inspector Scott, would it? Scott did not fully manage to suppress a moan. Putting a hand on Mike's head, he muttered, "You better stop now... stop, before I..." "Damn right", Gacy said, his tone chatty and casual. "You can stop now, Agent Mike. Ha! Ha! Ha! Agent Mike!" He laughed as though he'd made a joke. "Okay. I want you to stand against the bars now, facing me. Pull down your pants and let your friend take you from behind." "But..." Mike began, then realized that no amount of pleading would get him anywhere with a psychopath like John Wayne Gacy who, by the very definition of the word, was completely unable to feel empathy for another human being. "Goddamn it", Scott shouted, still breathing heavily. "You... you can't force me! I'm not gonna stay hard! It's physically impos-" Click. Gacy had released the pistol's safety and pointed the barrel at Scott's lower body. "It will be physically impossible if I shoot your dick off, cop!" Mike instantly held onto the Inspector, and for a moment there was silence as they both stared at Gacy, holding onto each other, frightened. Inspector Scott was still hard, his arousal poking against Mike's thigh. "Don't provoke him", Mike whispered. "I don't want you to get hurt or dead! I'm sure the police will bust in here any time. Let's do whatever we can to win precious minutes." At Scott's worried gaze, he added, "It's all right, Inspector. Better you than him, right? Let's do it now. Be gentle, okay?" "Damn it, Mike", Scott muttered, blushing. Quickly and silently Mike unzipped his jeans and pulled them down along with his underpants. The embarassment he felt at being so exposed to the world's presently most notorious serial killer was nothing compared to the anxiety rushing through him – he'd never done it with a man before! And there was the disappointment and anger that it would be like this. This was a nightmare! "Your pullover and shirt too", Gacy commanded. "And you'll need this." He threw something into the cage, and Scott picked it up. It was a small tube and looking at the label Mike realized it was a lubricant. He continued undressing without looking at the killer. The air was cool, and soon he shivered. Bending over slightly and holding onto the bars, he tried to relax, to somehow prepare himself for what was to come. "Okay, Inspector. Go ahead." John Wayne Gacy was chuckling, apparently enjoying the show. "C'mon, cop, he's already asking for it. Christ, just look at that pretty boy. I've known quite a few of 'em, but this one's exquisite." He was standing close to the cage, still holding the gun pointed at Mike. "Such a delicate build. And his skin looks so soft. I bet you've been wanting to touch it for a long time. Go ahead, feel it!" Dear God, if only that pervert would stop babbling! Mike felt Scott's hands on his thighs, hesitatingly caressing him. Then the Inspector, standing behind him, did something else, probably using the lube, and then Mike felt something push inside him and he gasped at the sudden stretch. "Relax, it's just one finger", the Inspector whispered. "Does it hurt?" Despite the generous amount of lubricant it felt quite tight, and very strange. Mike shook his head. I should be glad, he told himself, that it's the Inspector doing this, and not someone else! He tried to detach himself mentally from the situation but it was impossible. Fear was keeping him on the edge and his senses alert. Scott continued fingering him, gently pushing it in and out. His other hand was still resting on Mike's hip, wandering to his groin. "Y'know, Mike, let me make it a little less awful for you. Do you want...?" Mike instantly objected. "No! Don't touch me there!" Great snakes, how could he possibly allow himself to become aroused in front of this dangerous perverted bastard? Too late. He heard Gacy's familiar, casual voice. "But why not, Agent Mike? You're a virgin, aren't you? Don't you want to enjoy your first time?" He switched to a commanding, harsh tone. "Go fuck him, old man. And jerk him off, too. Make sure he likes it!" Throwing one quick glance at Gacy, Mike noticed that the killer still was holding the gun, but now was also rubbing himself through his jeans. Only rarely had Mike ever felt hate, and right now he had a lot of it. If only that cage were not between them! Then he would erase that smug expression from Gacy's face with a well-placed punch. "Ow!" It hurt when Scott, slowly at first, entered him. As Gacy had ordered, he was stroking Mike at the same time, an efficient but gentle hand job. Closing his eyes, Mike told himself to relax, to just let it happen. He had to admit the Inspector's touch felt good and experienced. Getting aroused, he bit his lip and gripped the iron bars more tightly, as though to direct his energy elsewhere. "I'm so sorry", Scott muttered close to Mike's ear. "I'm sorry." "Shut up and continue", Mike panted. He whimpered as the Inspector pushed deeper into him. Damn, it was painful, that big thing inside him, filling him out. Oh dear God. His eyes filled with tears, and he was glad Scott could not see it from there. It'll be over soon, relax, it'll be over soon... He kept his eyes closed so he wouldn't have to see Gacy standing in front of him. Again the murderer spoke, and his voice sounded triumphant. "Whoa there, Agent Mike! Crying already? It's a tad too much for you, isn't it? A big cock like that, on your very first time!" There was a low giggle. You swine! If I had that gun...! When would the FBI finally arrive? Was this place so faraway and godforsaken that they couldn't find him? The demon of hopelessness was teasing him, telling him what would await him if the police did not arrive in time. The stimulation from Scott's hand sent hot, tingling rushes of arousal through him, undermining his pride. In addition he felt a strange thrill at the sensation of the Inspector's other hand on his body – it was so large and warm, rough from years of hard work, and he wondered if those hands were actually big enough to close around his waist. Maybe almost. He felt Scott slide out of him and then back inside with one gentle thrust, and gasped at the returning pain. His legs were shaky, and his hands, damp with sweat, started to slip from the iron bars despite his firm grip. Scott must have noticed it for he stopped stroking Mike and tried to keep him steady. "Relax, my boy", he muttered, leaning further over Mike's back, embracing him with strong arms around Mike's waist and chest. "Relax. Be strong. It'll be over soon." "No..." Mike panted, tried to focus. "You... you must keep going." Dear God, it was a matter of life and death! When Gacy was finished having fun with them, he'd kill them, just as he had done with twenty or thirty other men and boys. For what felt like several minutes there was silence, except for the Inspector's heavy breathing as he continued thrusting into Mike. His warm, solid torso, still inside that blue shirt, felt comforting against Mike's bare skin – protective, reassuring. Mike inhaled the familiar scent; slightly musky, sweaty, with a hint of tobacco. Even though the penetration still hurt, it was becoming easier to bear. Once again he heard Gacy's distant voice. "Yeah... now it's getting better, isn't it, Agent Mike? They all get used to it after the first shock fades... Is it feeling good already? Your body clearly likes it." A creepy laugh. "Go to the devil", Mike muttered in his native French. Gacy ordered the Inspector to go harder, faster; which Scott did. Whimpering and moaning, Mike rested his forehead against the cold iron bars and tried to focus on something else. It still hurt a little and was starting to feel raw, but it was also strangely stimulating somewhere deep inside him, sending tingly shivers through his body. "All right", Gacy shouted, stomping a foot onto the floor to get their full attention. "Time for a change! You-" he pointed at Mike, "lie down on the floor, on your back; and he'll take you like a woman. ... It's nice because you can look into each other's eyes! Ah ha ha!" For some reason he seemed to think that was funny. Quietly, Mike and Scott did as he told them to, and Mike arranged his clothes on the floor so he could lie down on them without feeling the icy cold tiles on his bare skin. Deliverance "Here, take this too", Inspector Scott said and took off his shirt, revealing a strongly built body covered in wiry, dark hair. He spread the shirt onto Mike's clothes, and Mike lay down. "You still okay, lad?" Mike nodded silently, still feeling humiliated and increasingly desperate, but at least the Inspector was doing his best to hurt him as little as possible. He opened his legs and Scott knelt between them, applying more lube onto his still-hard erection. Then Mike felt himself being lifted by secure, large hands under his bottom, and he pulled his legs further back, not entirely sure what to do with them. With a groan, Scott entered him deeply, leaning forward over Mike and draping the young man's legs over his shoulders. Their faces were close to each other, and Mike couldn't bring himself to look away from Scott. The Inspector's face was flustered and shiny with sweat, black eyes gazing at him with previously unknown intensity. It was an expression Mike had never seen on this face before. So that's what he looks like during sex. It was something Mike had not actually ever wanted to know, but now the fact was there, literally staring into his face. "Mike, I can't..." He paused. "I can't any longer. Or I'll come." "They'll be here soon", Mike whispered, heaving and panting. "We'll be saved soon. Keep going. Take it slow." He put his arms around Scott, feeling tense muscles under hot skin and marveling at how broad and strong those shoulders were. Maybe the Inspector needed some encouragement...! "It doesn't hurt anymore", he said. A little white lie. "I can bear it just fine. Keep going." He actually preferred this position over the previous one. Here the Inspector was over him like a shield, as though to guard him from whatever evil was out there. It was strangely intimate. There was a series of loud metallic clanking sounds as Gacy hit the iron rods with the gun barrel. "Hey there! What'cha waiting for? Fuck him harder! Can't you see he wants it? Make him scream!" Mike brought his mouth so close to Scott's ear that he was sure Gacy could not see him speak, and whispered in French, "It's okay, Inspector... Do what he says. I'm gonna get a bit louder, but don't be afraid. I'm just faking it, all right?" It seemed that Inspector Scott was hesitating at first, perhaps unsure if Mike could really handle him, then he moved faster. Initially Mike was not sure how the insane pervert wanted him to react; how to make it look 'real'. The arousal was there, all right. No sense in suppressing it, was there? Maybe he should close his eyes... He let out a sigh. Unable to fight the pleasant tingling sensation that was getting stronger - much stronger - with each of the Inspector's rough thrusts, Mike's reactions soon came of their own accord. Writhing, moaning, arching his back towards Scott above him and clinging to him hungrily, gasping and crying out along with the Inspector's rhythm, Mike soon forgot the place around him. There was a distant, "You... you all right, boy?", in Scott's voice, but even when Mike finally understood the words he found himself unable to respond. Mon Dieu, why was his face so tingly and tense? Eyes closed and mouth open, the only reply he managed was a low cry. "You ain't faking that, are you?" the Inspector muttered in French, pausing. "Wha...?" Mike half-opened his eyes, seeing the Inspector above him... why was he stopping? ... just when it had started to feel perfect...! "More", he mouthed, and not having heard his own voice, he tried again, louder. "More!" Scott continued, taking him with a hard, rhythmic staccato. Mike moaned and shouted, dear God, he needed release, needed it badly- "Mike..." The Inspector's voice was distant and low. Then it was gone, everything was gone - he could not hold back anymore and surrendered to the climax, spilling his seed between their bodies. What in hell... what...? He lay there on the hard floor, heaving and his mind in a dizzy mess, but he already felt cold tiles touching his skin where the clothes had slipped away from under him. Suddenly the Inspector was gone. Mike felt a breeze of cool air on his body, and realized he was naked, totally naked, and there was - ô mon Dieu! The insane, sick-minded serial murderer! Still breathing heavily, he perceived how the hazy fog, that strange lust that had clouded his mind, faded away, allowing harsh reality to sink in. Fuck! What had he done? He had let himself go, allowed to be overwhelmed with pleasure! In this place, of all places! And he had come. There was sticky stuff all over his stomach. "Inspector?" he muttered . "Where...?" He tried to sit up, but winced when he felt the pain. Looking around he did not see the Inspector. Panic rose up inside him. Then there was the other man, John Wayne Gacy, in front of him, and Mike felt his blood pressure drop as dizziness and dismay threatened to overtake him. This was the end! He was exhausted, naked, vulnerable, helpless. He wanted to scream. "... buttered bun", he heard John Wayne Gacy say. "Don't you know that expression?" Mike stared at him, slowly shaking his head. "What-?" "That's what you are, a buttered bun." Gacy was smirking. "It's what they call you when you're still all wet and slippery inside from having sex with a man." He approached Mike, kneeling before him, and reached for Mike's shoulder, trying to push him back down. "I've never had a buttered bun before. You'll be my first one." The gun was apparently gone, but Mike was aghast to realize that Gacy now held something else in his other hand. What was that? A wire? Not just a wire, but a strong metal cord with wooden pieces on its ends– a garrote. "No", Mike shouted, twisting under Gacy's grip, "no! Please, no!" "Keep still!" Gacy's face contorted with anger as he positioned himself between Mike's open thighs while at the same time trying to keep Mike down and sling the garrote around his neck. He was stronger than he looked, and Mike had barely any energy left for a struggle. "Keep still or you die!" The killer was panting heavily, grinding himself aggressively against Mike. "Goddamn it! ...Don't touch him!", someone screamed. It was the Inspector who pulled at Gacy's shoulders trying to get him away from Mike, but then the garrote tightened around Mike's neck. Cold hard wire was biting into his skin. "Let go" Gacy barked, "or your boyfriend will die!" This was the end...! Stifling a sob, Mike made a final desperate attempt to dig his fingers under the wire, trying in vain to loosen its hold around his neck. In the same moment he heard the thundering footsteps. Running. Shouting. Doors crashing open. Before Gacy even had a chance to realize what was happening, the heavily armed police squad in bulletproof vests was all over the room. "FBI! FREEZE!" . . . They sat in the head office of the Federal Bureau of Investigation's headquarter in Washington D.C. where the director of the FBI personally offered them apologies and a generous compensation in exchange for their discretion about what had gone wrong in the Gacy investigation. Though Mike liked the idea of writing a report exposing the FBI's grave mistakes in the hunt for a dangerous serial killer, right now he was more glad to have gotten out of this mess alive – and Inspector Scott, too. He knew he wouldn't be able to forgive himself should anything have happened to the Inspector. Time to go back home to Canada. As they waited in the hallway for the officers who would pick them up to drive them to Dulles Airport, Mike sipped a mug of hot cocoa. He sat on a designer chair, huddled in his trench coat, the Inspector next to him. There was an awkward silence, and Mike realized that things between them wouldn't be quite the same any more after what they had gone through. "You know", the Inspector began, "I still can't believe what I did... I'm so sorry." He did not look at Mike. Mike sighed. It was he who should be ashamed, not Scott! Never would he have guessed that he could actually enjoy sex with a man... even if that man was his longtime partner and best friend and he was totally comfortable around him. It was simply wrong! Seems like I'm more Catholic than I knew, he thought wryly. "There's nothing to apologize for", Mike replied. "What we did probably saved our lives. We had no choice, you know that." Looking at Scott, he saw the Inspector blushed. "Well... lad, I'm not sure if I got that right... but... say, did you like it?" Now it was Mike's turn to blush all the way to his ears. He made an half-hearted attempt to hide some of the redness behind the cocoa mug and tried to think of an answer. Saying he liked it? Dear God, but it was wrong! Saying he did not like it? Then Scott would feel awful! "Ah, forget about it, I'm sorry!" Scott waved his hand through the air. "It was a stupid, selfish question! I just..." His voice was lower. "If you actually liked it... I mean, I would feel less horrible about what I did, you know? But, nevermind." Mike nodded, biting his lip, too embarassed to look at him. He drank another sip of cocoa. There was something he just couldn't understand. If it had been wrong so why had it felt so good at the end? . . . Finally they were at Dulles Airport, in an almost-empty gate from where their flight would depart in four hours. Inspector Scott had been strangely silent for most of the time, and Mike thought he must feel like the scum of the earth about what had happened, even though there was no reason to. Feelings weren't rational. Yet maybe it was worth reassuring him again. "Inspector", he said shyly, "I'm quite all right, you know." "You are, lad?" He didn't sound entirely convinced. Time to get it out. Be brave, Mike! "If Gacy had forced me to have sex with any person of my own choice, any person on earth... I would have chosen you." Scott stared at him, then his gaze wandered around the room for a few seconds before returning to Mike's. "I... um, well..." Damn it, Inspector, say something! Mike felt shaky, and he knew he couldn't hold back the words any longer, the thoughts he'd been thinking almost every minute since they'd left Gacy's hiding place. "It was wrong", he blurted out loudly. "It was so wrong! But then why did it feel so good? Why?" He didn't understand himself any more. What was the matter with him? Unable to contain himself he started to cry, and immediately felt comforting, strong arms embracing him. "Ssshh, there, my boy. It's all right. It's all right." The Inspector felt warm and strong and solid, and Mike inhaled the familiar scent of tobacco. "I don't want to lose you, Inspector", he sobbed. "It wasn't so great at first, but then... I wanted it! I wanted you!... But why? Th- there must be something wrong with me!" Now Scott gently put a hand under Mike's chin, forcing him to look at him. Their faces were so close Mike could feel the Inspector's breath. "Michael" - it was a rare occasion, usually serious, when he used Mike's full name, "You know what I think? I guess maybe you wanted to enjoy it, with death looming near...! This first time of yours could have been your last! Consider that. Of course you reacted the way you did. And, by the way, if there's something wrong with you – then there's also something wrong with me." Mike hugged him more tightly, burying his face in Scott's blue sweater. He needed to sort out his thoughts before being able to form a coherent response. "Don't worry, lad", Scott said, holding him firmly in his arms. "We'll be all right." - the end