Richard's Story
by: Will B
(© 2008 by the Author)
Advisor: E Walk

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Aided, abetted, encouraged and edited by EW and GY,

Who are two of the nicest guys, editors, mentors, I have met

ever since I started posting in April 2007.

Nathan and Joshua stood up, and took each other’s hand. “Dads, I guess you better know that we . . . that we . . .  that we love each other, in every sense of the word,” Joshua said.

“Troy and I have suspected as much for some time. All I can say is, love each other deeply, and act responsibly. I will ALWAYS love the two of you.”

“And so will I,” said Troy.

Despite their nakedness, Nathan and Joshua moved to hug their dads.

Richard said, “Why don’t you two put some clothes on and come downstairs, and we’ll have some of what Mama used to call her ‘special coffee,’ and we’ll talk.”

Richard and Troy went downstairs to make that ‘special coffee,’ and the boys got dressed, still grieving for their grandfather but comforted by the knowledge that their two dads loved them.

Part 11

The four men sat around the kitchen table with coffee cups filled with a delicious smelling brew. Richard brought out a bottle of whiskey and poured a generous dollop into each cup.

Richard raised his cup as if in a toast and said, “To Nathan and Joshua! May their love for each other continue to grow.”

“Cheers!” the others responded.

“Boys,” he continued, “You will be starting classes at the community college in a few weeks. You will meet many people. I’m sure I don’t have to warn you about ‘taking candy from older men!’ There is something you need to keep in mind, however. There will be people who will urge you to try ‘an unusual cigarette’ or ask if you want to do something that will be ‘the greatest rush in the world.’ Be careful.”

“Dad, you know Joshua and I don’t smoke. We swim and we run, and smoking would cut down on our breathing abilities,” said Nathan.

“If I ever thought either of you were taking something you shouldn’t, I swear I’d…I’d beat your asses,” said Troy with a smile.

“Ooooohhh! Would you, Uncle Troy? Would you put your handsome, strong hands on our bare backsides? Ooooohh! That might be soooo much fun!” Joshua said, with a smile and wink at his surprised Uncle Troy.

<Sounds of good-natured laughter>

A few days later, Joshua and Nathan graduated from Baltimore City College with grade point averages of 4.0. Their counselor, Mr. Schwartz, had asked them several times why they didn’t apply to one of the Ivy League colleges. He encouraged them, saying that with their grades and their athletic prowess, they should have no trouble getting scholarships.

Joshua and Nathan had listened thoughtfully, and then told Mr. Schwartz that they just hadn’t decided on what careers they wanted to follow, and they wanted to take some general courses at a local community college for a year or so.

A few days after high school was over, Joshua and Nathan had gone to Reuben’s, their favorite deli, for lunch. At first they didn’t notice a young man in his late twenties, wearing brown slacks and a tan short-sleeved shirt, sitting at another table, reading a magazine. Later, they probably wouldn’t have noticed him either, except for the snakes tattooed on his arms.

The next day they went to Reuben’s again, and the same man was there. He looked up, nodded and went back to his reading.

The third day, the tattooed guy was there again. When they were seated with their lunches, the man looked up and said, “Hello.”

Josh and Nate replied, “Hi.”

As they were finishing their lunch, the man came over to their table and said, “Gentlemen, might I have minute of your time?”

“Sure.”

“Thank you. Let me give you my card.” Josh and Nate looked at the business card which read ‘Alexander Simms Porter, Representative. Ace Modeling Agency. Phone: 555-2469.’

“Gentlemen, my agency is always looking for young people who might like to make some money by modeling swim-wear, athletic equipment, and so on. You two look like you keep yourselves in good condition. Do you think you might like to make some money being photographed in swim suits, Bermuda shorts, and so on?”

“Well, sure,” both boys replied. Now Richard and Troy were not poor, and the boys had a good allowance, but the chance to earn some money just for standing around in comfortable clothes was too good of an opportunity for the two young men to pass up.

“Why don’t you come to my studio? We’ll take a few shots, and send them to agency headquarters and if they like them, we’ll talk about contracts. Now, as a sign of my good faith, I’ll pay you each $50.00, cash, for a couple of hours work, maybe this afternoon—or tomorrow afternoon, if you have plans for this afternoon?”

Nate and Josh looked at each other, and nodded, and said, “Today would be fine, Mr. Porter.”

“Great! Here’s my address. It’s twenve-thirty now. Shall we say two o'clock?”

“ OKAY! We’ll be there.”

* * * * *

At two o'clock, Nathan and Joshua arrived at the address. They had gone home, showered and shaved, and went to make some ‘easy money.’

They went in and found a large room with large lights and cameras, and a desk with one office chair behind it, and two comfortable chairs in front of it. On the desk were two photograph albums.

Porter welcomed them and invited them to sit down. He showed them the first album, which was filled with pictures of young men and women in tennis outfits, swimsuits, and walking shorts. All the models were young, good looking, and in great physical condition.

“Now, gentlemen—or Nate and Josh, if I may call you that—today I thought I would take some shots of you in swim trunks and some shots of you in tennis whites.  The changing rooms are through that door. You will find shelves with new clothes in various sizes. Pick things that will fit, and of course, whatever you wear will be yours to keep, in addition to the money I'm paying you.”

Impressed with the organization of Porter’s studio, and elated at the thought of the money they would be earning, both young men went into the changing rooms, and selected bikini-style swim trunks, and walked back into the studio.

For an hour Porter posed them, singly and together, standing, sitting, kneeling, smiling, laughing, looking like two young guys having a great day at the beach. He made absolutely no attempt to touch them or to ‘arrange’ their bodies in a more ‘comfortable’ pose. He was strictly professional.

Strictly professional in all ways but one! His camera had no film in it!

After an hour he said, “Let’s take a break, guys. Sit down and I’ll go get some iced tea.”

While he was out of the room, Nate picked up the other photograph album. “Wow, bro., look at these!”

Nate and Josh looked at an album filled with glossy color photographs of sexy young studs who were not wearing any swimsuits, shorts—not wearing anything at all. The first few pages were filled with pictures of solo studs, standing with their packages prominently displayed, or with their delectable, touchable, butt cheeks pointed provocatively toward the camera. One picture showed a hot hunk who had just pleasured himself, and his chest and abdomen were covered with hot creamy man-juice.

The next pictures showed two young men jacking each other off.  Then there were pictures of guys engaged in satisfying each other in a sixty-nine position. There were also pictures of men fucking men.

“Think you’d like to pose with me in some of those shots?” Nathan asked quietly.

“Sure thing, hon, or should I say my adorable hunk?”

The last group of pictures were not so attractive. The brothers gasped when they saw men chained in cages or slings, being pinched, whipped, or prodded with what looked like cattle prods. All the ‘victims’ had smiles of bliss on their faces.

Nate and Josh sat there dumbfounded. They had no idea that people willingly put up with such sadistic treatment and seemingly enjoyed it.

Porter came in with a tray of glasses filled with iced tea. He hurriedly put it down on the table, and said, “Oh, my goodness gracious me. I didn’t mean for you two to see these pictures. We have some requests from certain customers for these ‘special’ pictures. Don’t let them bother you. I would never dream of asking two fine young men like yourselves to pose for pictures like these! Here, have some iced tea.”

Nathan and Joshua each took a glass of tea and took a hardy gulp of iced tea.

* * * * *

When Joshua regained consciousness, the first thing he realized was that it was dark outside. No sun shone through a tiny window high in the wall.

The second thing that he realized was that he could not move much. He was lying on his back, spread eagled with his arms and legs tied at the corners of his bed.

The third thing that came to his mind was that he was hurting all over his body. No, wait! His naked body. He could raise his head enough to see that he was completely naked.

A groan from across the room made him realize that his brother was tied up in the same way as he. A dimly lit lamp gave enough light so that Joshua could see his brother’s body was covered with puncture marks and what appeared to be—yes, they were! Cigarette burns!

“You OK, Nate?” Josh asked.

“Dunno! I hurt like hell. There must have been something in that iced tea.”

“Yeah, Nate, I hurt too. I think that bastard must have tortured us while we were out.”

“Josh, if we ever get out of here I’m gonna . . . “

“Listen, Nate. Can you move your feet at all?”

“Not much . . . Just a little bit. Why?”

“Listen, Nate, we’ve got to use our leg muscles to ‘kick’ our way out of these ropes. Can you try?”

The door opened and Porter came in. “Oh, good, I see my guests are awake. Now we can have some real fun! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!”

“Let us out of here, Porter, or what ever your name is,” Josh demanded.

“All in good time, my pretties. First, we have a special order to fill. A customer wants some shots of blow jobs, so just get ready to  . . .  suck  . . . my . . . dick.”

Porter pushed a button and Joshua’s bed began to revolve on its long axis, and soon Joshua’s head was facing Porter’s penis, just at its level.

“Oh, and by the way, slut-boy, if you have any ideas of biting me, I’ll bite your brother’s cock so hard it will be two inches shorter—PERMANENTLY!” Ha ha ha ha ha ha!”

With that Porter thrust his cock into Joshua’s face and said “Lick it first. Taste my precum. Make me feel sooooo good!”

Joshua had no choice but to give Porter what he wanted—a blowjob. When Porter had spilled his semen into Porter’s mouth he said, “Now swallow it, my little cunt slave!”

While this was going on Nathan had the idea of pretending to enjoy what he was seeing. “Me next. Me next. Let me have a taste of your cum, Mr. Porter. Please, sir. Ooooohhhh. Aaaahhhhhh.”

Pretending to be in euphoric ecstasy, Nathan began bucking his body up and down and kicking his feet. ‘Thank God, I can feel these ropes give a little,’ he thought to himself.

When Porter turned his attention to Nathan, Joshua took up the cry. “Oh, master, please hit me. Burn me again. I want to feel the wonderful pain.” Joshua began moving his arms as much as he could, and while Nathan was licking Porter’s dripping penis, Joshua could feel the ropes give way a little.

After four rounds of alternating torture techniques between the two brothers, Porter stopped and grinned at his two captives. “I’ve really enjoyed this, you two bitches. I’d like to keep you indefinitely, but I have another client who has paid me big bucks for a ‘snuff film.’  Do you know what a ‘snuff film’ is?”

“N-n-n-o-o,” both boys answered .

“Ahhh! No, I guess you don’t. It’s a film where the predator (that’s me) captures a young boy or boys (that’s you) and tortures him or them, and then puts his victims to death. But, aaahhh, these things must be done delicately. The last of you to go will see the other one die. Ooooohhhh! Aaaaaahhhhh! I can hardly wait. I can feel my balls starting to curl up I’ll probably shoot another load of my hot man-milk while I film this!”

Porter (a.k.a. ‘Snake,’ for it was he!) went out of the room, not realizing that Joshua had gotten his hands and legs free. When the son-of-a-bitch came back in the room, carrying a tray of devilish looking instruments, it took him only a split second to see Joshua was not in the bed.

No! Joshua was behind the door, and he hit Porter over the head with a lamp, and knocked him out. Joshua quickly tied him up (but he didn’t do too good a job of it), and then set Nathan free. They ran into the changing rooms, put on jockstraps and flip-flops, and grabbed their clothes and car keys, and ran out of the door to jump in the car. It was after 2:00 a.m., and there was nobody around.

As they started the car, they heard Porter running out onto the sidewalk. “I’ll get you,” Porter yelled as he ran for his car.

Joshua turned the key in the ignition and felt the engine come to life. They drove as fast as they could, to get away from their pursuer. Faster and faster they drove, into the center of town, going through a number of red lights, to Green Street then south on Green until they found themselves on the Baltimore-Washington Parkway, heading for the capital.

Every time Joshua looked in the mirror, he could see the lights of a car behind them. Thinking it was Porter, he pressed the ‘pedal closer to the metal.’ Sixty miles an hour, sixty-five, then seventy and then eighty, faster, faster.

‘Get away. Got to get away,' Joshua thought to himself.

 Eighty, then eighty-fivemiles per hour, and then ninety. The car began to vibrate.

Joshua suddenly realized that he was no longer able to control the car, but all he could think of was getting away.

The car approached a curve, but Joshua could not turn the wheel.

The car hit the guardrail, and went through the rail and began tumbling down an embankment until it hit a tree.

The last thing Joshua thought was, “At least I got Nathan away from that . . . .”

Bang! Bang!

Then silence.

* * * * *

The next morning, Richard and Troy were at breakfast. “Troy, did you hear the boys come in last night?”

“No, love I didn’t, and I don’t see their car in front of the house.”

The phone rang, and Troy picked it up, and heard Sgt. Mulrooney at the station tell him the worst news a parent can hear.

* * * * *

This is the end of Richard’s Story as a separate narrative. The events in the lives of Richard and Troy will be continued in “Cousins All.”

Feedback always welcome, because your messages feed my imagination.     

Posted: 08/08/08