Date: Fri, 3 Sep 2010 12:50:59 -0500
From: s x <notutopia@gmail.com>
Subject: Vacation to Abomination part 3

WARNING: This chapter contains violence, profanity, and intercourse between
adults and youth.  It is the sole creation of the writer.  Feel free to
contact me at the above email.

Vacation to Abomination, Part 3
By Peter Roman

     Someone woke me up by tapping on my shoulder.  I was so groggy I could
barely move.

     We were in front of a large two story house.  The house looked plain
and old, and it had a dark gray roof, bluish gray walls, and strange, tiny
windows.  It also looked like it had once been an inn, but was now either a
private residence or vacated.

     Everyone left their vehicles and went inside.  The interior was very
dim and drab, and even the furniture was ordinary and aged.

     We went to a large dining area.  There were four people there to
assist us, and they were speaking in their native tongue and broken
English.  They looked like thugs with their dark clothes, beefy bodies, and
hardened stares.  I noticed one guy even had what looked like a gun on his
right hip.  Ironically, the head thug seemed to be a stern, heavyset
granny, who may have been the mom of one or two of the others.  At one
point, I also thought I saw a younger woman outside with one of them.

     There were twelve of us customers, as X referred to us as.  There were
X and Y, but no Z; I think he stayed in the states.  There were two wealthy
men, one older and one middle aged.  I think the one may have traveled with
X and me from the airport.  Then there were the three from the restaurant.
From eavesdropping, I learned that one of them was a college football coach
and the other was a professor at the same college.  Then there were D and
the other guy from Vinny's.  I started to realize they were undesirables,
probably because they weren't wealthy.  Finally, there was a man and his
adoptive son.  The man was in his mid 40s, but looked great for his age: he
had a tall, muscular build and rugged, handsome features.  His son was
Filipino and in his late teens or early 20s.  He was also small and
americanized.

     Almost everyone kept to his respective clique, and X acted as the
middleman.  However, D and the other guy from Vinny's were loners, and they
mostly hung outside and smoked.  Meanwhile, I kept dosing off or watching
the professor's son, who looked cold and bored.

     Soon, the thugs started to collect customers and escort them to their
rooms.  Not surprisingly, the first group consisted of X, Y, coach,
professor, his son, and the two rich guys.

     It started to get so stuffy inside I left.  The Filipino's dad was
outside, and he offered me a cigarette.  I held up my hand to decline it.
"Thank you, though," I responded.

     He paused.  "Your first time here?" he asked.

     "Yeah."

     "You come alone, or did someone bring you?"

     "X did."

     He looked at me quizzically.  "Hmm, you don't seem to be like him."

     "That a bad thing?"

     His eyes bulged some.  "You don't want to be like him.  Of course,
don't go tell him I said that."

     "It's okay.  I can tell he's an asshole."

     He seemed to ponder for a few seconds.  "Honestly, he was probably
trying to prep you."

     "For what?"

     "I don't think I want to know."

     "And now he's not interested?"

     "I mean, you're younger, good looking—just not the sick fuck he was
looking for."

     "I guess that's a good thing."  I paused for a second.  "So he's the
leader of this—thing?"

     "He wishes."

     "Who is then?"

     "I think you'd be surprised."  He knew my interest was piqued.  "And
no, I'm not telling," he said, laughing.

     One of the thugs poked his head out.  The dad disposed of the
cigarette, and we walked inside.  However, the thug held up his hand when I
tried to follow.  "You be next," he said.

     D, dad, his son, and other guy left with the thugs.  It pissed me off
I was the last guy chosen, but I wasn't surprised, since this was my first
time here.

     After about ten minutes, one of the thugs came for me.

     He brought me to one of the back rooms on the first floor.
Immediately, I noticed a mildly stale odor.  The room itself was darker and
stuffier than the hallway, and it was simple with a full-sized bed, small
dresser, and wooden chair.

     The one guy from Vinny's was kneeling and sucking a boy, who was lying
on the bed.  The guy's pants and boxers were down to his knees, and his
shirt was off.  His back was so hairy it grossed me out.

     The boy looked like he was around sixteen, unless a hard life had aged
him.  He was about 5 feet 10 inches and around 120 pounds.  He also had a
buzzed head and pallid skin, making him look even more like a starved
animal.  He had bruises on his upper body and a shiner to his right eye.
His pupils were big, and he was dazed.  His cock was long, thick, and
uncut, and it only ever got semi hard.  Finally, he had a simple, crude
symbol tattooed to his left chest.

     I started caressing his long abdomen and thin bush.  The guy yanked on
my shirt to get me to kneel, and I did.  Immediately, he started grabbing
my groin, and I pulled his hand away.  A few seconds later, he was at it
again, so I just let him.

     Soon, I started licking and nibbling on the boy's cock, which had a
slight fish taste and smell.  However, the guy was near my face and
breathing on me.  His breath reeked of cigarettes, so I got turned off.  I
backed away a little, and the guy sprung up and began grinding his cock
against the boy's crotch.  "Fuck you hard, bitch.  How's that sound?" he
grumbled to the boy, as the boy lied there emotionlessly.

     Just then, I could hear fucking across the hall.  Soon, the guy was
fucking the boy, and I crept to the door to look out.  I noticed a door
open, so I went over and peeked in.

     The Filipino was lying on the bed with headphones on.  He was naked
and zoning out to his music.  His cock looked like a dark slug, and his
pubes were long and straight.  There was a tanned, scrawny boy lying next
to him.  He was also naked and seemed to be around 9 or 10.  He was
somewhat weird looking with big front teeth and long, thin hair, which was
somewhat foppish.  In the meantime, the dad was on the other side and was
fucking another boy.  He was naked as well, and his muscles glistened with
sweat.  He also reeked of excessive cologne, but compared to what I had
smelled for the past few days, it was definitely tolerable.

     The dad suddenly turned his head, and I stepped back.  "You're fine,"
he said to me.

     I returned to watching, and he soon motioned me to come forward.  I
walked over to the dad and stared down at the boy taking his cock.

     At first, the boy looked strange to me.  Then, he started to look
adorable.  The boy had a big, round head; large, circular ears that stuck
out; and naturally short, dark hair.  He reminded me of the cartoon
character from Mad Magazine.  Also, his body was as scrawny as the tanned
boy's, and they seemed to be around the same age.  Furthermore, he would
occasionally stick out his tongue to the side of his mouth, and he would
make little, purring noises.

     Soon, the boy reached for my crotch.  I got on the bed and pulled out
my cock, and he started sucking it.  His sucking was so sloppy it left my
cock a slimy mess, but at least he didn't use teeth.  Moments later, I
looked at the Filipino, who looked bored and annoyed.  For the first time,
I noticed his stomach was covered with a glistening patch of dried cum.  I
then looked back at the dad.  His cock was about eight to nine inches and
meaty.  He also had a trimmed, V-shaped bush.

     After a few minutes, the dad pulled out of the boy, yanked off the
condom, and began jerking slowly, as if he was exhausted.  I reached down
and touched the boy.  Suddenly, I noticed how big and blue his eyes were.
"They don't get hurt, do they?" I asked the dad.

     "No, they're taken care of.  Isn't that right, Miro?" the dad said, as
he rubbed Miro's tummy.  Hearing his name made Miro smile.  "I've known
Miro since he was eight."

     Moments later, there were loud bustling and frantic talking in the
hallway.  Quickly, I pulled up my pants, and the dad and two boys stirred.
The Filipino yanked off his headphones and sat up confusingly.  "What's
going on?" the Filipino asked.

     "Get your clothes on," the dad said, trying to stay calm.

     The little tanned boy scurried off the bed and disappeared.  I heard
banging on the door across the hall.  Then I heard two or three people
talking.  My heart was racing frantically, and I started to look for an
exit.

     Y appeared in the doorway with one of the thugs.  His eyes were wild
and his hands were flailing.  "You're medical, right?" he asked me.

     "Yes," I replied.

     "We need you."

     I looked at the dad, and he sighed and rolled his eyes.  "What the
fuck?" he grumbled.

     I rushed upstairs with Y and the thug, and then hurried down the
hallway.  Several children and a few adults were in the hallway, and they
were stunned.  Someone had blood on him; I think it was the coach.

     We darted into the room.  Inside, it was somewhat bright, fragrantly
scented, pleasantly warm, and lavishly decorated with expensive artwork and
fancy furniture.  There were also two large TVs with porn playing, and
several bottles of pills and booze lying amongst snacks, sodas, and cigars.
Also, the room seemed to be one of three suites combined by two doors.

     As we headed to the bathroom, I noticed the professor's son strolling
around in tiny, dark Unico briefs, while holding an opened champagne
bottle.  He was somewhat tipsy.

     We entered the bathroom.  Next to a Jacuzzi were the old rich man on
the floor and a thug standing over him.  The rich man was covered in blood
and was making gurgling and quacking noises, as if his airway had been cut
off.  I briefly froze in shock and panic.  Then, the thug began to take off
a sheet covering the man's wounds.  "No," I uttered.  "Keep it on him."
The thug froze with the sheet in his hand, so I went over, took it from
him, and pressed it down on the man.  I then folded it to make it bulkier.
As I did so, I noticed the man turning pale.  "I need to get his feet up,"
I told Y.  "He's going into shock."

     X appeared in the doorway with granny and another thug.  "Get him out
of here," X barked out.

     "We need control his—," I began to say.

     "Get him out!"

     Roughly and sloppily, the thugs grabbed the man and started carrying
him out.  "I think he was robbed," I heard someone say in the hallway.  I
could also hear someone say the `boy' escaped.

     "Get your clothes on!" the professor yelled at his son, as we started
going downstairs.

     We rushed outside.  I noticed a trickle of blood on the ground, and
then I saw one of the thugs entering a nearby field.  He seemed to be
holding something, probably a gun.

     The thugs shoved the rich man into the Mercedes.  I went to get into
the car with him, but someone grabbed my arm.  It was the dad.  "We need to
leave," he said.

     "He's going to die if—," I went to say.

     "No.  We need to go now," he responded with more urgency.

     I followed him to a car and boarded it.  D, the Filipino, and someone
else were already in the car.  X came at the dad, and the dad froze.  "The
other cars are on their way," X told him firmly.

     "Get in the car and drive," the dad responded calmly but sternly.

     "We're not doing this."

     "Get in the fucking car!" D exploded from the front passenger seat.  X
froze up.  "Get in!"

     X and the dad entered.  We were very cramped in the backseat, but I
was glad to be leaving.

     I noticed the Mercedes was gone and more people were filing from the
building.  One of them was the coach, who was rushing towards us, as X
reversed.  He extended his arms out as to say, "What the fuck?"

     X stopped the car.  "Go, go!" D yelled like a mad fuck.

     X took off, and I saw the coach lunge at Y and start yelling.

     We sped down the road.  "Slow down," the dad said.

     X decelerated some as he looked at his phone.  "Get me to the
airport," D said.

     "We need our luggage," the dad said.

     "Get me there now," D repeated.

     "You know what?  Fuck it.  It's all replaceable."  His son grumbled
about something in his bag.  "I'll get you a new one."

     We sat in silence for a couple of minutes.  X finally put his phone
back in his pocket.  "What the fuck happened back there, X?" D asked.  X
didn't answer.  "Well, fucker, you hear me talking?"

     "I don't know.  I wasn't there," X responded.

     "I paid too much money for this goddamn madness—never again."

     "You won't be missed."

     "What?"

     "Won't be missed," X repeated with a smirk and neck roll.

    "You fat, evil fuck, I will fucking ruin you!"

    "Stop it, D," the dad said.  D began to say more.  "Enough!"  There was
a pause.  "Let's just get out of here."

     We soon got to the airport and eventually boarded our plane.  When we
finally returned to (censored), I only hung out with the dad and his son.
Before we parted ways, we exchanged numbers and emails.  I kept in touch
with them for over a year, and the dad sent me an email a few months ago to
tell me Miro was doing well and now had a little girlfriend.  I never heard
from X or the others again.

The End