Date: Thu, 17 Mar 1994 01:49:27 GMT
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
From: boytoy@netcom.com (Steve in Hotlanta)
Subject: "Long Road to Hell" (mm)
LONG ROAD TO HELL
=================
By Chris Tanner
Chapter 1 : The Scenic Route
----------------------------
It was 1988. Late summer. I'd graduated from high school that
June and just spent the summer loafing around with my buddies. A guy
can only do so much beer-drinking and carousing and screwing around
before he finally has to start thinking about growing up a little.
I'd been giving a lot of thought to my future. After all, I was
eighteen now. There wasn't much for me in my home town of Gilmore.
Most of the plants had closed and either gone out of business alto-
gether or moved to bigger towns, so job prospects were slim. My dad,
an alcoholic with many years' drinking literally under his belt, was all
the family I had. Ever since my mom left us when I was 12, my dad
had been living in a bottle of Johnny Walker Red. He was able to hold
down a job, but that was about all he could manage. As for being a
parent, much less a friend, he was pretty lame. But my dad did do
one really great thing for me -- he turned me on to the music of the
late 60's and early 70's. If it hadn't been for him, I'd never have
known how great people like Neil Young, The Eagles, and Led Zeppelin
were.
Anyway, I'd decided to pack up some things and take off. I'd
always had a fascination with songs about the open road -- traveling
music, I called it. I wanted to do and see the things I'd heard
described in those songs. I'd been thinking for quite some time about
where I'd go, and I'd decided to head for southern California,
probably L.A. Once I got there, I'd get a job and make a new life for
myself that didn't include Clinton, or my dad, or even memories of my
mom, who had pretty much faded from my mind anyway.
During the few weeks just prior to my departure from home, I'd
carefully collected together the most important things I'd need:
Plenty of batteries for my Walkman, a soft-sided cassette tape case,
basic toiletries, and all the money I could get my hands on. It
wasn't hard to steal an occasional twenty out of my dad's wallet when
he came home wasted. He'd come in the door, look in the refrigerator,
close the refrigerator door because there would be no food inside,
take off his clothes and throw them over the back of a chair, and go
to sleep on the first bed, chair, or sofa he came to.
I fixed myself a bedroll to take along. I planned to hitchhike
across the country, and I figured there'd be plenty of nights when
I'd have to sleep outside. Last, I packed up some small cans of
beefaroni and fruit cocktail. I was ready to go.
I picked Sunday morning to leave. Dad always spent Saturday
nights with some floozy he picked up in a bar somewhere, and he
usually didn't come stumbling in until around noon on Sunday, so it
would be easy to be gone long before he came home. That Saturday
night, I spread all my things out on my bed for a last-minute check.
I had remembered everything, including a small jar of instant coffee.
I counted my money. Between my summer job at Hardee's, some odd yard
work, and visits to my dad's wallet, I had just over $1200. I put
fifty in my own wallet, and hid the rest inside a little hidden
compartment I'd sewn into the bottom of my backpack.
On Sunday morning I woke up at 5:30. I didn't even need an
alarm clock, I was so excited that the time to start out on my
raw, as I often did, and I had a raging erection. I listened carefully to
be sure my dad hadn't come home last night. I didn't hear any
snoring, so I guessed it was safe to go to the bathroom. I walked
naked to the bathroom, where I had to push down on my dick until it
got soft enough for me to piss through it. When I'd finished
relieving myself, I stood and looked at myself for a minute in the
full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door.
Looking back at me from the mirror was a guy with his hair
sticking up all over his head. At least he kept it cut short and
neat, unlike many of his friends who wore their hair long. The guy
in the mirror looked young . . . REAL young. He had no facial hair
yet. There was no hair growing on his chest, but he did have a
generous growth of hair around his crotch. He was very tanned after
a summer of swimming and doing yard work with his shirt off.
I looked myself over thoroughly, from the dark brown hair on the
top of my head to my blue eyes to my tanned shoulders to my still
half-hard dick to my long legs to the high arches of my feet.
"So you're the man who's ready to go out and see the world," I
said to the naked guy in the mirror.
Suddenly, I was seized with an urge to jack off. This was
nothing new -- I often jacked off while looking at myself naked in
this mirror. As I pumped my stiff cock up and down, I decided I
wanted to add a new twist. Still naked and hard, I walked into my
dad's bedroom. I stood next to his bed and pumped my cock
vigorously. I got up on his bed on my knees and put his pillow under
my cock. I closed my eyes and imagined my Pop sleeping there, with
his head on his pillow. When my climax came, my come shot out all
over his pillow, but I was imagining it shooting all over his face.
"Here, Pop, this load's for you," I said just as the sperm
started to pour out of my dick. The thought of ejaculating onto my
father's sleeping face was a real turn-on. I was surprised to find
how much I got into this little fantasy that I had originally
inteded as an act of rebellion.
I wiped the last few drops of come off on Dad's pillowcase and
returned to the bathroom to get a shower.
By eight o'clock, I'd walked the 2 or 3 miles to the interstate
highway. As I made my way up the entrance ramp, I began to get a little
winded. When I got to the top of the ramp, I sat down on my knapsack and
held up my sign that read "CALIF." It was getting really warm already.
I thought back to the note I'd left my dad. It had read, "Dear Dad,
See you around. Love, Craig." I hadn't been in much of a mood for a long
goodbye, and I didn't want to tell him where I was headed, just on the off
chance he might go to the trouble of looking for me. Which wasn't likely.
Anyway, legally, I was an adult, so I wasn't running away, and he couldn't
make me come home.
I'd been sitting beside the road for about 20 minutes when a guy in
a pickup truck stopped and offered me a ride. I got in and thanked him
for stopping. He said he was heading west, but not as far west as Calif-
ornia. He took me as far as Memphis.
In Memphis, I got a ride with a traveling salesman named Ralph. He
took me to Little Rock. Somewhere between Memphis and Little Rock, he
offered me fifty bucks to suck his dick. I said, "No Thanks." He was real
nice about being turned down. Then about 15 minutes later, he offered me
He gave me a quick blow job and paid me. When I got to Little Rock,
I treated myself to a huge dinner at Shoney's and a single room at the Day's
Inn.
The next morning, after I'd eaten breakfast and settled my bill at
the motel and was walking out of the parking lot toward the highway, a big
gray Cadillac pulled up beside me and stopped. There was a nicely-dressed
woman behind the wheel. She was the only person in the car.
"Would you like a ride?" she offered.
"Yes, ma'am, I surely would," I replied.
I tossed my backpack into the back seat and got in beside her. She
said she could take me as far as Oklahoma City. She was going there to see
her daughter. The lady was really nice looking. Besides the fact that she
was driving a very expensive car, she was dressed like someone who had a lot
of money. She must have had more than she knew what to do with, because she
offered me money to have sex with her.
"Damn!" I thought, "If I'd known you could make this kind of money on
the road just having sex with people, I'd have left home a long time ago."
"How much?" I asked her. I was smiling, because I wasn't sure she was
totally serious.
"Why don't you take off that shirt and give me a hint of what I might
be paying for?" she smiled back.
I thought about it for about 3 seconds, and I pulled my t-shirt off
over my head. The lady looked at me like I was a steak in the meat counter
at the Piggly Wiggly.
"Well, you're a great looking kid, and you've got a good body . . . one
hundred dollars if you give me an orgasm."
"A hundred bucks is a hundred bucks," I said. "You pick the spot."
She let me out just outside O.C. Since I hadn't spent any of the money
I'd brought with me, and had actually obtained MORE money since I'd started
out, I decided to get a room for the night again. My second night on the
road, and so far the trip hadn't been half-bad.
The next a.m., I grabbed a quick breakfast at the Tasty World restaur-
ant in the motel I'd stayed in. Then I was back up the entrance ramp and
on the side of the road with my thumb in the air by eight-thirty. I'd been
prepared to sleep outdoors if necessary, but I had to admit it was mighty
nice to be able to have a hot shower every morning.
By ten, I still hadn't caught a ride. An Oklahoma state trooper passed
by in the eastbound lane of I-40, but he didn't mess with me. Maybe, I
thought, they don't care if people hitch rides in Oklahoma.
Another hour-and-a-half had passed since I'd decided to start walking.
It had been so easy to catch my first two rides, I was guessing it would be
that easy to go all the way. Now I couldn't seem to get anybody to give me
a second look. Maybe if I flopped my dick out, that would get somebody to
stop. It sure had done a good job of getting me this far -- half-way across
the country.
Just before noon, it rained. And I'd walked until I'd reached a place
where there was no shelter of any kind. I just sat down on my backpack and
waited for the rain to stop. I was soaked to the skin, but at least my pack
was waterproof (I hoped). The rain only lasted about a half-hour.
When the sun came out, the heat started to really beat down. Steam was
rising in shimmery waves off the wet pavement. I started walking again. My
shoes and socks squished with every step I took. I wished I'd brought a
spare pair of shoes. I had dry socks, but what good would it do to put them
on now? I pulled my shirt off and hung it out of my back jeans pocket. I
was really starting to feel tired. The walking, the drenching rain, and now
this hellacious heat was really wearing me down. I would have given anything
for an ice-cold coke and a cool place to lie down and take a nap.
It was about 2:30 when the 18-wheeler pulled over and stopped about
50 feet in front of me. I tried to run to it, but I was stumbling, so I
just walked. The passenger-side door was open when I reached it. I pulled
myself up into the cab, lugging my pack behind me.
I was all smiles when I looked at the driver; I was so grateful to
finally have a ride. He was a guy probably in his early twenties. He had
short red hair and green eyes. It looked like he was trying to grow a beard,
but it was just sort of stubbly, like he hadn't shaved in 2 or 3 days.
"Where ya headed, bud?" he asked.
"I'm going to L.A.," I answered. "How far west are you going?"
"As it happens, we're going to L.A. ourselves, so we can take you all
the way," he said with a big, friendly grin.
"We?" I asked.
"Oh, hey," said the driver, "I'm Jesse." We shook hands. "My partner,
Lester, he's back there in the sleeping compartment. We take turns driving
and sleeping." Jesse jerked his thumb back over his right shoulder to
indicate where the sleeping compartment was.
I turned around to my left and parted the curtains just a little. Lying
on his side and sleeping very soundly was a black man. He had his back to
me, so I couldn't see what he looked like. His shirt was off, though, and
I could see that he was quite muscular. I toyed with the idea of putting my
own shirt back on, but discarded the idea because I was still hot, despite
the fact that the truck's cab was air conditioned.
"Have you got anything to drink?" I asked. "I'm so dry I'm about to
perish."
Jesse said, "Look right behind my seat, bud. There's a cooler with
some beer and some sodas in it. Me and Lester, we don't ever drink the beers
when we're driving. But you're welcome to all you want, because you won't
be driving."
I fished around in the large cooler until I found an ice-cold Budwieser.
I rubbed the cold can on my forehead and chest and stomach before I finally
popped the top and chugged about half the can at one time.
"Damn, that's good," I said. Then I proceeded to polish it off. "Mind
if I have another one?"
"You just help yourself," Jesse said to me. Then in a much louder
voice, "Hey, Sonny! Get up and meet our company."
There was a rustling sound behind the curtains. After a few seconds,
Lester emerged, rubbing his face. He pushed the curtains aside and sat on
the edge of the little sleeping compartment. He had to lean forward a little
to keep from bumping his head on the roof of the compartment.
"What's all the hollerin' about?" he groused.
"This here's Craig," Jesse said simply.
Lester and I shook hands. He said, "I see you found the beer. Wish I
could have one to wake myself up with."
"Oh, no!" Jesse said. "You know what happened the last time you drank
beer while we were on the road. We'll be stopping for some coffee up here
at the next 76."
I was working on my second beer. I observed that Lester was very black,
although when he talked, he had no trace of the kind of accent many black
people have. He was attractive, but looking into his eyes that were so dark
menacing -- way of looking back at me. His hair was cut very short, and he
had a diamond stud earring in his left earlobe.
My second can of beer was empty. Lester handed me a third one. I was
beginning to have these huge, jaw-breaking yawns. I popped the third beer
open and took a long swig. I offered it to Sonny.
"You sure you don't want a little?" I asked.
"No, man, I guess I better not. Jesse will give me hell all the way
to Albuquerque if I do."
Jesse watched me yawn again and said, "You look like you could use a
little sleep. Why don't you crawl back there and catch yourself 40 winks."
He pointed back to the compartment behind Sonny.
"You know, I think I just might do that," I said, finishing off the
last of the beer in the can.
Lester and I sort of crawled over and under each other as we switched
places. My bare left shoulder brushed against his bare right one moment-
arily. Lester put his big left hand on my stomach and his right hand on the
small of my back to steady me. Then I was in the compartment, which cont-
ained a twin size mattress. I pulled off my still-damp sneakers and dropped
them down behind Lester's seat. I had to peel the damp socks off my feet.
I tossed my socks down on top of my shoes. I don't remember another thing
until I realized we were pulling off the highway. I didn't even wake up
then. In a dream, I heard Jesse's and Lester's voices saying something
about having some coffee and taking a leak.
A little later, I did wake up slightly when Lester cranked the rig up
and started pulling out of the truck stop's parking lot. Almost instantly,
I was back asleep, sleeping like a dead man.
I woke up with a start. I must have slept several hours, because it
was dark now. No, it wasn't that it was dark, there was something over my
eyes. I tried to reach up and pull whatever it was away from my face, and
with a sudden feeling of panic, I realized I couldn't move my arms. There
was metal encircling my wrists. Handcuffs! And when I tried to move my
legs, they wouldn't move either. My feet were tied together.
"Hey, what's going on?" I said loud enough to be heard over the noises
of the road and motor. "Why am I tied up?"
"Keep quiet back there," Jesse growled in a voice nothing like his
formerly friendly one. "And there's no need to yell, we can hear you just
fine. By the way, don't bother trying to get loose. I did you up myself,
and there's no way you'll get free."
My feelings of panic were now feelings of terror. I was still groggy
from the sleep and the beer, but not so groggy that I didn't realize a few
things. I'd told Jesse about how I'd left home without telling anyone where
I was heading. I'd told him I was going to L.A., but that I had no one
there who would be looking for my arrival. I'd even told him my dad was a
drunk who probably wouldn't even look for me. What a big mouth I've got, I
thought.
I tried to calm myself -- well, as much as a guy who's been tied up
by two big truckers he's never met before can calm himself. They haven't
really hurt me, I thought. They've just tied me up. It may all just be a
gag, although it's not very funny at the moment. Oh, well, all I could do
was wait and find out what plans they had for me. But maybe I could still
talk my way out of this pickle.
"Well, why do I have to be blindfolded?" I asked. "Come on, guys, the
joke's not funny anymore. Untie me, and let's all have a good laugh and a
beer. What'dya say?"
"Shut the fuck up," Jesse growled, "or I'm gonna gag ya. Just consider
yourself in deep shit and keep quiet. Ya got that?"
"Yeah, I've got it," I replied. "But just tell me why you're doing
this."
"When I ask you a question or tell you to do something, the correct
answer is 'Yes, sir'. Now lemme hear it."
"Yes, sir," I said, my voice trembling.
I could hear the rustle of the curtains as Jesse withdrew. I quietly
tried the handcuffs. No way I was going to get out of those. Even with
nothing to go on but my sense of touch, I could tell these were not the
kind of handcuffs you buy for five dollars at the county fair. These
things felt like stainless steel. I pulled my ankles against whatever was
binding them. It only hurt -- there was no way I'd get them loose.
"Hey, I've got to take a leak real bad," I said, thinking if I could
get out of this truck and get my feet untied, I could run for help.
Jesse and Lester argued for a couple of minutes about whether or not
to stop and let me use the bathroom. They agreed they didn't want me to
piss on their mattress, and I could hear the air brakes hissing as Lester
pulled over to the side of the road.
Jesse's voice was close to my ear again. "Here's how it's gonna work,"
he said. "I'm gonna untie your feet and take you out of the cab. When I
get you outside, the blindfold and the handcuffs are gonna stay on. I'm
gonna put you where I want you to piss, and then I'm gonna drop your pants.
You piss when I tell you to. Then I'm gonna pull your pants up, put you
back here in the compartment, and we're on our way. Clear?"
"Yeah," I replied.
"What's that?" Jesse's voice demanded.
"Yes, sir. It's clear."
Jesse's hands were untying my ankles as the rig came to a stop. He'd
really tied me good, because he was having a little trouble untying me now.
Finally, I felt the rope, or whatever it was, slip off my sore ankles. It
was a relief to have it off -- it felt like the skin on my ankles was raw.
"Looks like I might have tied your feet a little too tight," Jesse's
voice said. "Oh, well, roll over on your side and swing your feet out so
you can sit up."
I managed to swing my feet around and out of the sleeping compart-
ment. Jesse and Lester helped me get over the passenger's seat and down
the step to the roadside. I couldn't see a thing. The sand and gravel on
the shoulder of the road, still warm from the day's heat, hurt the bottoms
of my bare feet, causing me to step gingerly.
"Where are we?" I asked, guessing that it really was after dark and
that we weren't in the middle of some town. It was real quiet, except for
the idling of the truck's engine.
"Well, that's easy to answer," Lester's voice said. "We're here!"
With that, he burst into a fit of laughter. Somebody's hands led me
some feet away from the truck. I could feel damp grass under my feet now.
The hands on my arms and back were rough and calloused. They must have
been Jesse's hands, because his voice said, "This is far enough."
Then the hands were unfastening my jeans and pulling them down to my
ankles. Next, down came my briefs. I could feel a breeze blowing against
my naked butt.
"Now piss," said Jesse's voice.
I tried to let go. I really had to go bad. But for some reason, my
bladder just wouldn't cooperate. I tried to think about running water. It
did no good. I tried to imagine I was at home standing in front of my own
toilet. Maybe if I clicked my heels together three times . . . .
"What's taking so damn long?" It was Lester's voice from some distance
away. I guessed he was waiting near the truck. Then I heard his cowboy
boots scraping on the roadside gravel, coming nearer to where I was
standing. "I think I might just size up our merchandise here, as long as
he's got everything hanging out and all."
I still couldn't pee, and now it would be even harder to let go,
knowing they were looking at me. I felt a new pair of hands on me. They
felt big, so I guessed they were Lester's hands. He was just sort of rubbing
them around on my back and chest and butt-cheeks.
Lester's voice said, "I'm gonna give you to the count of five to take
your piss, boy. And then if piss ain't flowin' out your dick, I'm gonna
make you wish you'd never made me stop that rig."
As he began counting, his hand slid down to my abdomen, just above my
crotch. He started pressing inward, gently at first, but increasing the
pressure as he counted. Suddenly, my bladder let go, and piss was streaming
out. I could hear it raining down on the grass in front of me.
"Now, that's a good boy," Lester said as I finished. "I'm gonna just
give you a little sample of what might have happened if you hadn't done
that when you did."
The next thing I knew, a sharp pain exploded across both my ass-cheeks.
Lester had hit me on my butt with one of his big hands. I cried out a little.
"That was for nothin'," Lester said, "now do somethin' and see what
you get."
One of them pulled my briefs up. Then my jeans were pulled up and
fastened. I was led back to the rig, hauled up into the cab, and stuffed
back into the sleeping compartment.
"Now I want you to keep quiet until we get where we're goin'," Jesse
said.
"Where ARE we going?" I pleaded to know. "Can't you at least take off
the blindfold?"
"Okay, that's it," said Jesse's voice as we pulled back onto the high-
way. "Open your mouth."
I felt some wet cloth pushing against my lips. I thought maybe it was
one of my socks. I kept my lips pressed tightly together. A hand slipped
down inside the front of my jeans. The hand took hold of my cock and
balls.
"Open up or I'm gonna squeeze the hell out of 'em."
I opened my mouth, and my damp sock was stuffed into it.
"Next time," said Jesse, "I'm gonna gag you with your underwear." Then
he re-tied my ankles, just as tight as they'd been tied before.
We rode on for several hours more. My stomach was growling. I couldn't
remember when I'd eaten last -- breakfast that morning, I guessed. It
wasn't that I was hungry, just empty. I couldn't sleep, no way. I just
lay there and listened to the hum of the highway and the occasional remark
between Jesse and Lester. My heart pounded. What were these guys going to
do to me?
"Here's the exit," Lester said to Jesse. "Want to stop for anything?"
"I could use a cup of coffee," said Jesse, "but one of us is gonna have
to stay here and keep an eye on our boy back there."
"Well," Lester said, "he ain't going nowhere. But just to be on the
safe side, I'll stay here. Go in and get me a cup of black coffee."
The rig rolled to a stop. I could hear the sound of many truck engines.
I decided to try the I Need To Take A Leak gambit again. I started making
all the noise with my mouth I could. Lester's hand pulled my sock out of my
mouth.
"You want something, boy?" he growled.
"I need to go to the bathroom again."
"Well, you ain't going here, I can tell you that," Lester said sarcas-
tically. "We'll get on down the road a piece before we let you out."
"Man, I've got to take a dump. I need a toilet and some toilet paper."
Lester just laughed as he stuffed the sock back into my mouth. I
thought about pissing in my pants but decided that might put me in more
danger than I was already in.
In a few minutes, Jesse returned. I could smell coffee and hamburgers.
I'd have given anything for either one right then. I'd decided to go ahead
and let myself be hungry, and the aromas floating around in that truck cab
were maddening.
Jesse's voice said, "Hey, boy, how'd you like something to eat?"
Yes sir I would, I thought, but all I could say with my mouth stuffed
was, "Mmm-hmm!"
"What would you do for something to eat, I wonder?" Jesse asked.
I made no reply to that. Nothing else was said, and I was given
nothing to eat.
The rig was moving again, but it didn't seem to be going as fast, or
something. I had the feeling we were not back on the interstate. I still
had to pee, but I decided not to say anything else about it unless I just
got to where I couldn't hold it any more. After what seemed like 15 or 20
minutes, the rig started gearing down.
"What?" Jesse asked.
"Boy's got to go to the bathroom again," Lester said.
The truck came to a stop. Again, my feet were untied, and I was pulled
out of the cab and set down on the ground. This time, there was no sharp
gravel under my feet -- just sand. The blindfold, which turned out to be
a neckerchief, was removed. I looked around me, blinking. All I could see
in any direction was open desert. Nothing but sand and cactus. The moon
was full, so there was plenty of light to see a long way. Nothing.
"I figure since there's no way in hell you can know where you are, we
can take your blindfold off now," Jesse said.
I looked to my left where he was standing, holding tightly to my upper
arm. He walked me out several yards into the sand. He dropped my pants
again, and this time I was able to let go without much trouble. For one
thing, I didn't want another swat on my ass from Lester.
"You still gotta go number two?" Lester asked me.
"Uh, no, sir. I think I can wait for that."
Jesse pulled my shorts and my pants back up and fastened them at my
waist. For a split second, he took both his hands off me, and I took off
running toward the rear of the truck. I thought maybe, with a little luck,
I could make it far enough away from them that I could somehow get back to
the truck stop we'd left a little while ago. There I could get help. Or,
maybe someone going back in that direction would pass by and pick me up.
They had me in seconds. Both sets of hands were grabbing me and
actually picking me up off the ground. They carried me back to the rig.
Jesse opened the big doors on the back of the trailer and climbed up into
it while Lester held me. I squirmed to get loose, but there was no way I
was going to break this big dude's grip. Lester handed me up to Jesse, who
pulled me up into the trailer. Lester climbed up last. They left the doors
open, and the moonlight was the only light in the trailer.
Jesse put me in a full nelson. Lester stripped my jeans off me and
literally ripped off my undershorts. He took the rag that had been my shorts
and pushed it into my mouth.
"I told you we'd do this, boy. Now we're through being nice to you."
The trailer was empty, except for some big blanket-looking things.
There were u-shaped rings attached to the sides. I guess these were used
to secure things so they wouldn't move around while the trailer was moving.
Jesse pulled me over to one of the walls. He unlocked one side of my hand-
cuffs and passed the cuff through one of the u-shaped rings. He locked the
cuff back onto my wrist so that I was hanging from the bracket in the wall.
I looked back over my shoulder to see what my captors were doing.
Jesse was slowly pulling off his shirt. He had red hair all over his chest.
Lester, who was already shirtless, glistened in the moonlight coming in
through the open trailer doors. I remember thinking how odd it was that
they didn't seem to be afraid any other vehicles would come along. They
obviously knew this was not a heavily traveled road.
When Jesse had tossed his shirt down on top of the heap that was my
jeans, he slowly unbuckled his wide belt and slid it out of its loops on his
pants. He walked slowly toward me, cracking the belt two or three times. I
knew what was coming next.
"Brace yourself, boy," he said in a low voice.
Jesse slammed the belt across my ass. It hurt quite a bit, but not as
bad as most of the whippings my dad had given me during my lifetime. In
fact, Jesse's belt made more noise than anything else. But I decided to
make him think he was killing me. I hollered out through my gag. Jesse
hit me another three or four times before Lester interrupted him.
"Let me show you how that's meant to be done, my friend," Lester said,
like a teacher instructing a student.
Lester wrapped his left arm around my waist in front. Then with his
right hand he started spanking me. And let me tell you, his hand hurt a
lot more than Jesse's belt had. The second time that big black hand came
down on my ass, I started crying. This was pain that would have put my old
man to shame -- he, at least, had never been able to make me cry. The blows
just kept coming, one after another. I don't know how many times he hit me.
I just knew my ass would be black and blue.
Finally, he stopped whipping me. He stepped back saying, "I'm gonna
get me some of this. I watched in terror as he pulled off his cowboy boots,
and socks. Next, off came his jeans. Lester reached for the handcuff key
from Jesse. He unlocked one side of the cuffs and let my arms down. I was
too exhausted from the beating he'd given me to do much of anything except
stand there and wait for whatever came next.
What came next was the longest, fattest cock I'd ever seen in my life.
And the real kicker was that it wasn't even hard yet. As Lester pulled down
his boxer shorts, his cock sort of uncoiled, like a big snake.
"Get down on your knees," he ordered.
Lester hadn't even put the loose cuff back on me -- the handcuffs just
hung from my right wrist. I didn't have the heart or the courage to try to
escape again. I knew I couldn't get far, naked in the desert. I was tired
and my ass was sore as hell. And Jesse was leaning against the side of the
door -- no way I'd make it past him, anyway. I got down on my knees and
made up my mind to do whatever they told me to do.
Lester walked over to stand in front of me. He reached into my mouth
and extracted the rag that had once been a good pair of Hanes briefs. He
said, "You see this here cock, boy?" He was stroking it slowly, and it was
beginning to stiffen.
"Yes, sir," was all I had the strength to reply.
"Well, you're gonna suck it," Lester said. "And you're gonna suck it
real good. You're gonna suck on it 'til I tell you I'm through with you.
And if you decide to get feisty and bite me or something like that, I'll
make you sorry you were ever born. Now open your mouth."
Now I'll admit, I've sucked a cock or two in my day, but I'd never had
anything the size of Lester's dick in my mouth. And I'd never sucked a
black cock, either. But I didn't see where I had much choice here. I was
about to go ahead and open my mouth, but I guess Lester thought I was taking
too long. He grabbed a handful of hair on the top of my head and jerked my
head backward. My mouth snapped open all by itself.
Lester's huge cock slid in between my lips. A car went by. It was
going back toward the direction we'd come from. Out of the corner of my eye
I could see its tail lights fading into the distance. I couldn't even make
out what kind of car it had been, and I knew there was no way the people in
the car could have seen what was happening in that trailer.
Lester's prick kept sliding in. He had pushed it in real slow, but
now it was pressing against the gag spot in the back of my throat. I sort
of choked a little on it.
"You ain't even got but about a fourth of this thing, boy," Lester said.
"Can't you do any better than that?"
There was no way I could answer his question. I guessed he didn't
really expect an answer, but I tried to shake my head "no" anyway. I didn't
have much success, so firmly was Lester's cock planted in my mouth. My lips
were stretched around the fatness of his dick. I remember noticing that a
black cock didn't taste any different than a white one. I wondered if his
come would taste any different.
Lester put his hand on the back of my head and tried to force his cock
farther down my throat. It just wouldn't go any farther. His cockhead
kept banging against my gag spot, and my eyes were watering again. Or maybe
I was crying again, I'm not sure. Anyway, Jesse was moaning with the rhythm
of his hips thrusting against my face.
"Oh, man, Jesse, you got to get you some of this boy," Lester said to
his partner. Then to me, "Boy, those bottom teeth are a little rough, you
know?"
I slid my tongue between my bottom teeth and the underside of Lester's
dick. I couldn't believe I was actually making the effort to please my
captor. Now my bottom teeth were scraping the hell out of the underside of
my tongue. I just didn't want Lester to spank me anymore. I'd have done
just about anything to keep that from happening again.
My lips felt like they were going to rip apart at the corners of my
mouth, and my jaw felt like it was about to be cracked open. Lester had my
mouth pried open as far as it would go. When his cock had first entered me
my mouth had been dry from fear. Now there was plenty of moisture, and
my mouth made a loud slurping sound whenever Lester pulled himself part of
the way out. I was beginning to be afraid he would be able to stand there
pumping his cock into my mouth all night.
"I think maybe I will join in for some of this action," Jesse said.
He pulled the big trailer doors part of the way closed, even though not one
car had passed by traveling in our direction. Even with the doors partially
closed, there was still just enough light coming in so that we could see.
As Lester continued to shove his rock-hard cock into my mouth, out of the
corner of my eye I could see Jesse stripping off the rest of his clothes. I
couldn't see much, though, because Lester's shiny-smooth hips kept blocking
my peripheral vision.
There was a slight clanking sound of metal on wood. An awareness of
the sound insinuated itself gradually into my concsiousness. What was that
sound? Then I realized it was the loose handcuff knocking against the floor
of the trailer as my own right hand jerked off my now hard dick. Here I was,
actually jacking myself off. I was turned on! Without even thinking about
it, I had become aroused by what Lester and Jesse were doing to me.
Lester realized it, too. He said to Jesse, "Hey, our boy is getting
into the scene! He likes this shit!" This only seemed to give Lester a
burst of new energy, as his cock began to pound the back of my throat even
harder.
I could hear the sound of Jesse's bare feet scuffing on the rough wood
floor of the trailer. His footsteps came up behind me, and I felt his hands
on my shoulders and his bare knees against my back.
"Go for it, kid," Jesse said to me. "Have your fun before we wear you
out."
I decided that, since I was in fact getting into this little scene, I'd
be real brave and feel up Lester's balls. After all, maybe if I did show
these guys a good time, they'd let me go. Maybe that's all they want, I
thought, just a good blow job. Then maybe this nightmare will end. With
my left hand, I reached up and started caressing Lester's big nuts, which
were hanging way down low.
"Ohhhhh," Lester moaned, "that's nice, kid, just keep that up for a
while. But don't squeeze too hard, you hear?"
Lester pulled his big prong out. My mouth felt like a rubber band
snapping back to its unstretched size. He rubbed my open mouth up and down
the length of his cock. My tongue licked ever inch of his shaft, including
the bubble of precome that had appeared in the slit.
"Take my balls in your mouth," he ordered.
I tilted my head back and let his heavy sack drop down into my mouth.
His balls seemed to have a life of their own as they moved and squirmed
against my tongue and palate. The hairs on his scrotum were like fine wires
scratching the inside surfaces of my mouth. Looking up at Lester's face, I
could see he had his eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of my licking and
caressing his nuts with my tongue. Bobbing excitedly in front of my face
was Lester's erect cock.
Jesse had slid his hands down the front of my shoulders and started
rubbing my chest and pinching my nipples a little. His gentle pinching soon
turned into a hard twisting and pulling. The pain in my tits made me even
hotter than before. My mouth made a wet, slurping sound as Lester pulled his
balls out.
"Oh, man. I'm ready!" he said.
Lester shoved his cock back into my hot mouth. He put my left hand on
the shaft and moved it up and down, letting me know he wanted me to jack him
off. He put both his hands on the back of my head and pulled me as far onto
his hard cock as my head would go. Here I was, naked and on my knees, jack-
ing myself off with my right hand. With my left hand I was jacking off this
big black truck driver, trying my best to cause him to shoot his load into my
waiting mouth.
And all the while, Jesse is about to twist my nipples right off my
chest, whispering in my ear things like, "If I had any grease with me, I'd
fuck you. But I guess I'll just let you swing on my cock when Lester's done
with you."
I didn't know how I was going to take another workout like the one
Lester was giving me, but I guessed I'd figure out a way when the time came.
Lester made a deep growling sound in his throat, "Uhhhhh . . . ."
My left hand kept pumping his dick. Suddenly, my mouth was filled with
Lester's warm, salty, bitter semen. His hands were still firmly planted on
the back of my head. There was another gush of come, followed by another,
and then another, and still another. I felt like my mouth wouldn't be able
to hold it all, and some of it would ooze out the corners and down my chin.
And that's exactly what did happen.
When Lester's climax had ended, he pulled my head off his cock. His
dick was still hard, and it sprang up in front of my face. He ordered me to
swallow his come. I shook my head no.
"I said, swallow it, boy!" Lester's voice was real deep.
I gulped down the mouthful of come. It took two swallows to get it all
down. Lester took hold of my head again, and he started rubbing his wet,
comey cock around my lips and face. He pushed the head of his dick against
my lips again, demanding entry. I opened up and let him in. With his hand,
he squeezed from the base of his cock toward my mouth, like he was squeezing
a tube of toothpaste. He was milking every last drop out of it.
"Take it all," he said, using his index finger to collect the jizz that
had run out on my chin. He put his finger into my mouth, and I sucked the
come off of it.
Lester staggered backward a few steps. Then he sat down hard and leaned
back against the wall of the trailer. He said, "Hoo, boy! This kid sure
knows how to use his mouth. Go ahead and help yourself, partner."
Jesse stepped around to stand in front of me. The rough floor of the
trailer had started to hurt my bare knees a little, so I asked Jesse if he
would put down one of the blankets for me to kneel on. He pulled one of the
packing blankets over and let me get on it. It felt a lot better.
I was still playing with my own cock, and Jesse told me to move my
hand away so he could see my dick. I rested my cuffed hand on my thigh.
Jesse gave a couple of playful kicks at my throbbing shaft with his foot.
"Not bad," he said, grinning. "But I've got a man-sized one for you
here." With that, he started slapping his cock around on my face. Jesse's
dick was not nearly as long or as fat as Lester's, but in its fully erect
state it arched all the way up his abdomen to his naval. I sort of dreaded,
and at the same time looked forward to, having Jesse's cock in my mouth.
I went back to playing with my own rigid cock. The loose handcuff was
banging against the floor of the trailer again. Jesse placed his hands on
the sides of my head and pulled my head onto his dick. It didn't stretch
my mouth as wide as Lester's had, but Jesse's dick was nudging at the back
of my throat. I put my left hand up on his behind and started rubbing his
ass cheeks. My head was bobbing up and down on his shaft, going faster and
faster.
My balls let go of the load of come they were holding. I couldn't see
how much was shooting out of my prick, but the spasms which began in my
crotch spread out through my whole body like ripples on lake water. For just
a few seconds, I was blinded by the pleasure washing through my brain as my
orgasm jolted me again and again.
And then Jesse let go. His spurts seemed to shoot right down my
throat. I didn't have to make any conscious effort to swallow his come the
way I had with Lester's, and my mouth didn't fill to overflowing. I didn't
know whether I'd become a more proficient cocksucker or Jesse's dick just
had a better aim.
Jesse took his hand and squeezed the last few drops of semen out into
my mouth. Then he stepped back a step. He looked down at his feet. My
load had shot out all over Jesse's feet and ankles.
"Looks like you made a mess on me," he scolded. "Now, you just stick
out that hot little tongue of yours and lick this jizz off my feet."
I got onto my all-fours and proceeded to lick Jesse's feet clean. This,
I thought, is the ultimate humiliation. I'd just given two blow-jobs like a
world-class cocksucker, and now here I was on my hands and knees licking my
own come off this dude's feet. I must be a grade-A pussy. What disgusting
thing would I do next, I wondered.
"I wish I had time to have you lick my whole body, but that'll have to
wait until later, when we get home," Jesse smiled down at me.
By now, Lester had put all his clothes on except for his shirt. I
looked at his hairless, muscular pectorals and rippled stomach with a new
feeling of appreciation. Jesse was also putting his clothes back on. But
I was not to be so lucky. Lester walked over to me and pulled my arms
behind my back. He fastened the loose cuff around my left wrist.
"C'mon, guys," I whined, "after what I've just done, do you still think
I'm gonna try to run?"
Lester said, "We can't take any chances. You're too valuable for us
to let you get away. But, as long as you don't try anything funny, I won't
tie your feet or gag you."
"What do you mean by 'I'm too valuable'?" I asked.
"I'll tell you when we're on the road again."
Lester handed me, still naked, down to Jesse, who was now standing on
the ground outside the trailer. Jesse held me while Lester closed the doors
on the trailer. Lester climbed up into the driver's seat, while Jesse and
I got in on the passenger side, Jesse pushing me up by my ass while Lester
pulled up on my upper arms. Lester had put what my clothes into the sleeping
compartment. I was made to kneel on the floorboard in front of Jesse's seat,
which he had pushed as far back as it would go. Still, there wasn't a lot
of room. I wished they would have let me get back in the sleeping compart-
ment. When the rig was back on the road, I asked Jesse what they were going
to do with me.
"Well, I guess it's safe to tell you now," Jesse said. "I guess you've
figured out there ain't no way you're gonna get away from us." He looked
over at Lester, and they both chuckled a little.
"Here's the way it is," Lester said. "We have this little sideline.
We're sort of what you might call 'slave traders'."
I started getting that old panicky feeling in my gut again.
Jesse said, "That's right. We pick up young fellas and sell them to
our buyers. Pretty soon, you'll be the property of a very rich man."
"You do this all the time?" I asked, not really believing the part
about becoming the property of a rich man.
"You're about the . . . what, Jesse, twenty-fifth?" Lester said. "We've
developed quite a sizable clientele. You'd be surprised how many dumb white
boys like you there are out here on these roads."
"You only kidnap white guys?"
"We've picked up two black dudes," Jesse said. "We sold one to an oil
sheik from Kuwait, and the other one to some guy who's a high mucky-muck in
the KKK in Alabama."
I started trying to get on my feet. The idea of being 'sold' and
thought of as 'property' was getting to be a little more than I could handle.
I believed everything they were telling me now, and I was terrified again.
Jesse put his booted foot in the middle of my chest and pushed me back down.
When I was on my ass again, he planted his boot right on my crotch. His heel
ground into my cock.
"Don't move like that again," Jesse said in a tone that convinced me to
sit still.
"Please let me go," I pleaded. There was a quiver in my voice I really
didn't want them to hear, but I couldn't hide it. My eyes were stinging with
tears that were about to start running down my face.
"Don't get your pants in a wad," Lester said. He laughed and said, "Oh,
I forgot. You ain't wearing any pants." He laughed loudly, his voice deep.
"We're gonna have some more fun with you before we turn you over to your new
owner. But you might as well make up your mind right now that to us you're
just merchandise. We won't use you all up before you go to your new owner,
though."
Jesse ground his boot heel into my balls just a little bit.
"Ahhh! Okay, okay, I'll behave myself," I said urgently. Now the tears
were running. I wanted to put my head down and sob like a baby, but I didn't
want these guys to know they'd reduced me to this level of sheer terror. I
had to pee again. I wished I'd asked to go before we'd gotten back on the
road. This goddamned deserted road . . . where in the hell did it lead to?
Where the hell WERE we? New Mexico? Arizona? Nevada? California? I had
no idea. My whole orientation to time and place was completely shot.
We rode on for a little while longer, I'm not sure how long. I told
Jesse I needed to take a piss. He took his foot off my crotch and told me
I'd either have to wait a few minutes more or hang my dick out the window.
I said I'd wait.
There was another 15 or 20 minutes of silence, except for the hum of
the highway under our wheels. I'd leaned my head against Jesse's left
knee and had almost drifted off to sleep, when the hissing of the air brakes
startled me awake.
"We have to leave the trailer out here by the roadside," Jesse said.
"There's not room to turn it around up by the house."
The rig came to a stop. Jesse helped me down out of the cab while
Lester went about the job of unhooking the trailer from the tractor. Jesse
led me a few feet out into the sand by the roadside. I spread my legs and
let go with a stream of piss. I figured after what I'd been through this
day, I wasn't gonna be a prima donna about pissing in front of Jesse anymore.
We stood and watched Lester finish disconnecting the trailer. When
he'd finished, he got in the cab and pulled the tractor forward a few feet.
He hollered to Jesse, "Bring the kid around here to my side."
Jesse led me to the driver's door.
"Take one of the cuffs off," Lester said, "and put him up on the step."
Jesse unlocked the cuff on my right hand. He told me to step up on the
step under the door. Lester took hold of my right wrist and pulled me up.
Now the step the driver used to get up into the cab wasn't exactly a step --
it was more like a little cutout in the body. It was only about three inches
wide, so when I had both feet on it, there was really only room for my toes
and the balls of my feet. My heels were left hanging out in space. Lester
re-cuffed my wrists on the inside of the frame that held the rearview mirror
onto the side of the tractor. I grabbed hold of that mirror bracket and held
on for dear life.
Jesse walked around the front of the tractor and got in the passenger
door. He and Lester were laughing at me. Lester put the tractor in gear,
and we started moving forward back onto the highway. I turned my feet
sideways, trying to get a better foothold on the narrow little step. That
didn't work, so I went back to hanging on by my toes. Lester turned the
tractor onto a dirt road on the right. Suddenly, I wasn't just hanging on
anymore. My feet were bouncing up and down on the step and I was afraid I
might be slung off the little step I was perched on. I just knew Lester
was going to bounce me off and I'd be dragged along, hanging by my hands
from the rear-view mirror.
Lester laughed out loud at my efforts to maintain my precarious perch.
He put his left hand out the window while he steered with his right. His
left hand found my cock and balls, and he started fondling them. He took a
firm hold of my ball sack and said, "Don't worry, if you fall off, I'll pull
you back up."
I didn't know how long this terrifying ride was going to last, because
I could see nothing in the distance -- not a house or a tree or a building of
any kind. We rode on for some time with Lester holding onto my balls and my
feet bouncing up and down on the step.
And then there it was -- the outline of a house or some kind of build-
ing. There were no lights on in it, but I could make it out in the moon-
light. And in a couple of minutes, Lester was stopping the tractor in what
must have passed for a front yard. I didn't know then that my perils had
only begun. Once I entered that house, I'd be in a world of new trouble.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
[Be sure to look for the next installment of Craig's adventures on the road.
LONG ROAD TO HELL : Chapter 2 "Desert Moon"
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