Chapter 3
Davey felt the flood of his father's cum filling his ass as the man held himself over the boy on both hands, his prostate and his testicles working together to pump the thick spilling. Durkin gasped for breath, his ass flexing and working in tiny strokes, although his meat was all the way inside the boy. Then the air escaped from his lungs with a single long sigh and he collapsed, to lay heavily across Davey for several minutes.
The cock-shape softened, shrunk slightly and squeezed smaller by the tight muscles of the boy. Durkin's chin cut into Davey's shoulder, but it was just one more pain that passed almost unnoticed among the others. Davey was crying steadily now, his anguish cutting through the fog of the man's sexual exhaustion.
"Little bastard! Shut up!"
Suddenly he pulled out, cock coming free with a loud plop, and rolled from the boy to sit up on the edge of the bed. His hands rested on his knees as he took in deep breaths, staring at the floor until he recovered his senses. Then he looked around at his son.
"Shit, you think you got something td cry for now? Just you wait, boy!"
The bed bounced as the man stood but Davey did not look up at him. He wanted to reach back, feel the violated asshole, but he forced his hands to stay in that position, hearing his father cursing as the man looked for his clothes and dressed. Davey wouldn't look at him -- he'd never look at him again!
"Get up, boy!"
He closed his eyes, not answering. Durkin did not give him a second chance. Suddenly the man's fingers were in Davey's hair, yanking him from the bed to his feet.
"Move when you're told, boy! You've got a lot to learn."
There was no anger -- satisfaction, instead -- in his voice as he looked at his son. He wiped his mouth then reached down and eased his cock in his pants. Then his hand cupped the back of Davey's head, shoving him toward the door.
"March!"
Davey staggered as his father's hand slammed against his shoulder, nearly spinning into the wall. Then he was in the hall and pushing through the living room and the kitchen, toward the door to the attached garage.
"Open the door, boy!"
Davey did so, his father flicking on the garage light. The same hand shoved the boy through the door, onto the concrete floor. It felt cold against his feet.
"Get in the back seat of the car."
"My clothes..."
The hand cuffed his ear again, slamming him against the fender and bruising his hip. Davey staggered, choking back another sob.
"You shut your fuckin' mouth, boy! You speak only when you're given a direct order, you hear me?"
He nodded. "Yes sir."
"Now get your ass in the car on the floor."
He did as he was told, stretching out in the narrow space between the seats. The hump of the transmission cut uncomfortably into his side.
Suddenly his father shook out the car robe and dropped it over the boy, covering him completely. He studied the result, arranging it slightly better, until it was to his satisfaction.
"Don't you move, boy, no matter what, until I tell you!"
Davey choked on dust from the floor of the car, the robe scratchy where it lay across him. His cock was squeezed uncomfortably between his thigh and the hump, and he reached down to rearrange it without his father's noticing. The interior garage light went off and the door to the house slammed shut, rattling as the man checked to make sure it was locked. Then the outside door went up and he got into the car, starting the engine. They rolled forward a short distance and he stopped again, leaving the motor running, while he locked the garage behind him.
Then they were moving again, Davey smelling the fumes of the motor as he huddled on the floor beneath the blanket. He soon lost track of the time. For a while, despite his injuries and the uncomfortable position, he dozed. Then the car braked to a stop, suddenly, throwing him forward against the seat. A moment later it made a sharp turn, then moved slowly for the next several minutes, at last stopping again. Durkin got out, and the boy heard his steps climbing a porch. A moment later he heard another voice, a stranger.
"Durkin? Where is he?"
"In the car."
"Well, bring him in, bring him in!"
Seconds later the blanket was yanked away from the boy, leaving Davey itching from the wool. He blinked as he glanced up, seeing his father as a shadow standing by the door. Beyond him was the house, showing no lights even though the door was open.
"All right, get out."
Davey moved as quickly as he could, not wanting to be hit again. It was hard, though, stiff as he was from the uncomfortable position he had been forced to maintain.
His father's hand caught him by the shoulder, twisted him around to stand before him. Now he caught his first look at the man who was waiting. It was too dark to really make him out, but he loomed even larger than his father.
"Inside," said the man. "Quickly, man!"
They were through the door, which closed solidly, and lights sprang on. Davey blinked, holding his hand against the unexpected glare, not seeing anything for a moment.
"Jesus, you didn't tell me you had half-killed him!"
"Shit, he's all right," said Durkin. "Just used my belt on him."
"It'll take a month for those marks to clear! Damn it, Durkin, I told you this is a fast operation. I can't sell him as he is."
"Do you want him or not?" demanded Durkin.
"Don't push me."
There was an ugly tone, read by both the boy and his father. Instantly Durkin became contrite.
"I'm sorry. Look, maybe I did get carried away when I beat him, but just look at him. He's just what you said you wanted -- pretty, with a nice-shaped ass. And hair on his balls."
"Mmmm. He is attractive." The man caught Davey's chin, tilting his head. "Look at me, boy."
Davey stared into his eyes. The man was perhaps his father's size, although a few years older, and much more attractive. There was a strange look in his eyes as he gazed at the boy. Compassion? "Well?" demanded Durkin, after a minute. He was obviously nervous. "What do you think?"
"I think you're a damn fool. But damn fools keep me in business."
"Then it's a deal? A thousand bucks?"
"If you're sure you want to go through with it."
"Oh, I'm sure! I won't change my mind."
"All right. Come into the office," Lacking other instructions, Davey tagged after the men into a room that even he could tell was furnished with expensive antiques. A table served as a desk, a metal box was on it. The man sat down, opening the box to bring out a sheaf of currency. He separated part of the stack and handed it to Davey's father.
"Count it, then leave it on the desk."
Durkin counted quickly, nervously, going over the stack twice when he lost his concentration. He nodded, dropping the money on the edge of the desk.
"A thousand even."
"Read this." The man handed him a form. "Sign it, and you get the money."
Durkin stared at the form a moment, then looked up.
"Problems?" asked the man.
"This says that I sell and renounce all my interest and claims in my son, that I will never pursue what has happened to him, that I acknowledge that I am selling him into perpetual servitude."
"That is what you're doing, isn't it?"
"Yeah, but how come your name isn't on it? There's only a place for my name."
"The contract is not legal, Mr. Durkin, not under the laws of this country, or indeed, most countries. Thus you cannot sue me if you decide later that you made a mistake. Nor can I ever sue you. With your name on the contract, however, I do have protection. By signing, you admit and share guilt."
"And if I don't sign?"
"Then you take the boy and leave."
"And that's the end of it?"
"Certainly. Of course, you'll never have a second chance, the opportunity to reconsider. You must decide now."
He glanced at the boy, at the man, at the stack of money on the desk, licking his lips. He grimaced.
"I'll sign."
It was done quickly, his signature scribbled beneath the typed version, and then the contract was out of his hand.
"You can take your money now. Please leave, Mr. Durkin."
Davey's father scooped up the stack of bills and turned to leave the room, this time not glancing at his son. Davey watched him go, heard the outside door open and close, heard a moment later the roar of the car's engine as gas was fed too quickly.
"Well, David. Look at me."
He turned to do as the man had said, feeling strangely uncomfortable.
"Do you understand what has happened, David?"
He shook his head. "No, sir."
"That's good, David, you show the proper respect. It's not the proper term, but you'll learn. Quickly."
The man smiled, coming around the table to take Davey's arm in his hand, running his fingers over the bruises. He made a face.
"A brutal man. But you'll never have to worry about him again, David. You'll never see him again. He sold you to me. Do you know what that makes you?"
The boy shook his head, "No, sir."
"You're my slave, David, I own you. I can do whatever I want to you. Your body is now my property."
Suddenly his finger stabbed at the boy's ass, probed into the rectum, while his other hand reached to caress Davey's cock, pulling it out straight. Davey winced, and tried to pull away -- only to have his ear cuffed.
"None of that, David! You do not fight me, or those I appoint over you. You are a slave, David -- a slave! You must do whatever I tell you, whatever your master tells you when I sell you. If I want to fuck you, you must take my cock. If I tell you to suck me, lick me, lick my ass, drink my piss, eat my shit, you will do it instantly. Do you understand what I am saying?"
He shook his head, not wanting to acknowledge what the man was saying. The man grinned.
"You will understand, David. For the moment, just remember that I am 'Master'. You will call me that at all times, until I sell you to another. Well?"
"Yes, Master."
Davey choked, remembering Tommy's joking words of this afternoon. But this was no joke, this was reality! His father had sold him to this man, and now he was a slave! A slave!
"Very good, David. You'll respond more quickly once you are trained, but this is adequate for the moment."
Davey shivered. "I'm cold, Master." This time the pause before the hated acknowledge was shorter.
"You're nervous, David. The house is adequately heated. I intend to take very good care of you, feed you well. After all, I want to realize the highest possible price for you. Of course, what your buyer does with you is his affair. He might starve you, freeze you, whip you, but while you are here you will be punished only when you disobey, or refuse to learn."
"May I get dressed, Master?" His clothes were all at home at his father's house. He must remember that it was no longer his home!
"No, David. You will never wear clothes again, unless the master who buys you decides otherwise. In my house you will be naked."
The man's name had never been given, but now his hands roamed gently over the boy's breast and back, moved lovingly across his ass. Suddenly he bent to press his lips against Davey's cheek.
"You're a beautiful, boy, David," he said, softly. "Your father is a fool for selling you. You'll make some man very happy. You'll make me happy, having you here for these next few weeks."
The man's mouth moved across the boy's, lips touching and then crushing Davey's pout, the adult tongue probing at the opening and against the teeth. Davey gasped, opening automatically to him, restraining the impulse to fight him off. He could not fight, he must do what he was told. If he didn't, he would be punished!
His master pushed him toward an antique sofa, his ass hitting against the intricate brocade design as he sat down hard. The kiss continued, the man's tongue probing deep as his fingers curled around Davey's erecting cock, lifting the soft velvet sac of the nuts.
"Oh, David, David! You are such a beautiful child! It will be easy to love you!"
He was sifting beside Davey, his hands roaming over the boy's body as his tongue continued to probe against the beautiful young face. An intricate path was traced from ear to chin to eyes, Davey's face wet now with his saliva. A hand dropped to the small of his back, lips pushing back while fingers pulled forward until the boy arched.
Then the other hand found the nipples, tweaked and pinched and pulled each in turn until they stood out hard, reddened.
"You love cock, don't you, Davey?"
"Yes!" he gasped. "Yes, Master!"
"And you love men."
Lips continued to move over the boy's face as Davey gasped the same answer again, hands continuing to slide across the nakedness of his body. Many times a bruise was touched, pressed too hard so that pain darted and the boy found it hard to swallow a cry; but the constantly searching lips were always there to still the pain, to stir the sexual excitement that was burning through his loins.
"You're hard, David."
The boy's prick stood straight against the cupping fingers that worked up and down the shaft, the dry glans battering against the palm until a drop of fluid welled to lubricate it slightly, make the fucking movement more pleasurable. Davey was holding the man now by the arms, breathing hungrily when given the chance, his ass trembling, his legs shivering at the touch of the other.
"Beautiful prick," he murmured, softly, against the boy's ear. "So big for a boy, so straight, so hard! Beautiful balls, David. Just the right size."
Suddenly he was slipping from the couch, falling to his knees, moving between Davey's legs, his lips touching the very tip of the boy's cock. Davey gasped again as the pleasure-sensation flooded through him, making him shiver, making him thrust his ass up against those lips.
"Oh, oh, oh! Suck me! Suck me, Master!"
The man smiled as the boy remembered to add the term of respect, looking up to Davey's eyes closed. The boy touched his head, his fingers moving through his hair, his ass flexing eagerly.
"Please, Master! Please, suck me!"
A fingertip traced the outlines of the small pubic patch, moving along the crack of leg and groin to feel the space under the balls where there was no hair at all. Davey spread his legs wider, one foot coming up to the edge of the sofa, followed a moment later by the other. The finger moved down the tube of the urethra to the crack of his ass, moved across the bruised sphincter, rubbing gently but not trying to probe within.
"Do you love me, David?"
"Oh, yes! Yes, Master!"
"Say it, then."
"I love you, Master! I love you!"
"No matter what I decide to do to you?"
"You can do anything you want, Master! You own me!"
"I can fuck you?"
"Yes, yes!"
The fingers tightened round his cock and balls. "Yes, what?"
"Yes, Master!"
"Say it, slave! Say everything I can do to you! Say everything I said before!"
"You can fuck me, Master! I'll suck you, Master! I'll do anything you tell me to do, Master!"
"Say the rest! Say everything!"
What did he want? The fingers touching him were carrying Davey to a height of sexual pleasure that he had never before imagined. His cock burned in the empty air, when touched by that hand. His ass worked, wanting to fuck up, wanting to fill that mouth, wanting to feel the cooling tongue and lips. God, but he wanted him! He'd do anything the man said if only he'd satisfy this terrible sexual hunger! What did he want?
Davey remembered. "Master, I-I'll lick you."
"And?"
"I'll lick your ass."
"I think I have to piss, slave."
"You, you can piss on me, Master."
"On you?"
"I-I'll drink your piss, if you want, Master."
"And?"
The boy sobbed. "Please! Please, Master!"
"Say it!"
The command thundered, and the hand tightened around Davey's cock and balls again, squeezing painfully. The boy gasped, but his cock did not soften. Tears rolled down his cheeks from eyelids that were tightly closed.
"Say it!" the man demanded again. "I've got to take a shit, slave! What are you going to do?"
He sobbed. "I'll eat your shit!"
"Master!"
"Master."
Satisfied, he let go of Davey's cock, wiping his hand on his trouser legs, although he was still kneeling between the boy's legs. A smile moved across his face as he reached up to lift Davey's chin.
"You're a good boy, David. You learn quickly. Now I'll show you that everything isn't punishment. I'm going to make you feel very good."
His lips moved down, touched the right nipple and then the left, sucking deeply as the boy gasped against him. Davey arched again, hands holding the back of the man's head. When he came away, red marks burst into being around the tit.
"What do you like best, David?"
The lips moved down farther as he said it, the tongue probing into the depths of his navel, the lips sucking hard again, the teeth nibbling at the little hole.
"I like to be sucked! Master!"
"Like this?"
He dove down onto the boy's cock, taking all of Davey in the first motion, the prick stick probing against the back of the experienced mouth. The man swallowed, his tongue and his cheeks working around the shape of the cock, and Davey shivered with delight.
"Yes! Yes, Master! Oh, oh! Suck me, please! Please, Master!"
The man's hands moved beneath his ass, lifting the boy and pulling him closer to the edge of the sofa. Davey's knees sagged apart, his feet still on the cushion, pushing up now so that his ass raised as that laying tongue probed against his cock again. His balls were drawn tight in their sac as he gasped with pleasure when the man sucked him all the way in again, then came off.
"Does that feel good, David?"
"Oh, yes, Master! Yes!"
He smiled, returned to his task, sucking faster now, taking all of the boy cock into his mouth then releasing all except the very tip, holding that by the sucking pressure of his lips. The sensation was far greater, far more pleasurable, than Tommy had imparted that afternoon. The man was a professional at sucking, knew everything that must be done to bring a boy or a man to the very height of sexual excitement.
Davey gasped, ass humping: "Suck me, Master! Suck me, Master! Suck me!"
The lips worked, the throat sucked, the head bobbed up and down in ever-increasing speed until it was no more than a blur. Davey wasn't looking, his eyes were closed as he held to the cushion of the sofa with both hands, as his ass fucked up.
"Oh! Oh, Master! Master! I'm coming! I'm coming! OHHHHHHHHHHHH!"