The Neighbour Part 2 of 6 By Ruthless@nbnet.nb.ca MM/m rape
DISCLAIMER: This story depicts violent gay sex. If you are underage or don't enjoy material of that nature, please do not read this story. If you want missing instalments, other stories or to let me know what you think about this one, or to point out any mistakes I made or improvements that I should have put in, you can contact me, (the author) at Ruthless@nbnet.nb.ca
Old Mr. Wilson had lived alone the last fifteen years. I dropped over there rarely. He wasn't social and never seemed pleased to see me. I had to think up excuses to come around, in truth, and only got there maybe once a week because I knew he had trouble with his heart.
Last November I'd walked into his kitchen and smelt a sweetish, really nasty smell and found him dead in his robe on the floor. He was lying face down in front of the fridge with a bottle of tablets beside him. I thought they would be heart pills and I looked to see, but they were only Tylenol pills. All the same, he had most likely been trying to take them for angina. He'd been dead around three days when I had found him, the smell so bad that I just couldn't stay in his kitchen. I'd gone home to call the RCMP.
Old Kaspar Wilson had been three days before I went to check on him. How long would it be before anyone found me? Let's see. I was thinking quite coolly by now. It was the third of June. Around the twenty-third of the month, I was expecting the guy from organic certification to come around. He wouldn't come without phoning first. If he got no answer, he wouldn't come at all. The mail man might notice that I wasn't picking up my mail from my box four miles down the road, but how long would it take for him to suggest someone had better come around and look? A lot of days, for certain. And how long would it take to die of thirst, if they left me tied up in my own barn?
Living alone, I had thought of these things before. There's always a chance that the tractor could roll, or I could loose an argument with one of the livestock. I know a guy who lost his entire calf muscle to a sow that had just farrowed. He walks with a pretty pronounced limp. Of course, I've always been real careful, but my land isn't flat and pigs are no use unless you raise piglets. So I'd known that I was running some risks living so far off the beaten track and I was pretty sure it would take two or three weeks minimum, before I started to be missed. By then, at best, I'd be in bad shape.
The two guys had had time to search my house thoroughly before they came back. They swaggered into the barn again. Harry had the shotgun. He was balancing it on his hip and holding it with a loving protectiveness. Nick was wearing that narrow smile. It was probably late afternoon by then, hours after they'd left me to stew. I was breathing normally. I looked at them quietly.
"You don't own a single fucking thing that's worth keeping." Nick informed me, "And your house is a hell of a lot less tidy now."
Harry got straight to the point. "Will you suck my dick?"
"Yes." I didn't have much of a voice.
Harry gave a great triumphant crow. "Yes! You hear that? Pussy-boy said yes! He wants it now!"
"Would you please untie me?" I said.
"What the fuck for?" Nick asked.
Harry moved in. He stood astraddle of my lap with his trouser fly in front of my face. "C'mon, cocksucker. I know you want this." He had trouble un-zippering with the shotgun in his hands. He tugged at the zipper teeth. His prick pushed out again. "Changed your mind about playing hard to get, didn't you? Don't worry. We're not taking off before you get to feel some man cock pounding your butt."
When it was in front of my mouth like that, I could smell it again. It was the musky sweaty smell of damp from a man's crotch. My eyes took in the bullet shaped head, the thickness of the shaft with the veins bulging purple under the skin.
"You do a good fucking job on us, Faggot." Nick said. "And we'll forget that you pissed us off. No hard feelings. We'll even leave you in okay shape when we take off." He laughed.
With that promise to sustain me, I opened my mouth.
I felt the soft, firm head of the prick slide over my hard palate and I had a second to taste the strong salty flavour of his skin before it pushed into the back of my throat. Right off, I gagged. I hadn't imagined what it would be like, other than gross. I discovered that it was difficult as well.
The man had his prick stuffed all the way in as far as it would go. It wouldn't go far. It was stopped at the depth of my gag reflex. My eyes bulged.
"Suck it good, Dick-Mouth." Harry hissed at me.
I can do this, I said to myself. Grimly, I did it. I tongued his shaft. I made my lips tight on it and bobbed my head back and forth. I worked up enough saliva somehow to make his prick slide smoothly and wetly. Each time it made me gag I jerked back but each time I pushed my face forward and took it again.
"Oh yeah, Pussy-boy loves this." Harry breathed. The stock of the shotgun was at the corner of my forehead. Nick had moved in where he could watch close by. I saw him peripherally on the other side, a reminder that I had more to survive ahead of me after I finished giving the first blowjob that I'd ever given.
The prick turned out to have gristly feel in my mouth. It wasn't perfectly round but had ridges concealed within the shape. Every sensation was distinct. I was emotionally numb. I just had to go on doing it.
Harry's prick was naked. It only hit me what that was going to mean as the bastard was gasping and pushing to meet me rhythmically and getting close to cumming. "Swallow it, you dirty shit, Come on, swallow it." he muttered.
Right. That too. I'd have to swallow cum. I took in his command without emotion. He took my jaw in his hand, fingers pinching where they were closed on my cheeks. I felt him twitch. A series of twitches got stronger before the cum squirted my mouth. I'd thought I was ready for it but my eyes went wide at the overpowering salt and slime. Harry groaned and I gagged, but I started swallowing it.
After he was done he moved back. His face was twisted with revulsion as he looked down at me and shook himself back inside again.
I made my voice steady. "Okay. I sucked it, just like you wanted. I'm doing what you want. All you have to do is tell me." My mouth was coated with the taste of cum.
"It's my turn now," said Nick.
I turned my head to face him. "Okay. Would you like a blow job?" My voice was hoarse.
"No." said Nick.
I just looked at him. He didn't supply me with instructions. And he sure wasn't telling me that he was going to leave me alone. "What would you like me to do?" I said.
"Ever been fist fucked?"
My eyes lost focus. Just for a second at his words I shut down. I got it back and forced one word out. "No." It was survivable, I reminded myself. What he'd described, that was survivable and that was what I was trying to do here, the only thing I was trying to do here, to stay alive.
"Or how about..." Nick cocked his head on one side. "Think you could tongue fuck my asshole?"
"Sure." I said.
He stopped playing with me and his smile wiped away. "I'm going to fuck your butt, Faggot. Get ready to take some hard cock up your ass!"
"You do what you want." I said with an effort.
He hauled me off of the bale and tried to turn me over. He couldn't do that, not with my wrists fixed up to the railing the way they were. He nearly broke my wrists twisting me about. With my hands tied to the rail and my feet tied together by my bootlaces, he couldn't get at me the way he wanted. He punched me as he struggled me about. After some frustration, he untied my wrists from the railing.
I felt a quick surge of hope when my wrists were undone, but what could I do? Harry stood over us with the shotgun. I couldn't fight Nick. And then Nick took the trailing pieces of rope and he tied my wrists over again in the small of my back.
"Come on, you shit!" He urged me. "Get ready for it." I let him shove me about. I didn't push back. I forced myself to give into him.
He set me up with my chest and neck on the hay bale but then my feet were in the way when he tried to get behind me. I drew my knees as far forward as I could, to help him as he clawed at me. He could get at me like that. My ass felt very bare and very cold. There was an eager throaty note to his breathing.
Nick didn't put a condom on either. His fingernails dug into the cheeks of my ass, pulling them wide. He unzipped his clothes. I felt his dick waggle against my ass cheeks as he got into place.
"You're a turd, Farmer," he said. "This is what you want. I know this is what you want."
I felt sick with rage. I'd read stuff and I'd thought about what it would be like. But I'd never really done any stuff. The closest I'd ever come to sex before was feeling my date up at a dance. This was new to me. All I knew was what I'd read. So I had the miserable thought, maybe I'm going to get turned on by this.
I wasn't turned on when the contemptuous bastard began pushing his prick against my backside. And I sure as hell didn't suddenly get turned on when Nick squeezed the fat head of his prick past the ring of my clenched muscles. I felt pain, blindingly sharp, so bad that I wanted to thrash and fling myself off the bale. My mouth hung open and my eyes were huge as I tried to cope with the pain. I didn't yell out loud.
Oh, my God... Oh, my God. This is bad, I thought. Nick jerked into me with very short, savage thrusts. A film of sweat came out on me, wet in my armpits because of the pain.
"Fucking pussy!" Nick demanded. "Does it hurt? Doesn't it hurt!" he yelled.
"Yes," I gasped.
"You fucking pussy!" I felt his soft balls banging and swaying against me. His thighs were like rock with tension. His shoes gritted as he braced on the concrete ground. I was frantic to get away from the pain and completely unable to do anything. I tossed my head from side to side. We were panting almost in cadence. I wanted Nick to cum. I wanted him to cum desperately, so it would be over.
I can't stand this one more minute, I thought. It went on. Nick punched me again. I had to go on taking it. I knew that Harry was standing close above me, pointing the shotgun directly at my head, but I didn't look up at him. I knew it because I could see his legs standing close, peripherally. I looked at the straw bale.
There was a mouse in it. Sometimes when the baler teeth come down, there's a mouse caught and packed in with the straw, and the baler teeth had cut it in two. I was looking at a little grey fragment of an animal. I stared at it with stunned eyes.
Nick was at it awhile. When he came, he did it deep in my ass. He did it at the top of a stroke. I didn't realise that he had cum until he stopped moving and then he pulled back. He pulled slow, pushing on my ass again to get himself free. It was slick and I felt his cock swing down when it fell out of me.
I looked behind. Something dripped. I looked at the two men. They had mean, satisfied expressions on their faces. I felt raw. My asshole ached. It was over. Deliberately I stiffened my face, so that I had no expression on. I hid the pain.
Nick tucked his cock into his pants. "You cum bucket." he sneered.
Untie me, I thought.
Harry moved in. He kicked me. My body rocked. I tried to shuffle awkwardly away. "Dirty fucking pansy boy!" he exclaimed. He raised his foot for another kick. I couldn't avoid it. He kicked me off of the bale.
I'd kept my breathing under control pretty well, while they were having their fun with me, but now it quickened. The kicks hurt. I couldn't get away from them. Harry kept moving in. I was up against the lower railing of the calf pen. I curled up. The toe of his boot impacted against my ribs. "You fucking pansy!" He pointed the shotgun at me.
He's going to shoot me, I thought. My eyes must have been blazing with terror. I didn't say a word. I kept my knees tucked against my chest where they could protect my crotch from his kicks and waited for him to pull the trigger. My teeth were bared. I thought for certain he was going to squeeze the trigger on the shotgun.
End of Part 2 of 6