Message-ID: <34302asstr$1009440604@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Path: not-for-mail From: worthlesspainslut@hotmail.com (e. wolf) X-Original-Message-ID: Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit NNTP-Posting-Date: 27 Dec 2001 02:43:50 GMT X-ASSTR-Arrival-Date: 26 Dec 2001 18:43:50 -0800 Subject: {ASSM} Jazz's Toys Part 10: The Hitchhiker (M+/M, nc rape torture kidnap) Date: Thu, 27 Dec 2001 03:10:04 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, dennyw Disclaimer: Don't read this if you're not s'posed to. Anyone who does any of the things described in this story is a sick, horrible person and needs to be put in jail. This story is not for underage or mentally unstable people, or for the easily offended. Author's note: Okay, it's a little strange for me to be writing an all-male chapter of any kind of torture story, but i've had a few people ask for one and i thought Jazz would be just the sadist to star in it, so here goes. Hope it doesn't suck!) Jazz's Toys Part 10: The Hitchhiker (M+/M, nc rape torture kidnap) by e. wolf Jazz was exactly the kind of person that made teenagers' mothers warn them not to hitchhike. He even looked like it, with his shaved, scarred head and a body covered in so many tattoos they were visible sticking up above the collar of his denim jacket. So why did so many hitchhikers wind up getting into his car? He wondered that as he stared over at the sleeping, dishevelled young man in the passenger seat. Well, perhaps sleeping wasn't quite the right word - unconscious would be more accurate. A well-aimed hypodermic to the thigh had taken care of that. Jazz pulled into a dark alley beside Sully's tavern and unloaded the kid into an open doorway. Sully had a little apartment upstairs that he let Jazz use whenever he needed to. In exchange, Jazz would provide the `entertainment' for the club on Friday nights - usually some stuck-up cunt who needed to be taught a lesson, or a prissy little virgin ripe to be abused. But occasionally he would throw the rough-and-tumble clientele a little curveball, and for the most part they didn't seem to mind too much. He'd brought them a senator's son one time, the punk-ass kid of some law-and-order politician who was trying to crack down on biker gangs - who comprised a large segment of Sully's clientele. Rumour had it the kid had been able to walk again, although it would probably be a number of years before he could shit normally again - one of Sully's more enthusiastic patrons had jammed a pool cue so far up the kid's ass he'd needed surgery. Another time it had been the hockey coach of Sully's own son. It seemed the coach had a predilection for little boy cock, and Sully's loyal patrons had sent him home with his own cock sewn tightly to his ballsac, and `Child Molester' tattooed in black ink across the entire surface of his face. But more often it wasn't revenge that underscored the fun at Sully's on Friday nights - it was pain. Pain for whichever toy Jazz had chosen to provide for the patrons' entertainment, and the participants paid handsomely for the privilege of being a part of it. Jazz dragged the hitchhiker up a flight of stairs to the apartment. He was in his mid-twenties, tall and lanky with long curly hair and a goatee. He weighed next to nothing, though, and Jazz wasn't even remotely winded by the time he dropped him on the old iron cot in the bedroom. The guy had been waiting by the side of the road with his battered guitar case at his feet and his army fatigue jacket slung over his shoulder, a hippie-wannabe born in the wrong decade. He'd said his name was Jesse and he was hitching across country to make his fortune as a folk singer. He asked Jazz if he knew anywhere local he could buy weed. Jazz had told him he had some good dope in the glove compartment. That's where he kept the syringe. Jesse found himself waking up on his stomach, his face buried in the sagging, stained mattress of an old cot. He had a headache and blinked for a minute to remember where he was. He couldn't, of course. He was three hundred and fifty miles away from the last place he remembered, although naturally he had no way of knowing that. "Are you awake?" a voice said. Jesse started and tried to roll over. He couldn't do that, either, and suddenly realized his ankles were tied to the iron footboard of the narrow cot. "What's going on?" he tried to shout, his voice muffled by the mattress. "Well, you said you liked to party," the voice said. It was a deep voice, resonant, somehow familiar. "So I thought I'd invite you to a party. It might be a little different than the kind you're used to, but the cool part is you get to be the guest of honour." Jesse began to struggle at that, trying to pull himself free of the bindings that held him to the cot. With something like nausea he realized he was naked. "What's the matter with you, you fucking homo?" he said. "Let me go. I don't want to party with you. Untie me, you motherfucking bastard." Jazz laughed. "I've fucked a lot of things," he said with a smile. "But I never did fuck my mother. I watched my dad fuck her, though. And his friends. And the neighbours. And people she'd never even met before." Jesse recoiled in horror as he felt a rough, callused hand on the smooth, nearly hairless cheeks of his ass. "Don't touch me!" he shrieked, his voice shrill. "Oh, I'll be touching you," Jazz assured him. "And so will all my friends. It's gonna be a long, long night for you, Jesse." He untied the young man from the bed and dragged him, struggling and squirming, over to a metal table in the next room. Jazz had gotten the thing years earlier, a gift from a grateful gynecologist who'd been invited to one of the Friday night events at Sully's. It still had the stirrups at the foot end, but Jazz had modified them with shackles at the ankles and straps that went just above and just below the knees, as well as straps at the waist and neck and iron cuffs for the `patient's' wrists. It took some doing, but after a few minutes Jazz had his wriggling new toy firmly attached to the table. "What are you doing, you sick faggot?" Jazz smiled, standing between Jesse's splayed legs and stroking his lower belly. "I'm getting you ready for a party, sweetmeat," Jazz told him. "First we're gonna have to do something about this bush of yours, though. It's a little too shaggy for my tastes." He left Jesse squirming and swearing on the table for a few minutes while he went into the bathroom. When he returned he was carrying a shaving basin and a menacing-looking straight razor. "I'd hold still if I were you," he said, showing it to his still-struggling prisoner. "I'd hate to slip with this in my hand." That stopped Jesse dead in mid-expletive, and his eyes widened in horror at the sight of the massive blade. Jazz hummed tunelessly as he began to lather up Jesse's balls, his limp dick, his belly and ass. "Please don't cut me," Jesse whispered. "Please, I'll do anything, please don't cut me." Jazz looked at him, frankly astonished. "Why do you cunts always say that?" he wondered. "I mean, you always say `please, I'll do anything,' but you really have no idea what that means, do you? I mean, obviously you'll do anything I want you to - you're the one strapped to the table with his cock in the air." Jazz was skilled with the razor - he used it to shave his own head every day, after all - and it wasn't long before Jesse was bare from his mid-thighs up to his navel. "There we go," he said, giving Jesse's flaccid cock a friendly slap. "Smooth as smooth can be. But I'd hate for your skin to go getting all dry, so I think we'll put some baby oil on it." Jazz retrieved a bottle from the bathroom and poured a liberal amount into his hands. Jesse flinched at the feel of the cold oil on his sensitive skin as his hulking, tattoo-covered kidnapper began to massage his newly-shaved scrotum. Jazz gave him a wicked grin as he felt Jesse's cock begin to twitch beneath his fingers. "Now who's the faggot?" he said. "Looks like you're getting a stiffy, little Jesse." Jesse moaned and writhed as, sure enough, his cock stood at attention. Jazz's grin turned to a mischievous look as he adjusted the stirrups to bring Jesse's legs straight. "What are you doing? Please, stop. Whatever it is, please. You'll go to jail." "Oh, that's okay," Jazz said. "I've been to jail. I'm not likely to go back, though. I've got cops and judges from all over the country who like to go to my parties. If I go to jail, they don't get to party with me and my little friends anymore." He gave Jesse's now fully-erect cock a playful slap. "Right, little friend?" He laughed and began to unfasten his pants and Jesse recoiled in horror. "What are you going to do?" he said, a pleading note in his voice. "It's not what I'm going to do, Jesse, it's what you're going to do. You obviously like to fuck guys up the ass, don't you? I mean, you're getting so hard from me just touching your cock that it's obvious to me you want to put it somewhere. So I'm gonna sit on your dick and go for a little ride. How would you like that?" "You're a twisted asshole, you know that?" Jazz laughed. "You'd better hope my asshole's not twisted," he said. He tweaked Jesse's cock and Jesse whined with pain. "Cos otherwise this is gonna hurt you a lot." Jazz stepped out of his pants, and Jesse's first thought was it was a good thing his cock was going into Jazz's asshole and not the other way around. Jazz had the largest cock he'd ever seen on a guy, even hanging half-limp as it was right now. Jazz smiled as he saw Jesse staring at his half-hard organ. "Don't worry, little man," he said as he straddled the table. "You'll get to have my cock in you soon enough. And all my friends' cocks too. And won't that be - unh! - fun?" Jazz let out a grunt of effort as he let his own weight impale his asshole on Jesse's cock. He squeezed his sphincter tightly as Jesse moaned in humiliated pleasure. Jazz began to massage the cock with his anal muscles, and it wasn't long before Jesse's cock was spurting unbidden into the huge man. By the time he'd finished riding his young victim to completion, Jazz's own cock had gone from half to three-quarters full. Jesse moaned as he emptied his balls, tears of embarrassment streaming down his face. Jazz stood as Jesse's cock softened, and moved forward so his crotch was directly over Jesse's face. "Now you've made a mess of my nice clean asshole," he said, grinding his ass down over Jesse's mouth, his cock bobbing between . "Now you can clean it up. Every drop." He relaxed his clenched ass muscles to expel what seemed like a gallon of disgusting, shit-laced cum into Jesse's mouth. Jesse gagged and tried to spit it out, but Jazz gripped the boy's head tightly between his thighs until he'd finished swallowing the mess. "What's the matter?" Jazz said. "Not used to the taste of cum? That's okay, you'll be used to it by the end of the night. Here, have some more." And without ceremony he grabbed Jesse's jaw in his hands and forced it open, shoving his cock down the young man's throat. He didn't have much time left alone with his new toy, and he wanted to cum in him at least once before his guests started to arrive. The boy gasped and thrashed as his jaw was held open and the huge slab of flesh between his kidnapper's legs invaded his airway. Gagging noises escaped him as he struggled to breathe. Jazz rode him hard, enjoying the feeling of the tight gullet stimulating his shaft first to full erection, then to orgasm. He pulled out slightly as he came, letting the boy's mouth fill with cum, grinding his asshole against Jesse's nose so he had no choice but to swallow Jazz's cum. "Mmm, that was good," Jazz said. "Your mouth makes a good cunt, Jesse. Now we'll find out if your asshole does, too." There was already a crowd waiting as Jazz dragged the sobbing, naked young man downstairs to the bar, his freshly-shaved cock and balls flapping ass Jazz shoved him into the middle of the throng. "There he is, ladies and gentlemen," Jazz said, looking around at the all-male crowd. "Well, gentlemen, anyway. This is Jesse and he'll be our main event for this evening." Jesse shuddered, trying to cover his exposed genitals. However, he suddenly found both his arms seized and fastened to shackles overhead. "Let me go! Let me go! Let me - UH!" Jesse's protests were cut short by a heavy fist slamming into his belly. "This is my cousin Mungo, Jesse," Jazz said into his ear as Mungo punched him twice more. "Mungo has the biggest cock of any guy I've ever seen. I saved that nice virgin ass of yours for him." Jesse began weeping anew, pulling at the cuffs around his wrists in a last-ditch effort to escape, but there was no chance. "I always like fresh meat," Mungo said, seizing Jesse's ass cheeks and pulling them apart to probe his finger between them. "But first I like to tenderize it." And he pulled his belt from his pants. So did about ten of the bar's other patrons. Jesse let out a tortured scream as the belts began to fall across his skin, leaving wide red-and-purple marks all over his thighs, belly, back and ass. He dangled helplessly, bawling as a dozen thick leather straps cut into his flesh. He swayed back and forth under their impact, wailing with pain and humiliation. When the men had tired of whipping him, Jazz unhooked him from the ceiling and had him bend over in the centre of the room, legs spread wide, grabbing his ankles in his hands. "Now we're gonna see how many cocks you can take up that ass of yours in the course of a night," Jazz said. "We've got a small crowd here, only a hundred and fifty guys tonight, but some of them are pretty virile - they can maybe go two, three times apiece." Jesse wailed as he felt Mungo's cock pressing against his asshole. The huge man had slathered his cock with Vaseline, but it still felt like he was jamming a baseball bat into the younger man's tight asshole. "Now don't fall over," Jazz said. "Or I'll have to stick my cock down your throat again to help you keep your balance." Mungo was in him a long time, his thick pole digging tunnels in poor Jesse's bowels as the huge man took his sweet time fucking the tight virgin ass. "Oh, yeah, that's a good little boycunt," Mungo groaned as he finally shot his load. Jesse felt like his bowels were being dragged out his asshole as Mungo extracted his half-hard cock with a squelching sound. He could feel the hot cum dribbling down his legs as a second man lined up against his open hole. By the time the fifteenth or twentieth cock had been in Jesse's asshole, he wasn't able to keep his balance anymore, his legs cramped up, his belly aching from the thrusting of cock after cock. With a moan, he collapsed to his knees. "Oh, look!" Jazz said. "Our little toy wants a rest." He bent over and looked Jesse square in the eye. "Would you like a rest, slut?" Jesse nodded wearily. "P-please. Just stop. Please let me go. Let me go, let me go, let me g-" Jesse's pleading lament was suddenly stoppered up with a cock in his mouth. He began to thrash about, trying to back away as a stranger began to thrust into his face. He didn't get far, though, as yet another dick suddenly slid into his sloppy, distended anal cavity. His pleas sounded more like "oog, oohg, ook" than anything comprehensible. After an age, he felt the man fucking his ass begin to quicken his pace, just as the balls slapping against his chin began to tighten. They came nearly at the same time, and Jesse coughed and sobbed, cum drooling down his chin and his thighs. He didn't have any time to recover, though, as two more cocks plugged up each end. On and on it went, cock after cock. Jesse kept track for a little while, twenty-five, thirty, fifty cocks, but after an hour or two his vision blurred and he felt himself growing faint. He kept sucking, kept kneeling, tried to stay awake, but eventually he went into what felt like a trance, his vision blurring, his mind drifting. He was startled finally to realize both his holes were empty and Jazz was holding his hair, dragging him to his feet. "Did you enjoy that, cunt?" Jazz asked. "No," Jesse moaned, reeling, barely able to support himself. "Well, you'll like this," Jazz said. "I'm gonna let you go." Suddenly Jesse perked up a little. He hadn't really heard anything that had been said to him for the past few hours, but Jazz's words broke through his haze. "Really?" he said. "That's right. As soon as you clean the floor." Jazz gripped Jesse's hair tighter, pointing his face back toward the grimy concrete floor, now pooled with dried cum and Jesse's blood. "Go on, cunt. Lick it all up." Jesse sobbed, but he wasn't really crying now. He was beyond pain, beyond degradation, beyond tears. He lowered his head to the lake of reeking scum and extended his tongue, trying not to vomit. "Once you've swallowed it all, I'll let you go, I promise." Jazz's voice spurred him on as he choked down the horrifying mess, cum mixed with the dirt and spilled beer on the bar floor. It seemed to take him forever to lick up the mess, the few spectators remaining in the bar cheering him on as he gagged and retched. Finally the floor glistened with Jesse's saliva and Jazz stood over him, arms crossed over his chest, grinning. "Very nice, cunt. Now suck me off and we'll go for a little ride." Jesse looked up at the bulge in Jazz's jeans. The thought of another cock in his mouth made him begin to wail again. "But you said -" "I said swallow it all and you can go. I'm a man of my word and I meant what I said. Suck my cock and swallow it all. If you spill any on the floor I'm afraid we'll have to start this all over again." Instinctively Jesse opened his mouth to take Jazz's cock inside. He'd become quite the cocksucker over the past few hours, Jazz thought as he fucked the boy's throat hard. And with so little training. It was fully two days later when the bruised, naked and completely disoriented young man stumbled into a police station babbling about a kidnapping and a gang rape. The psychopath had kept him in the trunk of his car for who knew how long, driving for nearly a day and a night to this forsaken little hamlet somewhere ... well, he guessed it was in the mountains somewhere, but he didn't have the inclination to stop and look around right now. Jazz had dropped him off right outside the police station - the idiot, Jesse thought with something like triumph. But the sheriff's deputy behind the counter looked nonplussed at his tale, sitting with his feet up on the desk, fidgeting with a pencil. "A big bald guy, tattoos all over him?" the deputy echoed, his voice loud enough to get the attention of the sheriff in the next room. "What's that, Harry?" The cop pointed at Jesse with a smirk. "This guy says he got picked up hitchhiking by some big tattooed sadist who took him to a bar and let a couple hundred guys fuck him." "Really?" The sheriff smiled, and suddenly Jesse felt a thrill of terror coursing through his body. "I know," said the deputy. "How rude of Jazz to have a party and not invite us." The sheriff, a huge man nearly the size of Jazz, came out of his office and threw an arm around Jesse's shoulders. "But that's okay, son," he said. "We can have our own little party here. Whyn'cha come in the back with us and we'll have some fun?" *end of part ten* the author welcomes any questions/comments/suggestions for further installments of this series. worthlesspainslut@hotmail.com -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+