Chapter Nine - The Confrontation
(Eric Tucker, 20, is in the final week of his probationary period as an assistant supervisor. His week is not going well. Having made and lost a foolish bet at the final softball game of the season, his coworkers have it in for him - as does the opposing team. He has just finished a difficult session with Max Bockstrop, the owner of Bockstrop's Pharmacy. He's been given an enema kit and told to use it before returning at noon the next day. He has managed to get Yancy to agree to participate with him in the stag party entertainment on Friday night).
Tuesday afternoons were not really very busy times with us. People had done their Monday shopping and would wait until Wednesday when we had bargains and special prices before they came back in large numbers again. As I pulled into the parking lot I could see I would not be very busy this afternoon.
Mr. Penser saw me in one of the aisles shortly after I had gotten back to work.
"Everything go well with Mr. Bockstrop?" he asked matter of factly.
"Yes sir."
"Good man, Bockstrop. He knows his business." That was so typical of Mr. Penser. He would make statements like that, coming out with judgments and pronouncements about people he didn't really know or situations about which he knew nothing. I bet he'd absolutely crap if he had any idea what went on when I was with Bockstrop. He turned to go, then stopped. "Oh by the way," he suddenly said as if he had a flash of memory, "he called a little while ago and asked that you call him."
I was sure Kevin had gotten in touch with him right away about me mentioning Turkey Johnson to Yancy.
"I'll take care of that at my desk." I said and moved away. I wasn't looking forward to this call, but I had stood by Yancy and put Kevin in his place so whatever happened it was worth it.
Bockstrop sounded ominous on the phone. "I thought I told you to never to bring that subject up."
"I know, but Kevin made me mad. You should have heard the things he was saying to me."
He paused a moment as if debating what course to take next. "Well let this be a lesson to you. You better be good and clean with that enema package when you come here tomorrow. And make sure you've tried each of the nozzles."
I took a deep breath to steel myself before I went on. I had to know the answer to a question. "Mr. Bockstrop, why are you doing all this to me?"
He gave a quiet laugh. "I thought you'd never ask, Eric. I do this because I like you. You've got a lot of qualities that I admire."
That floored me, but it also creeped me out. "Like what?"
"That dick of yours for one thing. It's...it's...well it's remarkable." I wasn't prepared for that. Then he went on. "Plus how easily you get aroused. And when I touch your flanks, you quiver like a young racehorse."
That was disgusting. But somehow it intrigued me. Worse than that, it gave me a tingle down below. I could feel it lengthening. I liked the feel of it against my jock strap.
"Thank you...I think."
He laughed softly. Then he said "Remember to be here tomorrow at noon. I'll be waiting." Then before I could say anything in reply, he said "We'll have fun." With that, he hung up.
I sat there a minute sort of baffled. Why do people do these things to me? And why does it sometimes turn me on? I thought of his stocky body, the hairy arms and I'm sure a hairy chest...and then I knew I was going to get in trouble if I thought of stuff like that very long. Even with this new jockstrap, I could get a really noticeable bulge if I let stuff turn me on.
Mr. Penser called me to his office. I wondered what was up now.
"Have you made plans with Mark for the Seafood Display?"
"We'll be working on it Thursday at the Westgate Mall. Thursday is my day off, but we'll meet there and finalize exactly what's what. He's getting his counterpart from Bunker's Supermarket to meet us there too."
Mr. Penser looked at a list on his desk. "Thursday night you're going to work with the stockers too, aren't you?"
I decided to hedge on it. "How much time will that involve? I can check what's going on, but it shouldn't take too long, should it?"
Then he got in one of his moods again. "Eric, Eric, this is still part of your training." When he started saying "Eric, Eric" in that pained way, I knew he was getting impatient with me, like I was dumb or something. "You should know how everything in the store works. You should be able to fill in for anyone if there's a vacancy. What if Jerry was in an accident and you had to fill in for him. You'd need to know what the stockers do if you're to supervise them."
They were a rough bunch. I knew a couple were on probation and one was awaiting trial for drugs and another for fights. I couldn't actually visualize having to ride herd on them, but I nodded respectfully.
The afternoon went quickly, fortunately. I checked out at 5 and headed to my car, glad to leave work. I had the enema kit with me, but I was sort of dreading having to use it. I wasn't sure why I was supposed to try all the nozzles. I couldn't remember having an enema before, but I suppose as a child my mother may have given me one. I seemed to remember one but it wasn't a bag like this, it was a small bulb that she put soapy water in. It had a nozzle she inserted in me. At least I thought so.
I remembered Yancy last night talking about making Patrick give himself enemas. I guess if I have any trouble doing that, I can call on Yancy since he seems to know so much about that kind of stuff. The thought of Patrick started my mind wondering again what actually went on between them. And why was Yancy really so anxious to get Patrick to come visit him? I couldn't puzzle about that much, though, because I saw my apartment building coming up.
When I had parked in my usual place, I grabbed the kit and started up the stairs. It wasn't in a bag and I hoped I didn't pass anybody who would see what I was carrying. Especially the big words on the side if the box, "5 NOZZLES!"
Then I realized suddenly that Scott Moss was waiting just outside the door of my apartment. If I had spotted him sooner, I might have driven away without stopping. But he was on the upstairs breezeway, leaning against my front door with that strange smile of his.
"Hello, Eric. I figured you'd get home about now. I missed you last night."
I didn't feel I owed him an explanation, but I did say, "Yes, unfortunately something came up and I was late getting home. Sorry you had to wait tonight."
I couldn't read the look on his face. I was beginning to wonder what it would take to get rid of him.
He stepped aside for me to unlock. As I did, he said "I could have gotten in without a key if I had wanted. You learn that kind of stuff in covert operations."
"I thought you were with the regular army."
He gave me the strangest look, very solemn, and said "You never really know about these things." Then, with a squint as he looked at me, "Do you know what I mean?"
I had no idea what he meant, but I didn't really want to know either. When he talked that way, it was creepy. I stepped inside and he followed immediately.
He took the enema package from me without even asking. He looked at it critically.
"This is good. I'm glad you're trying to keep yourself clean. The other night when I had to give you a shower, I wondered how clean you might really be. You can tell a lot about a guy from his butt."
Now what the hell did that mean? Also he didn't really 'have' to give me that shower. He just went ahead and did it, like he does everything else apparently. Like just now, taking that package without asking. I didn't like him around because he was like a loose cannon, you couldn't tell with he'd suddenly do or say.
I walked over to the picture window to draw the blinds. He followed and put a hand on my shoulder. His voice was quiet but firm.
"Don't do that."
"What? Close the curtains? Scott, this is my living room and my curtains."
He kept his hand there, tightening it slightly. "No, somebody's coming and I want to see them when they do."
"Well they're not coming here. If you want to see them, you go see them down there." I figured this might be a way to get him out of here.
"He is coming here."
Before I could ask who, a car pulled up at the curb and Ted got out.
"That's who's coming."
"How do you know Ted?"
"His sister was at a party at Susan's Saturday night and he came along. I found out later he worked at your store, and I dropped by to see him this morning and invited him to come by. You weren't around at the time I was there."
I thought to myself, 'Yeah, I was getting felt up by Max Bockstrop.'
In a moment Ted was at the door. When I let him in, I could tell he was really psyched up about this.
"Well, Ear-RICK, I guess tonight's your night." He seemed disturbingly eager. Then after a moment, as he looked at Scott, he told me "You better go ahead and get out of your clothes. Scott doesn't have all night, and while I might, I'm not sure I want to hang around here too long."
I didn't really know what the hell business it was of his, but before I could think of a good reply, Scott stepped in front of me. "Eric, strip!" He sounded like a drill sergeant.
I hadn't planned on this. I could probably handle Scott by himself, but Scott and Ted were a different situation. Then Ted stepped behind me.
Without warning he grabbed my arms at the elbows, pulling them back while he pushed his knee into my butt thrusting my pelvis foreword. Scott grabbed for my belt before I could do anything, and by the time I realized I could kick him away, I wasn't able to because he was so close and Ted was lifting me slightly so Scott could pull my pants and jock down. That's an awful feeling when you know your stuff is coming off and there's nothing you can do about it.
I did make one attempt thought. As they were being pulled down my hairy legs, I did try a kick, but the clothes were bunch at my ankles and it was meaningless. On top of that, Scott grabbed my balls and squeezed hard. I was in real pain so I went limp for him to get the stuff off. Then Ted flipped me face up across a chair and as Scott held my legs he got my T shirt off. Now I had nothing on and Scott had let go of my balls. Ted used a plastic tie from the store to lock my hands behind me, and then pushed me to the window.
Not content with just holding me there where I could be seen by anyone looking up as they passed, he used his knee again to get my pelvis against the pane of glass. My dick would be clearly visible mashed against the pane.
"I'm going to see if I can write his name in precum here" he told Scott.
Scott watched with a bemused expression like he was remembering something from Afghanistan. I wondered if he was thinking of things to do to me.
Ted took my dick and began rubbing it on the glass. Between his fingers and the swishing motion on the glass, he was getting me aroused. He hummed to himself as he worked it, and then he said quietly in my ear, "If you don't start leaking soon, I'm going to have to begin jamming a finger up your butt to turn you on."
I shook my head 'no' even as he squeezed the head, rolling it between his fingertips. Then he mashed the head flat against the glass and rolled it around.
From the kitchen Scott called out "Have you got any lard or Crisco or olive oil?"
Before I could answer he called again "Never mind, I found it."
I saw two young guys in the street below. Ted took my dick which was getting pretty hard and thumped it loudly against the pane. I would not have thought they could hear that sound down below but I guess they did because they suddenly looked up.
Seeing me they pointed and called out. That was when I recognized them. They were Benson and his buddy Suarez, two of the guys who got me last night over at Tyler Tew's clubhouse.
"Damn!"
"You know them?" Ted asked.
"Don't let them come up here!"
That was a mistake. The first thing Ted did was wave them up, hauling me away and pushing me to the front door. Opening it he shoved me out on the breezeway, calling "Hey you guys, come on up! We're having a ball here!"
If they had any doubts before, they knew it was safe for them now. There I was, naked with my legs spread because Ted had his knee between them giving anyone a view of my package. They bounded up the steps with big grins.
"So you like to have fun with him too?" they asked when they reached Ted.
"Damn right. Where do you guys know him from?"
"We got him good last night." Benson looked at my pubes. "I see you've evened up my knife shave there."
I glared at him.
He grinned. "Nice job somebody did on them, but I bet I can mess it up again real quick. The only problem is you're going to run out of hairs there someday."
We were still on the breezeway. I wanted desperately to get inside. That's when Scott appeared in the doorway.
"What's going on?" Scott didn't sound too friendly. I guess he thought of them as recruits and he needed to get them to shape up. For my part, I wondered how they got way over here from where they lived.
"Two friends of Eric's" Ted said. "They just looked up and there he was, so I told them to come up."
"We got him last night" Suarez said, his black hair in sharp contrast to his light brown skin, "so I guess tonight's your turn."
Benson put a hand on my butt. I squeezed my cheeks together tight. He laughed. "I could do a lot with that."
"You'll never get the chance" I told him. We were still outside. "Let's get inside before more people see me" I said.
That turned out to be a mistake. Everyone but Scott (and me) were happy to stay as much in public view as possible.
"Head inside" Scott barked. The two guys from last night looked at him in surprise. I guess they weren't used to anybody telling them what to do. They were about to find out different if they stayed around Scott very long. Ted just nodded and pulled me back into the living room.
Benson and Suarez looked crestfallen at losing the outside advantage to humiliating me. Then they brightened. "We'll be glad to take him off your hands," they said.
"What are you doing over this way?" I asked.
They snickered. Then Suarez said, "Gathering discounts."
"What's that?" Ted asked.
"These apartments are way too easy to break in to. Plus all these brides have all sorts of loot lying around. So we sort of take a fine finger discount and grab it."
Scott came to life like a fireball. "You're robbing places here?"
If they had good sense, they'd have known from his reaction they were in trouble. But no, Benson walked right into it.
"Sure. We lift stuff from here a couple of times a week., The place is so big we never hit the same section again for a while, so we never get caught." He looked so proud. He actually pushed out his chest.
I decided to help spring the trap. "How do you carry it off?"
"We've got a buddy with a pickup truck who's waiting for us on the next street. That's the one we're hitting tonight."
That was the moment when everything changed.
"That's where my girlfriend lives!" Scott shouted, lunging at them. "I'm calling the cops. You two stay right here."
Naturally they didn't stay there. Suarez got out the door and was gone in an instant. Ted grabbed Benson who nearly made it out.
Scott came up to where Ted was holding him. "You got any more zip ties, Ted?"
"In my right pocket. I don't want to let him go until he's tied."
Benson was cussing them and struggling, but once his hands were tied like mine they got his pants off and all the fight went out of him. Naked from the waist down, Ted and Scott looked him over. That was the start of one of the most unusual experiences I have ever had.
It unnerved Benson to be stared at like that, with nobody saying anything. When they were behind him he turned around so he could see what they were doing. This went on for a minute or two. In a way I was glad he was having to learn what it felt like to be standing there naked and guys walking around you looking. I watched them touch some of his tattoos, even lifting his shirt to see ones on his back. I was enjoying his fate because I had been the subject of so much examination lately, and now I could watch it happening to someone else. I never realized how hot it was to watch that. I wished I could join in. I got so interested that I began to bone up a little.
Scott noticed and said quietly, "Eric, your excitement is what gets you in so much trouble."
His voice sounded loud in the silence of the room. Benson jumped when he first started speaking until he realized it was not something about him. Then he looked at me and laughed.
"Yeah, that got to him all right."
Scott grabbed his dick and gave it a jerk like it was a leash. Benson winced and let out a cry.
"Tell me where the stuff you've stolen is, and the names of all the people involved." He yanked on the dick again. Benson bent forward in pain.
"I can't do that. Just tell me where your girlfriend lives and I'll make sure none of us bothers her place."
Scott was really angry. "That's not good enough. You are going to take the cops to where you have the loot."
"We get rid of it. We fence it with a guy over in River City. It's not like I've got loot lying around at home."
"What place are you hitting tonight?"
Benson shook his head but Scott pulled on that dick again like he wanted to drag it out by its roots. Benson wailed but still said "I can't, man, I just can't."
That's when Scott brought out the jar of lard and a glass tube. The minute I saw it I went cold all over. It was what the Afghan woman broke in the soldier's penis.
Before I could stop myself, I cried out "No, Scott! Not the glass tube! That's inhuman."
Benson turned his head toward me. His mouth was open. He looked scared as hell now. He didn't know what I was saying but he could read my voice, face, and body language. He knew it was something terrible.
Scott was very calm. That's the scary part with him. It's like being around a bomb that someone has set to go off, but you don't know when or what will trigger it. Ted looked worried too, even though he had no idea what I was talking about.
"It's not a tube, Eric. It's not hollow. It's solid like a stirring rod. It won't break, but it will certainly give him something to think about."
Turning to Benson, he asked, "Before I insert this, is there anything about the robberies you want to tell me? Once I start the insertion, the pain will be too bad for you to be able to tell me. And if you can't tell me what I want to know then the insertion will go on and on."
Benson's voice cracked. "What's this insertion? Insertion about what? I got no idea what you're saying, man."
Benson was seated in a straight chair. Scott stood in front of him, reached down, and took hold of Benson's penis. Benson visibly jumped. Scott held on.
"I will insert this in the head of your penis. I will begin sliding it down through your piss slit. It is big, it will probably stretch your channel there, and it will be one of the most painful things you've ever experienced."
He paused, giving Benson time to absorb what he had just been told. I could see little beads of sweat appearing at his hairline. He squinted and shook his head..
"You can't do that to me, man." He tried to shake his shoulders, but he was being held too tight. There wasn't much room for movement.
His face showed how scared he was. This guy who had enjoyed tormenting me last night was now scared to death.
"All you have to do is give me the information on the robbers and the robberies."
In the silence that followed, I asked "Can somebody untie me?"
Scott had obviously forgotten about me. Ted, I think, was so caught up in all this that he didn't know what to do. Although he obviously enjoyed last Friday night's harassment of me, he had never come across anything like this before. He stood there with his mouth partly open, like he was about to say 'ah' but then changed his mind.
Scott looked over at him. "Ted, cut the zip ties off Eric. I'll have to deal with him another time."
I was glad to get my hands free, and rubbed them to get back the full circulation. Meanwhile Benson sat in the straight chair, his skinny legs trembling. The front of his t-short was getting damp. He was either sweating or he had been slobbering with fear. His eyes were wide.
Scott took the can of lard, opened the lid, and held up the glass rod. Benson watched him as if hypnotized.
Scott began to calmly explain, "If you need to take a piss, now's the time to do it. Once this thing goes it, it'll be so much larger than your piss slit and channel that nothing will be able to come in or out for as long as it's in there."
Benson was really in a bind now. "Ok, ok, man. Untie me and let me take a piss."
"You don't need your hands. Eric will hold it for you while you piss" Scott said. "Apparently he owes you one, so I'm sure he'll be more than glad to do this for you."
He helped Benson up, and I escorted him down the hall to the bathroom. Scott and Ted stood in the doorway watching.
I put him in front of the toilet bowl, and stood behind him holding his dick. It wasn't much of a dick right now because he was so scared it had shriveled up. He twitched as I took hold of it. I heard him take a deep breath. We stood there. Nothing happened. Time seemed to stand still. I don't suppose we stood there more than maybe a minute, but I couldn't tell for sure.
From the doorway Scott said "If you can't go, we'll just have to insert the tube and you'll stay blocked up until it comes out."
"I can't go with people watching me. And I can't go with somebody holding my dick in his hand."
"Then I guess you can't go. That's a pity because when the rod finally comes out, it will be very painful to pee, and if you drained yourself now you could delay the next time until it began to recover."
That's when he literally began to tremble. "Oh, man, don't do that to me, dude." With my arms around him I could feel the trembling. I could even feel his heart pounding in his chest. What was weird was that I really hated him for what he did to me and what his guys did to Yancy last night. But now I felt just plain sorry for him. He was no longer some rough 19 year old street punk, but was really just a scared kid.
"Just give us the information" Scott said.
"I can't, man, I just can't."
"Bring him on back to the chair, Eric. I'll get the rod slicked up." He sighed audibly. "I hate to do this to anybody, but if he's not going to tell us -"
"They'll kill me if I do. I mean it. They'll make my life so miserable, and if I go to jail they'll have guys there ready to tear me apart. I'd rather kill myself first."
When I started to lead him back up front, his legs were shaking. I thought I'd have to hold him up. I understood why he was afraid to tell on his friends, but if he couldn't tell Scott, I didn't see much way out of this.
He leaned his head back against my shoulder. "Don't let him do that to me, Eric. Please, man."
I didn't answer. What was there to say?
Once he was seated, Scott stuck the rod in the lard and pulled it out. He ran his finger down it, right in front of Benson's face. The finger was coated with the white lard. He reached down, taking Benson's dick in his left hand, and with his right he began rubbing the lard across the piss slit. Benson convulsed, shaking and trying in vain to bend over - anything to get away from the finger and the rod.
Speaking quietly, almost soothingly, Scott explained, "If you stay still while this is going in, it won't hurt as much as if you move. I need a clear channel to push it through, and bucking around just makes me hit the sides of it. That can make tears in that channel and cause infection. It'll be hard to stay still because of the pain, but anytime you move it'll mean tearing your channel down there."
Tears formed in Benson's eyes and began slowly running down his face. All he could say, over and over, was "Oh man, oh man." He was sobbing now, shaking his head as Scott held the rod in front of him. "Dude...dude...don't, dude."
Scott suddenly changed his tone of voice to one of gentle urging. "It would go easier on you if you could get hard. That would keep the channel rigid. If Eric jacked you a little, do you think you could get hard?"
Benson was sniffling now and well as crying. "Oh, man, don't do this to me...Please don't do this to me."
"Listen to me" Scott said suddenly in a tone of steel, "I'm trying to make this as easy as possible for you. Now quit crying. It won't do you any good. This is going to happen to you, unless you tell us the names. Now tell me if you want Eric to try and get you hard. Do you want that?"
He nodded, turning his face away, but I could tell he was still crying.
"Ted, can you get a wet cloth from the kitchen and clean up this guy's face before Eric gets started? When the time comes that I insert this rod all the way down his dick, I don't want a lot of tears and snot raining down on me."
That made Benson tremble that much more. I'm surprised he didn't pee on himself, and the thought crossed my mind that maybe that's what Scott was trying to make him do. But I didn't want urine all over my living room floor.
Ted came back with the wet cloth. I noticed he was white as a sheet. He obviously had never come across anything like this in his whole life. And of course the same went for me.
When Benson's face was clear, I began slowly jacking his dick. If the circumstances had been different, this could have been fun. I could feel the heat from his body; the sweat beginning to break out.
"Come on, Benson" I said quietly to him. "You know eventually you'll end up having to tell somebody about the robberies. Why put yourself through this?"
"They'd kill me. Or make me wish I was dead. Oh man, oh man please."
His eyes were so wide and when he tried to talk, I could tell he was holding back more sobs that seemed to shake his body. His dick wasn't getting any harder. It was limp, shrunken, almost trying to hide inside him. His body odor was increasing too.
I shook my head at Scott, who then asked him "If we used your butt to get you hard, do you think that would help?"
"Not my butt too! Oh, man, please."
Scott looked at Ted. "Go in the kitchen and see if there's anything you can find that we can stuff up there. That should bone him up."
Ted chuckled at that. I was glad to see he looked less like he was going to faint. Ted might go wild in a group, but faced with something like this he had seemed lost.
I wasn't sure what I had in the kitchen, but Ted came back in a minute with a carrot. Benson looked at it wild eyed. He moaned. I continued to finger his dick, but with no results. Still it was sort of interesting. I mean I had never played with a guy's dick until this past week, and never one in Benson's shape.
"Blunt the tip a little. We'll insert the narrow end, but we don't want to spear his bowels when we shove it in."
Benson whimpered loudly. Then trying to get control of his emotions, he lowered his voice as he quietly moaned "Oh god, oh god."
"We'll grease this thing up good. Damaging his shit channel along with his piss channel would be a bad deal." Scott obviously knew how to play psychological warfare with a guy.
Benson started crying again.
I leaned close to his ear. "Benson, go on and tell him. Let's don't make this any worse." It was all I could think to say.
"Yeah, Benton, spill it."
"It's Benson, not Benton" he told Scott. At least he had stopped crying at the moment.
Ted handed the carrot to Scott who gave it to me.
"Smear the lard all over it, and get a good dose on his crack. If it's slick enough, it'll go right down the channel and maybe we'll get some results." Turning to Benson he said "Benton, we're going to have both your channels greased up in no time at all."
"It's Benson!" he said in frustration and then started back to crying again.
"Ted, lay him over the back of Eric's chair and kick his legs out. Eric can start in on him."
Scott himself wandered back into the kitchen.
Benson had a skinny butt. He was strong in a sinewy kind of way, but there wasn't a lot of flesh on his bones. That made it easy to part the cheeks and begin slathering up his canyon. He was dark haired anyway, but his crack was hairy and thick.
I lubed up the carrot, grasping the thick end and lining the skinny end up with his hole. He kept trying to squeeze his butt cheeks together, but I began to push. There was enough lard smeared around his butt and on the carrot to launch a battleship from dry dock.
It was a funny feeling pushing it in, because I couldn't tell how hard to push or how fast to slide it in. I knew he was having a rough time. As that was happening, Scott came back from the kitchen with my package of Red Hot Texas Chili Powder. I like to fix chili and had a good supply of the powder. He was grinning.
"This ought to light his fire."
Benson saw it and let out a groan. At the same time, I must have hit something because he suddenly bucked. He gave a heated groan.
Scott looked between his legs, pushing them further apart. "We're finally getting somewhere."
When Benson was hard, we sat him back in the chair with the carrot firmly all the way in, and Scott took the rod and touched it up with a little more lard.
"Last chance, Benton."
"Benson!" he said, but his voice quaked and was high. He was back into his really scared state now, cringing. He couldn't take his eyes off the rod as it got closer to his dick. Scott was holding his erection in one hand and guiding the rod closer with the other.
At that point Ted made a sound and ran to the bathroom. We all looked up in surprise. Then we could hear him throwing up in there.
"Must have a flu bug" Scott said wryly.
I had an idea. "How about this? What if we let Benson guide us to the place, wait until they show up, and make an anonymous call to the cops. We can wait for them to come, and once we know it's safe we can let Benson go back home.
Scott gave me a look of utter disgust. "That's your solution, is it? He's as guilty as they are, and you want him to go free?"
"If it stops the robberies it would be worth it."
Ted was back from upchucking now and seemed interested. "That sounds good, Scott. Besides once they're caught, they may spill his name to the cops as well. That would solve things."
I looked at Benson. "Would you be willing to do this?"
He didn't like it, but he nodded. He gave them the address.
"That's barely a block from where Susan lives!" Scott was mad again.
I thought maybe he as going to jab the glass rod up Benton's bone anyway. But then he got hold of himself.
"Ok, untie him." Then abruptly, like an afterthought, he said "Keep the carrot up his butt for a while. And we'll carry his clothes with us in the car. He'll be easier to control that way."
Coming down the outside stairs in the dark of night, we must have been a really strange sight. Four guys, one of them naked and walking funny, hurrying outside to my car. If any neighbors had been outside, they would have wondered what sort of people I had visiting me. But they didn't know me that well. We mostly led separate lives here, so aside from neighborly hellos coming and going, we had little contact with each other. This time I was glad it was that way.
I drove with Scott beside me on the front seat. Benson and Ted sat in the back. I looked in the mirror once and saw Benson hanging his head and crumpled against the door. I noticed he was pushing himself up off the seat a little, probably getting relief from the carrot up in him. Ted on the other hand now seemed closer to his old self, no longer white faced or worried.
We parked across the street from the address Benson had given us. Trees shaded the car so we were protected by the darkness. In that particular four-plex, people must have been out for the evening or gone on a trip. None of the apartments had any lights on.
"Which one is it?" Scott asked.
Benson told us, adding "the guy said those people were on a Caribbean cruise and wouldn't be back until Saturday."
Scott sat silently for a moment. He was obviously mulling something over in his mind. Then he turned and faced me across the front seat. "Now tell me again what exactly is this plan of yours?"
"When we see them trying to get in, I'll call 911 and report someone trying to break into an apartment in my neighborhood. Then we'll see if the cops show up. When they do, Benson can either walk home from here, which means the other guys may see him when they're being taken off in a squad car and they'll think he got here late, or he can go join them and take his chances along with the rest."
"You agree to that, Benton?"
"It's Benson! Benson! And yes I do."
Scott stared straight ahead as he said "Ted, ram that carrot a little deeper up Benton's butt and maybe that'll teach him to be quiet."
I swear I heard him whisper "It's Benson."
There was some movement from the back seat and I heard Benson moan.
Suddenly we saw a light go on in the apartment Benson had pointed out to us. We leaned forward and I grabbed my cell phone. Then there was a flash over that way, shots rang out, and I heard screams and cries.
I hit 911 in a flash and reported shots and screams at that address, and then hung up. Scott reached for the handle but I grabbed his shoulder. "If you don't have a gun, stay out of it until the cops come."
Ted asked, "Should I give Benson his clothes?" and then immediately said "Oh shit, he's pissed all over himself."
"I told him he should have gone when he had the chance" Scott said, intently watching the apartment across the way.
"And he's pissed on me too" Ted added, moving rapidly to escape the spreading flood.
"Cut his ties and give him his clothes back and get him of the car. I think we need to get the hell out of here" Scott said.
Benson gave a cry as he wrenched the carrot out of its lodging and stepped outside. The inside car lights came on, but he slammed the door quickly and stood beside the car. He was dressing rapidly, crouching down. Glancing back out my window, I saw he was still boned.
A police siren sounded in the distance.
"Somebody set them up" Benson said in an awestruck tone. "Somebody wanted us to get caught."
"I think somebody maybe wanted you dead," Scott said.
"Oh, man." I realized he had been saying that a lot tonight. Then he went on, "I told Suarez and Kovich the new agent might be up to something."
The police car had arrived and two officers got out and cautiously made their way around the building. Upstairs where there had been noise and shots, there was silence.
Then suddenly from up there we heard someone scream, "Don' t shoot me! Don't shoot me!" Then there was another shot.
The police were upstairs in a flash. The moon, which had been behind a cloud, came out. They broke in the door and there was a scuffle inside.
"I'm outta here" Benson said. He was gone into the shadow of some trees. I never saw where he went.
"Let's go" Scott said urgently.
"That guy got piss on me" Ted said from the back seat.
I started the engine.
"When you lie down with dogs, you get up with fleas" Scott told him. I grinned.
Back at my place they got out. Scott looked me up and down.
"Tonight didn't turn out like I thought it would, and just before coming over I got some military news."
We both looked at him. He was striking a pose, acting very dramatic.
"I got word to be ready to go back at a moment's notice. It could happen tonight, tomorrow, tomorrow night, but some time soon. When that call comes, I'll leave right away."
To me that was good news. Ted didn't say anything and I wondered if Scott was waiting for one of us to say something.
"Well" I said, trying to come up with something, "be careful."
Then he turned on his heels as he said "If I don't say goodbye, that's because in my job you never know what'll happen. So if I suddenly go, just know I'll see you guys the next time I get a leave."
With that he was gone in the night.
Ted and I looked at each other. He smelled bad. I wondered if piss was all that had gotten on him, or maybe even if he had messed his pants while all this was going on.
"I need to get home" he said wearily, turning toward his car.
My mind was like turned to stone. I couldn't believe all that had happened in so short a time. I wondered if anybody had been killed over at that other place. I wondered what Benson had ended up doing.
I wish Yancy had gotten his cell phone. At least I could find out what he knew over in his neighborhood. I heard the sound of Ted's engine starting.
As he drove off, I wondered if he'd get all that smelly stuff on the seat of his car too. But at least it wasn't my problem. I headed upstairs. I still had the damned enema nozzles to figure out.
After all I'd been through, I got a shower as soon as I got inside. It was relaxing and I felt better as soon as the hot water hit my neck and shoulders. I decided I would worry about my car and its possible smells in the morning. Besides, I told myself, it was the back seat and unless I had to give somebody ride, no one would be sitting there. Maybe a good scent spray would take care of things.
I cleaned myself carefully, not that I usually didn't, but now every time I washed my butt I got all kinds of funny feelings. It seemed like people lately had been patting me on the ass a lot. Plus there were the guys who tried to put a finger in my hole.
In the past I would have been disgusted to be remembering that, but somehow something was attracting me to that region of my body. Not that I planned to leave my dick alone - absolutely not. If anyone ever cut off my hands, I'd lose my mind.
My dick hardened as I thought this. 'Ah, dick, you're reading my thoughts' my mind said to it. In response it bounced a little on its way up. I looked down at it, and then carefully gave it a nice stroke all the way from base to head. It swelled even more.
'Not too much' my mind said to it. 'With these nozzles I may need your help in getting used to them. Help me feel good using them.' I knew sticking anything up my ass would take a real adjustment. I mean I was always a dick guy. Ass holes were for assholes I always thought. But lately...
That's what was bothering me. I agree with Yancy that doing something that is gay doesn't make a person gay...unless they keep doing it. Or maybe if they like it too much. I knew I'd have to be careful about that.
I remember back in high school, I heard some guys say you could jerk off until you were 16, but if you kept it up after that, you'd never be able quit. I wondered if doing something that might be gay, like with Yancy, would be ok if we only did it a little and then quit. I really didn't want to be gay if I could help it.
Of course I knew when it came to jerking off that I was doomed in that respect. I mean at 20 I still do it and enjoy the hell out of it, and I don't care if I can't quit because I don't want to quit. My dick must have read my thoughts because it bobbed again, stretching it's full length out and angled up.
I got out the enema kit, checked the bag and the tubing, and saw there was a place on the shower rod to hang it. Then I looked at the nozzles. I figured I'd start with the smallest since that would help me ease into this process. I soaped it and soaped my hole. When I looked at my finger I realized the advantage to being 'clean' in there, as Mr. Bockstrop would say.
The nozzle was slender and only a little over an inch long. It was smooth and plastic. It caught the light with a shine. I saw the others were substantially longer and progressively thicker. I sort of shuddered at the thought.
'Well here goes', I thought to myself, and slowly began inserting it.
As I did that, and got a very funny feeling back there, I suddenly thought of Patrick and of how Yancy made him take an enema before he would let him get off. I don't know why that seemed so much sexier now. So sexy in fact my dick dripped as I slid the nozzle in and out. After a little bit I thought, 'Man I could really get off on this stuff.'
(End of Chapter Nine)
The next chapter takes place on Wednesday and brings a surprising reaction from Ted. But after tonight's events why shouldn't it? And, as we already know, Eric has a noon-time appointment at Bockstrop's Pharmacy with the big man himself. There's a surprise waiting for him when he gets there. Eric is quickly learning not to like surprises.
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