Little Big Man

LITTLE BIG MAN – a serial novel by Travis Creel

CHAPTER TWELVE – SEX GAMES TWO: WHO THE FUCK IS THIS?

Previously: After having been shocked by the revelation that the Little Big Man contest was a fraud and they were, in fact, captives, the 52 `contestants', stripped of their clothing, were thrown into a new kind of competition in which they were forced to have sex with each other. Round One separated them into 24 Tops and 24 Bottoms (plus 4 unfortunate Eunuchs). Round Two was a contest to see who could have the most sex in a three-day period. Four losers among the Tops would become Bottoms; four losers among the Bottoms would become Eunuchs.

The first day of Round Two (Wednesday) required Tops to target specific Bottoms and then find their unlabeled rooms. If they found a target, they could fuck him, earning points for both. At the end of Wednesday, Alex and Matti felt confident they were leading their group or close to it, but knew they couldn't rest easy yet – there were two more days remaining in Round Two.

Florida, a rebellious Bottom, was punished by serving as a urinal for the maroons and then being made available for all the Tops to fuck his mouth. He was placed last within his group but with the chance to gain more points and avoid castration at the end of Friday.

(Author's Note: the results of all competitions were determined by random simulation, unless the result would alter the planned story arc of the two main characters. That way, even I didn't know what's going to happen.)

ALEX: WEDNESDAY, JUNE 8, LATE EVENING – ATLANTIC OCEAN

That night I had two visitors. One of them short, stocky, freckled, and red-headed (prior to shaving). One of them huge, black, and intimidating. Kentucky and Latronius, respectively. The maroon delivered my overnight guest with the warning, "Don't do him until I get back". I was so exhausted and spent from the long day that, even with the evening off, I didn't know if I could manage another orgasm. With the injection, I could get hard, but could I come?

After Kentucky told me how sore his ass was, I confessed, "I don't really feel like doing this. I had a lot of sex today and don't think I need the points."

Kentucky said he felt the same way - his ass was sore - but was nervous. He had more at stake than I did. If he came in last in his group, his balls were destined for a jar.

• And we Bottoms can't control how often we have sex. I got screwed six times today, I can't possibly be in last place. But tomorrow maybe my luck won't be so good. If I give up these three points, I don't know . . .

I made him some coffee – decaf – and we chatted, exchanging life stories. He'd been a battered kid, growing up in tobacco country. His father was a Hell's Angel, now serving a 20-year sentence for armed robbery. His mother was an alcoholic. He'd gotten into a junior college and then transferred to Morehead State, although he had to work two jobs just to keep a roof over his head. Little Big Man was a godsend - he thought. The $25,000 prize would sustain him through college until he could find a good job.

But we knew now that the money was just a phantom, and that any future we had envisioned for ourselves had been blown away, to be replaced by who knew what. Slavery, if Matti was correct.

When he finished, I began sharing my story. I was going to tell him about Adam – he'd been so open with me – but hadn't gotten that far when Latronius returned, regarding me disapprovingly.

• I came here to see some prime quality fucking. Why aren't you hard? Haven't you injected yourself?

• Well, actually, we were just discussing if we needed to do this. We're both pretty tired and it seems like we have enough points to –

• Don't give me that bullshit. I don't care how many points you've got, you are fucking this bitch. Now inject your cock or I'll do it for you.

I looked at Kentucky sheepishly. He nodded and said:

• It's okay. I'd rather be safe than sorry – everyone else is getting screwed tonight, I might as well too.

I injected myself and ten minutes later my bone was buried in his backside. In the middle of the fuck, I felt bare skin behind me. Latronius had stripped off and I could feel him press himself against me.

"You know you want me, baby," he murmured, letting me feel his hardness rub against – but not IN – my ass. He wrapped his long arms around my waist and past them, to grip Kentucky. The pressure of his body forced me deeper into Kentucky's silky rectum. Latronius began pushing with his pelvis back and forward as if fucking me, while directing his cock safely away from my virgin asshole. The warmth of his body ignited something in me and I began fucking Kentucky harder – I got turned on by the feel of Latronius' skin against my bare backside. I shot my load into Kentucky's bowels – probably more quickly than I would have without Latronius' intervention. Which did Kentucky a favor, I guess. Although Kentucky got hard from the experience, a detail which didn't escape Latronius' notice.

• I see the bitch is starting to like this. (to Kentucky) Good thing, boy. You might love being fucked if it happens often enough. Which it will. (to me) And who knows? Maybe you'll feel the same way when it's your turn.

• I'm going to stay a Top, Latronius. I have twenty-one points now, you can't tell me I'm last place. (Pushing my luck) Where am I in the standings?

• Second. Minnesota's a point ahead of you. But things change, Wisconsin. There's two more days to go. (Pause.) In this round.

• (alarm bells) What do you mean, `in this round'?

• Oh, sweetness, did you think this was it? That there wouldn't be a further opportunity for you to lose your Top status? If so, you are much mistaken, my friend. You may get past Friday night, but that doesn't mean you're safe forever.

He took a big meaty paw and massaged my right butt cheek.

• I still have a chance at a piece of this. Even if you WIN your division.

After he left, I invited Kentucky into my bed and said I'd sleep on the floor. But he said no, we could both share it, and that's what we did. It was a double bed, and although we could have maintained our distance, at times our bodies touched each other. That was both weird and kinda nice, but we both fell asleep sooner than either of us thought we would.

ALEX: THURSDAY, JUNE 9 – ATLANTIC OCEAN

They gave us the morning off. Matti and I spent it together. We were tired of talking about the contest, our captors, our fate, and the nightmare that had turned our lives upside down in – was it really less than three days since we'd learned that Little Big Man was a fake? It seemed like weeks.

We went to the lounge, played a little basketball with Noisy and D.C. – they creamed us. D.C. wanted to talk about his anxiety over possible demotion. I said I needed some head space away from the pressure of the competition. He got annoyed and asked me how many fucks I'd had yesterday. When I told him, he got pissed and said it was easy for me to want head space, I wasn't in last place. He was pretty sure he was, so was it okay if he did a little worrying, please. Only he didn't state it that politely. Noisy was looking sheepish, and Matti and I just wanted to get out of there. So we excused ourselves and went for a swim.

Lunch was peculiar – that was the only word for it. While we were eating, they projected a continuous slide show of nude male bodies, shown from the rear. It seemed evident that they were showing us pictures of the Bottoms, but only from the neck down so we couldn't tell who they were. What was the purpose of this – were they trying to get us horny? After all the sex we had had yesterday this was not going to do the trick. And – spoiler alert – we're not gay.

DeJuan informed us that there would be two sex periods in the afternoon and one in the evening, but today's format would be different. We would have only one opportunity for sex in each period, and we might miss out. This was mostly good news. Aside from giving our balls some rest, the limited opportunities made it harder for Hawaii, Michigan, Nebraska, and Wyoming to pass Matti and me.

We entered the gymnasium at 1:30 and sat against the wall. A slide show was projected on the giant screen, the same pictures we'd seen at lunch – nude men, rear view, no heads. But there were two critical differences. The first was that instead of the image being of a single body, there were four of them, one in each corner. Each picture was labeled with the letter A, B, C, or D.

The second difference: all the bodies were blue. That's right, blue. And the exact same shade of blue, which made it impossible to determine skin tone. Was this a Black, a white, an Asian, a Latino? I couldn't tell.

The arrangement in groups of four suggested it was a memory contest – they'd show us a picture and we'd have to remember whether it was an A, B, C, or D. I noticed an image that was a little unique – the photo was taken off-center, with an extra margin on the right. That one would be easy to recognize – it was a C. Except a few slides later, it showed up as an A. Later it was a D. Each time in combination with different Bottoms. This was, indeed, confusing.

As it turned out, it was a memory contest – but not in the way I was thinking.

They began by picking ping-pong balls out of a bin, the method they'd always used for selection. The first guy chosen was Mississippi, one of the six Black Tops. They showed him a slide. Four nude bodies, all blue.

• (DeJuan Brooks) Mississippi, before you are images of four Bottoms. Choose the one you'd like to fuck this afternoon. But be careful – two of these are Bottoms you've already had sex with. You are not allowed to fuck the same Bottom twice, so you must choose one of the two you have not already fucked. You have fifteen seconds.

As a digital timer began the countdown, Mississippi looked perplexed. Mentally, the rest of us were playing the game along with him. Could we identify any of these Bottoms? Were any of these dudes we'd already fucked? I had no idea. With their blue skin, I couldn't have distinguished Black Ohio from blond Utah.

I realized, for perhaps the first time, that none of the fifty-two of us had any tattoos. That choice must have been deliberate. Maybe because wherever we were going, they wanted unmarked skin. Or maybe just to make this game difficult.

Mississippi made his choice, and DeJuan informed him that it was one of his previous conquests, without identifying who, "as that would assist the other contestants in making their decision". While Mississippi earned no points, his chosen Bottom was to be rewarded because Mississippi WANTED to fuck him; he'd get to suck a cook's cock, for two points.

A dozen guys later, it was my turn. I stared at the four photographs in front of me with their weird blue bodies. I had no clue. They all had different shaped hips, they all had different shaped butts, their legs were different, their torsos were different. But could I recognize any of them as Kentucky or Ohio or New Mexico or Florida or Connecticut or Idaho or Arkansas or even Alabama? No. Two of that group were up there, and I had no idea which. I picked one at random. Wrong.

Matti got his wrong, too, but only two members of our group - Hawaii and Wyoming – had gained points on us, and they weren't the closest to us in the standings, so we were presumably okay. All we had to do was not be last.

At the end they produced the Bottoms and informed them of how many points they would receive, and how they would earn them. My choice, Connecticut, would be given two points and a mechanic to blow.

With each Top having only fifteen seconds to make a choice, the entire process was over by 2:00, and those of us who weren't having sex were released to our cabins. They called us back for another round at 4:30, and I was comforted that the slide show that greeted us consisted of the same twenty-four pictures we had seen earlier. If I'd paid more attention to which Tops chose which pictures and who wound up having sex as a result of it – I would have been better at saying `Ah, that's Alaska, and that's Louisiana,' and so forth. But there were only five I was sure of, counting Connecticut. And they wouldn't show me Connecticut again.

But they pulled a bit of a switcheroo. They didn't show the entire pictures. They zoomed in on the guys' asses. When it was my turn, I was presented with four asses – and only their asses – and asked which I wanted to fuck. Again, two were dudes I had already done. And again, all an identical shade of blue.

Was the upper left one Al? Maybe. No clue as to the other three, so I chose D. Wrong again! Shit. I shouldn't have been honest and chosen the best ass up there; it belonged to Idaho, already a conquest. Matti, at least, earned a fuck (Massachusetts). I was now four points behind Matti, whom I was pretty sure was leading our group. But everyone in my group had earned points today except me.

I HAD to earn more points. I had to stay a Top.

Dinner was tense. The feeling of we're-all-in-this-together was devolving into every-man-for-himself. I needed someone to do something crazy and lighten the mood, but it didn't happen. We were all too self-absorbed, thinking "those Bottoms have been fucked at least five or six times. That could be me tomorrow night. And some of the very same guys I'm sharing this meal with could be shoving their dicks up my ass."

There was speculation about what the evening session would look like. If they'd shown us the whole body in the first session, and just asses for the second, would they zoom in further to just assholes? Del floated this theory; absurd as it was, it WAS a logical extrapolation. It would have been pure guessing – there was no way you could identify anyone from their anus. But . . . would that stop them? Fairness was not exactly the Russians' calling card.

So it was a nervous – and rather dispirited – group of Tops who assembled at 8:30 for the final event of the day. As it turned out, the format was completely different.

• (DeJuan Brooks) Tonight, we're going to give the Bottoms an opportunity to pick up some real points. Some of you can put some real distance between yourself and last place in your group. Tops – not so much. You'll have one chance to score three points for a fuck, and that's it. And no overnight visits today – you'll want to save your strength for tomorrow, the climax (so to speak) of Round Two and your last chance to rack up points and protect your status as a Top.

• With the aid of our computer, we've divided you into six groups of four. We will illustrate how the session will operate with our first group: California, District of Columbia, Kansas, and Wisconsin.

Oh, great. I was in the first group, with no chance to observe and learn from the experience of others, if that was even possible. DeJuan outlined the procedure.

• Each group will see images of four Bottoms, Bottoms that no one in the group has fucked yet. You will rank the four Bottoms by your desire to fuck them. Your choices will be awarded within a point system – 10 for your first choice, 5 for your second, 2 for your third and none for your fourth. The Bottom you collectively most want to fuck will get fucked, but not by you – by three of our enforcers. The second-most-wanted will be fucked by the Top - or, conceivably Tops - who chose him. A Bottom who finishes alone in third place will have the privilege of sucking the cock of one of our crew members.

This time they made no effort to disguise the identity of the Bottoms – not only was their skin their natural color, but you could also see their faces, which belonged to Oklahoma, Missouri, New York, and Tennessee.

One by one they called us up to the front, starting with California. When it was my turn, they gave me four ping-pong balls with the Bottoms' names imprinted on them. I had to put one into each of four opaque jars to rank them. There was no reward for picking the same guy that everyone else did – he was in for a gang-bang by enforcers. You only got points if you chose the second-most popular Bottom. That was warped. So I just listed guys randomly – New York, Missouri, Tennessee, Oklahoma.

After he had tallied the results, DeJuan Brooks summarized:

• Tennessee has 27 points, Missouri and New York are tied with 17, and Oklahoma has 7. That means Tennessee will entertain three of our enforcers, while both Missouri and New York have dates with the Tops who chose them – California and Wisconsin, respectively.

So I got my three points out of it and a close encounter with New York's ass. Tennessee, a Thai from Memphis, was the big winner – if you can count being gang-raped by three king-sized maroons `winning'. But the twelve points he earned (fucks by the well-endowed maroons earning a bonus point each) was presumably enough to guarantee the safety of his balls.

I asked New York what position he wanted to be done in, which produced a scowl.

• So it's not rape if you ask the girl HOW she wants to be raped, is that it? Does that ease your conscience?

• Actually, no, it doesn't, New York. But I don't have a choice in this matter, and neither do you so I thought I'd try to give you as much control of the situation as I ould.

• (with venom in his eyes) Yeah, right.

Then he answered my question without answering it, by kneeling on all fours.

• I don't want to see your face. Just do it.

I did it. It took longer than either of us would have wanted before I shot my wad into his tight ass. And while I enjoyed the sensation of his colon caressing my cock, it was evident that he didn't. Some of the Bottoms were getting used to the experience; New York was not among them.

Afterwards, feeling blue - and guilty - I returned to my cabin, downed a scotch, and went to bed. There was no visit from Latronius, thankfully. But I fell asleep wondering what the standings were, and whether Matti and I were still ahead. And wondering what surprises tomorrow would bring.

And they would.

[COMING UP NEXT: CHAPTER THIRTEEN: HAVE I FUCKED YOU ALREADY?]