Misery

The following program contains material suited for a mature audience. If you are not over 18 you should be leaving now. Of course I can't control you and neither can anyone else really. This story is complete fiction. This story in no way speculates, indicates, or reports the sexuality, the behaviour, or any relationship that anyone mentioned may have. And now for our feature presentation. Viewer Discretion is advised...

My web site is located at http://www.geocities.com/chipdyp/index.html

Misery 6 by: Chip Dyp (chipdyp@hotmail.com)

"Ughh. Ughh. OHHHhhhhh." My cock pulsed, firing cum into the air. It arced in slow motion and landed beside my mouse. I leaned back and kept my eyes closed as I recovered from my self-induced pleasure trip. I sat there listening, as the blonde's best friend fucked him long and hard.

As my breathing returned to normal, I lifted my head and looked at the screen. The blond let out a loud moan, and the camera zoomed in on his cock as his thick creamy load oozed from the tip. The brunette groaned and collapsed onto his friend. I smiled and clicked the close box on the window. The movie disappeared, leaving only the browser window visible. I hit the power button and shut down the machine.

After wiping up all the evidence of my activity, I grabbed my robe and walked out to the kitchen. It was still pretty early. I grabbed a coke out of the fridge and sat down at the table. I had blown 30 minutes blowing my load. Now what was I going to do?

I scratched my back and sauntered into the living room. None of the movies on the shelves interested me. There still wasn't anything on TV. I collapsed onto the couch and looked at the ceiling. My robe slipped open as I lay on the couch. Tilting my head slightly, I looked down at my manhood. It lay there, flaccid and glistening. I sighed and tried to smile. I was all right looking. I wasn't a complete asshole. And yet, here I was lying on my couch, alone on Friday night.

Groaning, I pulled myself up off the couch. A long hot bath would be nice.

I could sit into the tub and let the jets blow water past me. The water would feel great as it pounded on my muscles, loosening them up. It would release my tension. I laughed and flipped the light switch in the bathroom.

I'd already released a load of tension. I dumped a capful of bath oil into the tub, and started the water. The water flowed out in a steady stream, filling the tub with hot water.

I stepped back from the tub and looked at myself in the mirror. Letting the robe slip from my shoulder, I stared at myself. I rubbed my stomach, letting my fingertips caress my abs. I wasn't overly built, but I wasn't bad looking. My hair fell forward over my eyes, obscuring my view. I collected my hair and pulled it back. I leaned into the mirror and took a close look at my face. A pimple was forming on my forehead, but other than that, things were looking good.

Sighing, I walked over to the tub and checked the temperature. It was nice and hot. It was just the thing to get my balls to drop down and relax. I hit the button for the jets and shut off the water. Carefully, I stepped into the tub and sat down. The water enveloped my legs, and lapped at my chin. It was heavenly. I closed my eyes and leaned back. It was so peaceful, so beautiful. Nothing was going to destroy this sliver of peace that I had created.

I glanced over at my dad as he sat at the desk in Scott's room. He had pulled all of Scott's stuff out of the drawers and left it in piles all over the room. I smiled to myself. Scott was so dead.

"Are you sure you don't know where he went?" My dad asked for the tenth time.

I looked over and shrugged. "He didn't exactly say a lot to me before he hit me." And then to get Scott in more trouble, I added, "I'm sorry dad. I should've tried harder to stop him from leaving. I just didn't think that he'd hit his own brother."

My dad put his arm around me and squeezed firmly. "It's all right, Clint. You couldn't have known what he'd do."

"What are you gonna do to him when he gets back?" I asked innocently. Like I didn't know what dad was going to do. He was going to do the same thing he always did.

"He is going to learn that I am the boss," he said coolly, looking out the window. "Have you been practicing those new lyrics?"

"Yeah, they look pretty good." I looked up at my dad and smiled. "Bob and Dave and I really appreciate what you've done for us dad. A lot of parents wouldn't be willing to do all the work that you do. I don't know what Scott's problem is." I stood up and walked to the door. "Night dad."

My dad nodded and looked out the window again. Scott had really done it this time. He had fucked up royally. And it wouldn't make a god damn bit of difference to the media or the girls that scream his name at concerts. He was their favourite and would continue to be their favourite.

I knocked twice on the door I shared with my brothers and then opened the door. "What's up?" Dave asked as he looked up from his laptop.

"Scott fucked up. He is sooo dead," I replied with a smile.

"Won't make a bit off difference, Clint," Bob said looking up from some music.

"I know, but I can dream, can't I?"

"If you really want to. You've got to let this go, man. It's gonna eat you up." Dave said, closing his laptop. He stood up and tossed me a coke.

"Doesn't it bother you that he gets all the credit, all the girls, all the pictures?"

Dave shrugged and put his feet up. "I'm just happy that he's still in the band. I bet that when he turns 18, he'll get out."

"That just pisses me off," Bob said. He motioned for Dave to toss him a coke and then continued. "Most guys would kill for the opportunity that we've been given."

"Dad rides him fairly hard, though." Dave added, looking out the window. He knew that argument wouldn't fly.

"Come on. Dad rides us all."

"Not as much as he rides Scott," Dave said. "He's pretty hard on him."

Bob didn't say much, just sipped on his Coke. I knew that he was waiting for me to jump in, but it wasn't worth it. Dave really didn't hate Scott as much as Bob and I did.

"Whatever. I just wish he'd get his act together for once. It would be nice to finish the record on time. If he'd just listen to dad for once." I finished my Coke and tossed the can into the garbage. "But, I'm gonna get some sleep so that I can do my best tomorrow."

"Probably a good idea. See you tomorrow," Bob said.

I watched Clint walk into his bedroom and glanced at Bob. "I really wish you two and Scott would bury the hatchet."

"Why?"

"Because, it's really annoying having you three fighting all the time."

Bob sat up and leaned closer to me. "Really?"

"Yeah, really. It's beginning to grate. It's one thing for Scott to act like he's better than us all, and that he doesn't need to be in the band. It's a whole other thing to have you guys gloating when you know Dad is going to beat his ass. If you really want the band to stay together, you'd be trying to keep Scott and Dad apart."

"I never thought of it that way. Is that why you basically ignore Scott?"

"Yeah. We need him. And he's my brother. I can't hate my brother. It doesn't mean I have to be all buddy-buddy with him."

"I guess. Maybe when Scott gets back, I'll talk to him." Bob sighed, and leaned back.

"Thanks. That would mean a lot to me," I stood up and tossed my can into the garbage.

As I walked to my room, Bob stood up and gave me a hug. "I didn't realize that you felt so strongly. Forgive me?"

"How could I do anything else?" I hugged Bob back and walked to my room. I hoped that Scott appreciated what I had done. I snorted and pulled off my shirt. He wouldn't appreciate it. He was too concerned with himself.

"Please, you have to let me in. I need to see Mitchel Sutherland."

"I'm sorry, sir. Your name is not on their guest list, so I can't let you in. Neighbourhood policy," The guard said kindly but forcefully.

"I know, but...Is there anything you can do?" I asked. I needed to see Mitchel. I needed to apologize to him.

The guard stared at me for a second, and then nodded slowly. "I'll call the Sutherland residence. If they say yes, I'll let you in."

I almost broke down crying as the guard walked into the booth and picked up the phone. I wanted to fall to my knees and pray, but I figured that wouldn't look good. The guard nodded a few times and then smiled. He hung up the phone and walked out to see me. "You can go in."

"Thank you so much," I said, running back to the cab, "I really appreciate it."

"Kids," I muttered as I walked back into the booth. "You'd think I'd just done something above and beyond the call of duty."

I had just sat down when another car pulled up to the barricade. "God damn assholes," I groaned as I stood back up. My hand moved to my gun reflexively as I pushed open the door and leaned into the window. "Can I help you sir?"

"I need to know where that taxi just went."

"I'm sorry, sir. That's none of your business."

The guy grabbed his wallet off the passenger seat, and pulled out five crisp one hundred dollar bills. "Perhaps it's my business now?"

I looked at the five bills. That was more than I made in two weeks, and all this joker wanted to know was where a taxi went. I thought about it for a few seconds and then pocketed the money. "He had me call the Sutherland residence. He's a friend of Mitchel Sutherland."

The prick in the car smiled wide and dug another five bills out of his wallet. "Perhaps you could open the gate and look the other way after you've given me directions to the house."

I looked at the bills. Telling him where the car went was one thing. Letting him into the neighbourhood and giving him directions was a completely different matter. "Naw man. I can't do that."

The man raised an eyebrow and pulled out another five bills. "Is this enough incentive?"

"I...uh." I contemplated my next move for five or six seconds and then took the money and it into my pocket. I walked back into the booth and pressed the button to raise the gate. I directed him to the Sutherland house. Fifteen hundred dollars was a lot of money. Enough to get my kid the braces he's needed for a while.

I sat back down on the chair and looked at my radio. Slowly, I picked it up, and brought it to my mouth. "Patrol one, this is the office."

"Patrol one. Go ahead."

"You wanna check out the west side of the neighbourhood. I think we're gonna have problems there tonight."

"What kinda troubles?"

"I don't know. It's just a feeling I have."

"All right. I'll concentrate on the west side. It's all quiet on the east side anyway."

I leaned back in my chair. Pulling Allan away from the Sutherland residence would cover my tracks. No one would ever know that I had let someone in.

I pulled on my shorts and t-shirt as fast as I could. What the hell did Scott want? Why the hell was he coming here? Did he honestly think I would do anything but give him a piece of my mind after what he said to me? The doorbell rang as I walked out of my room. Scott needed a kick in the ass, and I was more than willing to give it to him.

I pulled open the door and prepared to tear into Scott. He looked up at me with his blood shot eyes and runny nose. I paused for a second and then remembered what this prick had done to me. "What do you want, Scott?"

He sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve. "I was wrong. I'm sorry, Mitchel."

"That doesn't change anything," I replied coolly. If Scott thought that he was going to get back on my good side by just apologizing, he was sadly mistaken.

"I...I know. I know it'll probably take you a long time to forgive me, but you're the only one I can turn to. I need your help."

"Why should I help you?"

"Because I love you?"

"You love me? You DUMPED me! You tossed me out because 'I'm not famous' and 'I wouldn't understand the pressures of being a gay celebrity'."

"I was wrong..." Scott started.

"Uh huh. You were wrong, but you're only wrong because you need my help."

Scott looked down at his feet. I glared at him for another fifteen seconds, and then stepped out of the doorway. "Come in." Scott stepped into the entryway and tried to hug me. I held him away from me, and shook my head. "No. I'm going to help you. We are NOT going to get back together with you."

Scott nodded sadly and followed me into the kitchen. He sat down at the table while I grabbed a Coke from the fridge. "Did you want anything?"

Scott shook his head and continued looking at the table. I shrugged, and grabbed the seat beside him. I popped the top on the can, and looked at Scott. "So, what happened?"

"I..." Scott paused and looked up at me. "This is so hard."

"Why?"

"Because..." Scott sighed. "I better start at the beginning."

"The beginning is always a good place to start."

"We've been in the studio for the past two weeks. It hasn't been a good time. There's been a lot of fighting, a lot of bickering. My dad has basically blamed me for it all. It's my fault that the song doesn't sound right. It's my fault that Clint missed a note, or played the wrong note. It's my fault that my voice is faltering at the end of the afternoon."

"I needed to get away tonight, but my dad grounded me. He had Clint watching my door, just in case I decided to sneak out. So my Dad knows I snuck out. He also knows that I decked Clint so that I could get past him."

"Is that all the problem is?"

"No. There's more."

"I eventually ended up in a diner, where I wanted a bite to eat. This guy, he sat down beside me and started hitting on me. Really hitting on me. He invited me back to his place."

"You didn't go with him?" I asked incredulously. He just nodded his head and closed his eyes. "You were worried about me being discreet! What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that my brothers were right. That I couldn't have a relationship, just anonymous sex until my musical career was over. I thought it would be safe. That no one would know."

"When we got back to his place, I got cold feet. He kissed me and pushed down my pants, and..." Scott stopped, and bowed his head.

I looked over at Scott, and placed my hand on his shoulder. I was waiting for him to tell me that the guy had hurt him, or forced him. When he continued, I just frowned.

"And then I heard this loud bang and a picture fell to the floor. The picture had been covering a camera."

"So, what you're saying is that someone knows you're gay and may have pictures."

Scott nodded and looked at me hopefully.

"And exactly, what the fuck am I supposed to do? I don't know who took the pictures, and I'm doubtful that you could stop him from publishing them. There is nothing I can do."

"I just thought..."

"NO! You didn't think. How could you be so naive?"

"I just...I need someone who loves me for me."

"I loved you for you and you dumped me."

"I know."

"And then you went out looking to get laid with some stranger."

"I didn't go looking to get laid."

"But when the possibility came up, you jumped at it."

"I made a mistake."

"Yes, you did." I stood up, and walked away from the table. "There's nothing we can do Scott. All we can do is get ready for the media shit storm that those pictures are going to cause."

"Is it going to be that bad?"

I looked Scott right in the eye. "What do you think?"

Scott nodded and stood up. "I guess I should call a cab and head back to the hotel."

"Why don't you stay here tonight? You can talk to my dad in the morning. He's going to be working on the damage control team."

"I thought that you didn't want to get back together with me."

"I don't. You'll be sleeping in the spare room. Alone."

"Oh. I, uh."

"Save it. You thought that I'd be ready and willing to jump into bed with you. Follow me. I'll show you to your room."

Scott followed me silently as I led him to the guest room. I put out a couple of towels and some other things for him. I walked back to my own room, and sat down on the bed. It was so hard pushing Scott away, but I wasn't going to let him get away with treating me like a doormat.

I pulled my clothes off and slipped into my bed. I lay there for about an hour, tossing and turning. Try as I might, I still felt bad for Scott. And I realized that I still loved him. Grabbing my robe, I slipped out of my room and walked down the hallway to the guestroom. I could hear Scott crying from the hallway.

I paused at the door, and took a deep breath. Pushing the door open, I peered into the dark room. "Scott?"

Hearing Mitchel call my name was the first bright spot in a night that had started at bad, and gotten steadily worse. At first I thought I might be hearing things, but when I saw him look into the room at me, my heart leapt.

"I'm sorry, Mitchel," I said, trying to hold back my tears.

Mitchel walked across the room and sat down on the bed beside me. He pushed the hair out of my eyes and smiled at me. "It's all right," he whispered. "I'm sorry I was so mean to you tonight."

"I deserved it," I whispered back. "You were right about everything."

Mitchel frowned and continued stroking my face. "I wish I wasn't right. Scott, I do love you. A lot."

"Really? Even after..."

"Even after," Mitchel said interrupting me. "Why don't you close your eyes and go to sleep. We can talk about this tomorrow morning."

"I'd sleep a lot better if you'd sleep with me."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I need someone to hold me."

"All right." Mitchel stood up and slipped off robe. He looked so beautiful standing there naked. He slid into the bed with me and hugged me tightly. "Now, close your eyes beautiful, and try to sleep."

I rolled in his arms so I was facing him. I wanted Mitchel. But I didn't want to push my luck. I smiled and tried to scare up enough courage to ask him to make love to me.

"Something wrong?" Mitchel asked, rubbing my back.

"No, not really. I just, um. Will you make love to me? I want you to take me and make me yours."

"Not tonight, Scott. You've had a bad night."

"I know, and that's why I need this. I need one perfect moment with you."

"I don't know."

"I know it's a lot to ask, but I really love you and I want to spend my life with you. I want to make this a new beginning for us."

Mitchel smiled at me, kissed me tenderly. "All right. We'll do it. I'll go get my tube of KY jelly."

"Thank you, Mitchel," I whispered, hugging him tightly. He slid out of the bed and walked out of the room. I pushed the covers aside, and pulled off my boxers. I didn't want to get the sheets or the comforter all slimy. Besides, it would be too warm fucking under the covers. As I lay back down, my cock rolled off my sac and continued lengthening.

"Happy to see me?" Mitchel asked as he walked into the room.

"Yeah," I whispered, looking at Mitchel. He was looked so beautiful standing silhouetted in the doorway.

"I'm gonna turn on the lights. I want to be able to look you in the eyes when we, uh...When I uh, you know."

"All right." Mitchel flipped on the lights and walked over to the bed.

"Let's take it slow, and make it last," Mitchel said, stroking my cheek.

"I love you," I said kissing Mitchel passionately.

I nearly shit my pants when Scott's lover turned on the light. I yanked off the low light lens and switched over to a regular lens. I had a couple of nice shots of the two of them holding each other. I managed to get the lens on just in time as Scott kissed his boyfriend. 'Jackpot!' I thought as I zoomed in on the two of them sucking face. The angle was perfect. They couldn't see me standing out by the window, and I was able to get their whole faces, and their bodies. This was gonna make me a mint.

I stood outside the window for almost an hour, as they explored each other's bodies. When Scott's boyfriend finally mounted him, I got the whole thing. Scott's face was all screwed up in pain and ecstasy. He was losing his virginity. This was even better. A lot of people would pay good money for this tape. Of course, they'd fuzz out their cocks, but there would be no denying that Scott was gay.

When they finished, Scott curled up in his boyfriend's arms. Quietly, I put the camera down, and slunk away from the window. I had everything I needed, and it hadn't cost me a whole hell of a lot. When I got back into the car, I looked at the notepad where I had written down the name of Scott's friend. "Mitchel Sutherland," I whispered to myself. Had to make sure I gave the name to all the tabloids when I sold them the pictures.

I punched a number into my cell phone and drove back towards the gate. The phone rang four times before someone picked up.

"It's 1:30 am. Whoever is calling better have a good reason for waking me."

I smiled. Amy was always a bitch when I woke her up before her late at night. She wouldn't be a bitch for much longer. Enquirer TV loved exclusives like this. And they paid very well. "I have a fabulous reason, Amy. I have your lead story for tomorrow morning's show."

"And what would that be, Rob?"

"Scott Moffat is gay."

"Really? And you have proof?"

"I have a videotape of him taking it up the ass from his boyfriend. Is that enough proof?"

"More than enough. I'll meet you at the studio in half an hour. We'll need to edit the video."

"And discuss how much Enquirer TV is gonna pay."

"If the tape is any good, you'll be well compensated." Amy replied. "See you there."

Continued.