Christmas in Dixie
4
Part Four
"Now fuck me," Eddy ordered as he writhed facedown on the bed beside Brian. He was squirming with lust, alternately grinding his hips into the mattress and lifting them in invitation. "Fuck me!" he screamed when Dom didn't comply immediately.
Dom looked at the once white flesh of Eddy's back and thighs. New, pink lash marks crisscrossed old scars and fresh cigarette burns mingled with dark-tinted craters from the past.
This had been one of the hardest things that Dom had ever been forced to do and loathing filled him at the sight of his handiwork. Hatred for the sick fuck on the bed, as well as disgust for the fact that he'd been forced participated in it made his stomach roll.
"Now!" Eddy screamed. He twisted his head around and looked back over his shoulder at Dom. "You know the rules. Either fuck me, or watch as it's done to your pretty blond bitch."
One of Eddy's helpers stood threateningly over Brian, the master's abused member still stiff, hard, and erect within the cockrings despite the time that had passed. Dom glanced down at his own limp, uninterested penis and despaired. This bondage stuff just didn't turn Dom on -- in fact, it had the exact opposite effect -- and that had enraged Eddy.
When he'd been strung from the ceiling, bound and helpless, the first few stinging strokes of the whip had induced a semi-erection in Dom -- but that's the closest he'd come. Eddy had pounced on him, sucking so hard that the pain had drowned out whatever pleasure Dom might have felt.
Eddy had snarled his rage and had ended up on all fours in front of Dom. He had positioned himself so that Dom had an unobstructed view of his ass. One of the masters had used a dildo on Eddy to bring the sick fuck to a slobbering climax, but Dom hadn't reacted the way Eddy had hoped at all. Dom hadn't been aroused in the slightest by the show of domination and depravity.
They'd used the whip on Dom again, but to no avail. When one of the doms had become a little too zealous to achieve results and had broken Dom's skin, Eddy had nearly frothed with rage and frustration.
Eddy hadn't wanted Dom mastered -- he wanted him *as* his master.
That's when Eddy had come up with the maniacal plan to force Dom into playing the role of master to his slave. Eddy had ordered Brian tied to the bed as he'd explained the rules. Whatever he demanded, Dom had to perform on him -- or it would be done to Brian.
They'd kept Dom secured as they'd dressed him a complete leather harness, including the black mask. Then, before they'd released him, they had put one more thing on him.
"Just in case you get any ideas," Eddy had explained as the choke-chain was slipped over Dom's head and around his throat. "If you're tempted to get a little too rough -- or play the avenging hero -- this'll keep you under control."
Finally, they'd released his arms. Dom had been glad that the ball-gag in his mouth had blocked his painful groan as feeling had returned to his numb limbs with a vengeance. He'd lost his balance and had taken a step with his newly freed feet only to be brought up abruptly by the chain as it had tightened painfully around his windpipe.
They were using a capture stick on him.
It was the same sort of stick that lion-tamers used. A thin chain was threaded through the five-foot hollow pole. The loop that protruded from the far end was fitted around the beast's neck and could be tightened to a killing degree, while the length of the stick kept the captor safely out of reach of rending fangs and claws.
Effectively controlled, Dom had set about the task of bringing Eddy to another salivating orgasm. He'd played along, not entirely unwillingly. It had felt good to cut Eddy's flesh with whip -- the hardest part had been controlling his strength. He'd wanted to not only lay the skin open, but to cut through the meat -- to see the white flash of bone.
And he'd have done it, too.
Dom would have gladly killed him -- the fucker was not only the cause of their present predicament, but he'd also tried to have Brian killed in jail *and* Eddy was the one ultimately responsible for Tookie's murder. Dom would have whipped Eddy to death and never regretted it -- if he could have.
It hadn't been the chain around his neck and it hadn't been fear for his own safety that prevented the act -- it had been the threat to Brian.
Several times Dom had paused his arm during the scourging. He'd held the whip back, trying to rein in his hatred, trying to keep from committing serious injury and murder. Once Eddy'd even grown impatient with the delay and Brian had received three narrow stripes across his back as punishment. Dom had bit down on the rubber ball in his mouth and laid the leather across Eddy's plump ass with renewed resolve.
If Dom had found the lashing of Eddy slightly pleasurable, he found the burning of him repellant. The acrid odor had seeped through the black silk of the mask and again Dom had been close to vomiting behind the ball. The smell brought back the nightmare of his father's death. Still, he'd done it. He'd held the cigarette to the flesh of Eddy's back and watched as it bubbled. Better to do it to Eddy, than to allow it to be done to Brian.
But fuck Eddy?
Dom wondered how the hell was he supposed to do that with a dick as limp as wet noodle. Looking down at Eddy's abused flesh, Dom realized that the act would be a physical impossibility. He'd sooner fuck Brian's old boss, the ugly bastard, Bilkins, than this piece of shit that was still wiggling and panting with lust. The eager hole that Eddy thrust toward Dom was actually spreading and clenching with anticipation.
Dom turned his head and squinted through the eye slits of the mask. That big dildo must still be lying around somewhere. He supposed that he could manage to ram that up Eddy's ass. He spotted it on the nightstand, but when he reached for it Eddy let out a bellow of rage and the chain around Dom's neck contracted agonizingly. Dom dug at his throat with his fingers, trying to slip the tips behind the metal, but the master on the other end was too strong and too skilled.
The master kept jerking the pole, preventing Dom from getting any firm footing. The chain kept tightening around Dom's throat until his vision began to dim.
Eddy had slipped his wrists out of the ties and was literally jumping up and down on the bed in rage. "Impotent, bastard," he screamed at Dom. "Still can't get it up, can you? I guess we'll have to show you how it's done." Eddy looked at the other master and pointed at Brian. "Do him!" Eddy snarled. "No lube, no preparation. Rip him, use him until he bleeds."
Through vision that was rapidly fading, Dom's eyes focused on the metal cockrings that still encircled the dom master's dick. Visions of what would happen to Brian's vulnerable flesh haunted Dom as the master began to climb atop Brian. Dom fought harder, the chain tightened even more, and then ...
~*~
Dom awoke to the sound of crying -- gut-wrenching sobs of agony.
"Please don't be mad at me, Daddy," a slobbering male voice begged. "They forced me to do everything."
Dom tried to roll, but his hands were once again secured behind his back. By pressing his forehead into the carpet and using the aching muscles of his neck, he was able to shift his body enough to see through the mask.
Brian was still bound to the bed, but he appeared to be relatively unharmed -- no new injuries were evident and his white cotton briefs were still intact. His long body was twisted to the side and he was propped up on his elbows, straining to see what was happening on the other side of the room.
He looked okay and Dom felt like he could faint with relief, instead Dom shifted slightly and turned in the direction that Brian was looking.
Eddy was naked, bawling, and groveling at the feet of ... Devlin Jones.
"They set me up," Eddy mouthed as he kissed the mob boss's shiny black loafers. "They made me turn on you." Eddy lifted his tear-stained face upward. "They were the ones who tricked me in jail. They ..."
"Shut up, you fool," Jones said softly and Dom heard Eddy's teeth clack together as he instantly obeyed his master's order.
Dom felt a chill cross his exposed skin as the Dev Jones's cold, maroon eyes turned to him and seemed to touch his very soul. The racketeer was just as impressive as Dom had heard. He commanded attention, exuded evil, and looked like the devil himself with his silver-streaked, blood-red hair. Dom struggled to his knees, and tried, but failed to stand. He didn't want to be on his knees when the end came.
"I knew sooner or later Eddy would hunger for something that the Feds couldn't buy him," Jones said. The man spoke in a low voice, but Dom imagined that everyone for miles around could hear the words -- so much power was in the tone. "All I had to do was wait for him to dip into his private account -- then follow the money. Get up," Jones commanded abruptly and Dom bunched his muscles, prepared to make a second attempt before he realized that Jones was addressing Eddy.
The short, plump, bruised, welted, and bloody young man leapt to his feet and stood trembling. The loose flesh below his jaw wobbling with fear.
"You've caused me a great deal of inconvenience, my boy." Eddy began to sob; snot ran down his chin, mixing with the drool. Jones put his hand into the deep pocket of his overcoat. Dom couldn't help but hope that the mob boss was about to pull out a gun and blow Eddy's head off. "But I'm not going to kill you," Jones disappointed Dom by saying. Instead the mob boss produced a leash and what looked like a miniature collar. "I'm just going to punish you for a long, long time."
Eddy's eyes took on an eager, excited, hungry look and Dom prayed that a bolt of lightening would come down and put the sick fuck out of his misery.
With trembling hands, Eddy accepted the little collar and proceeded to put it on. Eddy slipped it over his testicles and tightened it around the base of his sac.
"Tighter," Jones whispered.
Eddy winced, but complied. The ring was now so tight that his balls bulged enormous and swollen. Then Eddy snapped the leash to a ring on the collar and presented the handle to Jones.
Jones accepted it regally and said, "Get dressed."
Eddy had a difficult time of it with the leash firmly attached to his groin, but through what Dom supposed was long practice, Eddy managed to hop into his pants. He couldn't button his fly of course, that's where the leash extended out.
"Now as for your friends ..." Jones looked at the twin masters.
They clung together, their massive arms wrapped around each other, trembling under the cold regard of Devlin Jones. Even as Dom watched, the master's amazingly resilient cocks deflated and the rings that they'd been sporting slipped uselessly to the floor in series of dull thuds.
"Go," Jones ordered. "And forget everything that you've seen here."
The two doms never hesitated. Hand-in-hand they fairly ran from the room, still decked out in full bondage-master regalia.
Dom once again felt Jones's eyes on him and, with a sinking feeling, he knew that he and Brian wouldn't be so lucky.
Jones stared at Dom for a long moment before turning his gaze toward where Brian was half-sitting on the bed. Devlin Jones tipped his head to one side as if he were contemplating the most painful way of getting rid of the two men. Cruel lips curled upward at the corners and Dom expected to see horns sprouting from beneath the glossy hair at any moment.
Surely, this man must be Satan incarnate.
"Merry Christmas," the most feared man on the West Coast, stunned Dom by saying.
Jones turned and yanked sharply on the leash. Eddy let out an, 'eep' of pleasure/pain as he was led from the room.
Dom and Brian stared at each other in amazement as the remainder of Jones's men filed out. They'd been granted a miracle and they both knew it. Jones could have killed them -- in fact it made no sense that he hadn't ...
"Eddy," Brian said as his understanding dawned. "He went willingly. Jones'll use us as witnesses if the Feds try to claim Eddy was kidnapped. As long as Eddy's alive, under Jones's control, and refuses to testify -- Dev Jones'll be able to beat the charges."
Dom rolled his eyes in disgust behind the mask.
"You know what this means, don't you?" Brian asked, the big, goofy grin that Dom had fallen in love with on his face.
All Dom could do was shake his head in silent confusion.
"It means," Brian said as he began tugging on his bonds. "That if we can just manage to get ourselves loose, that we're home free -- no more worries, no more hiding out."
Dom shuffled across the floor on his knees, and by leaning his torso against the side of the bed, finally managed to get to his feet. If he could just get turned around, maybe he'd be able to untie Brian.
"There you go," Brian said encouragingly as Dom began to turn. "We'll be fine now. After all," he grinned. "What else could possibly go wrong?"
The motel door swung open with a crash.
Dom stepped on one of the numerous sex toys that Eddy had left strewn around the room and lost his balance. The capture stick that still dangled from around his neck caught on the mattress, further upsetting his equilibrium. With his hands still bound behind him, still dressed in the leather harness, and still masked, Dom fell across Brian's nearly naked body.
Unfortunately, he landed facing the open door.
Facing the elderly man who stood in the doorway.
Facing the Bible clutching, elderly man who stood in the doorway.
Dom sprawled across Brian's back facing the elderly man who was missing his right hand, who was pressing the Holy Bible protectively to his chest with his left, who wore the white collar of a Pastor, and who's features were familiar enough to remove any doubt that he was ...
Brian's father -- the Minister -- stood in the doorway.
~*~