How To Rape A Straight Guy by Sullivan, Michel (phonics reader .TXT) 📗

the brothers to hold him there.  Not so much ‘cause he was strong as he was scared.  He had good reason to be.  These five fuckers’d really do him a number.  They’d already pulled his pants an’ boxers down to his knees.  They must’ve shoved somethin’ in his mouth, because his yellin’ was muffled; the machines drowned out what little you could hear.

Shamar slapped me on the back an’ said, “Gentlemen, we got a guest.  An’ as a truly gracious host, I’ve offered him first crack at the crack.”

The brothers laughed an’ one of them smacked the dude’s ass, hard.  He kept yellin’ an’ kept strugglin’ but it kept doin’ him no damn good.

Shamar leaned against the wall, to catch a better view, it looked like.  “Use expectorate to lubricate.”

“What?” I asked.

“Spit.”

“Do this a lot, huh?”

“I gotta answer that?”

I shook my head, unzipped my fly -- leavin’ the belt nice an’ tight, just to be safe -- whipped it out an’ whipped it up an’ helped myself to the offerin’.  The guy yelled an’ squirmed, but with five men on him, he couldn’t do shit.

It wasn’t bad, bein’ inside him, but I had to put my mind into overdrive to pull Connie into my line of sight.  An’ it never got past the point of fantasy, y’know?  Like I was fuckin’ my right hand -- no, more like fuckin’ a pillow.  An’ when I was done, I wiped off an’ packed away an’ shrugged.

“Not bad, but not for me, man.”

“It’s cool, Curt,” said Shamar.  “At least you ain’t no virgin, no more.  Thanks for loosenin’ him up for me.”  Then he showed me his dick an’ all I could think was “ouch.”

I went back to work as they got busy.  An’ I tucked it away as somethin’ tried but not my thing.  Not till that rich-bitch kid in my cell.

But ya know -- an’ this is the first time I really put two an’ two together -- I figure that first fuck may’ve opened the door to the second one.  An’ that lead to later ones an’ straight to where I was now.  I mean, you got a need?  You gotta find some way to fill it.  Like “B” follows “A” an’ “C” follows “B”.  An’ maybe you find out what you fill that need with now is better than what you used to fill it with then.

If that makes any sense.

Aw, shit, I was so fuckin’ confused.  So fucked up.  I’d been so busy plannin’ this whole operation with Wayne an’ fightin’ with Connie an’ barely makin’ a buck an’ a half off those dykes I worked for an’ thinkin’ ‘bout what I could do when I got that car an’ the cash, I hadn’t really thought about what it all meant to me.  This.  What this was doin’ to me.  But now, in a blindin’ flash, I had one of those rare moments where I was able to see just how completely, totally an’ absolutely I’d fucked up my life.  Startin’ with the drugs, goin’ through my first rape right up to goin’ after Shayes.  An’ it made me sick to my stomach.  I kept tryin’ to convince myself that it wasn’t too late to stop this train wreck I suddenly saw comin’.  But it was.  It was.

I finished the beer an’ popped another.  I was startin’ to feel a bit better.  Physically.  An’ my mind was easin’ back into a blank; that’s my safety zone.  The beer was beginnin’ to give me a buzz -- unusual for me after just two.

That’s when I remembered I was still wearin’ my ski mask, so I wiped it off an’ rubbed my face.  The little sugar ants were retreatin’.  I was finally able to look around an’ notice the sky was gettin’ cloudy an’ a cool wind was pickin’ up.  Maybe some rain comin’ with it.  Typical June weather; hot one day, wet as shit the next.  But I love the rain.  It’s clean.  Almost makes me feel clean.

I could just hear somethin’ fall over inside the shed.  Wayne an’ Lenny must’ve already started havin’ fun.  An’ it sounded like the foam was workin’ on the walls, since I couldn’t really hear anything else above the a-c.

I pushed off from the post an’ wandered ‘round the yard.  I was back to bein’ numb.  Back to not thinkin’.  Back to not feelin’ anything about it, one way or the other.  I couldn’t have gotten my dick up, right then, but I wasn’t about to freak, anymore.  What’s done is done, Curt, ol’ buddy; make the best of it.

Then the shed’s door blew open an’ Shayes came barrelin’ out an’ slammed headlong into me!  We crashed to the little bit of grass an’ whipped against the fence, an’ suddenly he was screaming, “Police!  Help me!” at the top of his lungs!

I acted from instinct.  I scrambled on top of him an’ rammed my arm against his throat, but he blocked me with his own arms!  His wrists were still strapped together but they were in front of him!  Then he slammed my jaw with his two hands!

We rolled away from the fence an’ I grabbed him ‘round the chest!  He kicked an’ tried to flip me away, still screamin’ for help, but I had a lock on him, had his arms back to bein’ useless!  Then Lenny an’ Wayne appeared, an’ each of them grabbed one of Shaye’s legs an’ held on with all their might!  That gave me a chance to push my way to behind him an’ muffle his screams with my left arm as I held his arms tight to his chest with my right, usin’ every ounce of strength I had to keep control of him!  If his hands hadn’t been still tied, he’d have gotten away.  We struggled to our feet -- Shayes still fightin’