How To Rape A Straight Guy (14 page)

So that’s all it was.  Those fuckers were usin’ me -- no, usin’ my anger to help ‘em get their rocks off, that’s all.  Not a damn thing more.  I started to breathe almost as fast as Shayes, an’ I almost felt sorry for him.

Oh, man, I had to get out of that room.

I tried to back to the door, nice an’ slow, but Wayne noticed an’ came over to me, askin’, “What’s wrong?”

I almost froze...then I muttered, “I -- I need a beer.  Or some fresh air.  I guess.”

Wayne looked at me.  “You’re not backing out?  Not now.”

“No, man,” I whispered, barely able to talk.  “It’s just this -- this room; it’s freaking me out.  No windows.  One door.  Those cameras.”

“Does it remind you of prison?”  I’d swear there was a gleam in his eye when he asked me that.  “I understand.  There’s a cooler on the patio with some ice cold Beck’s in it, just for you.  Why don’t you have one.  Or two?  Have a smoke.  Relax.  We’ll get things ready for you.”

I nodded, just wantin’ out.  Just wantin’ away from Wayne’s voice.  From Shayes’ non-stop beggin’.  I backed to the door, opened it behind me an’ slipped outside.  As I closed the door, I saw Wayne’d turned back to the bed, an’ he told Shayes, “Don’t waste your voice, gorgeous.  You’re ours, now.”

I stumbled over to the patio, tryin’ to calm my brain down.  Hell, just calm my breathin’.  I found the cooler an’ popped a Beck’s an’ downed it in one gulp.  Didn’t even notice it.  I grabbed another one an’ had half that into my belly before I took a breath.  Then I leaned against this post an’ tried to sort things out.  Tried to stop shakin’.

You see -- an’ this ain’t no time for lies -- I...I really honestly wanted to fuck Shayes.  Way down deep, I wanted it.  An’ yeah, one reason I was doin’ it was to get even for all the crap in my life.  To do some damage, but that wasn’t all there is to it.  I -- I’d gotten to where I liked the feel of my dick up a guy’s ass.  Liked the way his balls’d rub against my pubes.  Liked bein’ able to get him off, especially when he didn’t want to.  An’ I looked at guys different because of it.  When Shayes left, that night, I remember noticin’ how nice his ass was.

Yeah, I told myself it’s cause I wanted to fuck him up, but there really was more to it than that.  Same for that stud outside the “A” Club.  Yeah, I wanted to hurt ‘em but I...I wanted to hold ‘em, too.  I wanted ‘em to be mine.  Couple of good-lookin’ guys, both of ‘em.  An’ that made me happier to be after ‘em.  Wantin’ ‘em.  Needin’ ‘em.  If that makes any sense.  An’ that fuckin’ room.  An’ it bein’ all set up to let me do whatever I fuckin’ wanted.  An’ it bein’ so fuckin’ obvious it was just there for sex.  It made me see what I was doin’ -- part of what I wanted to do -- was just be with ‘em.  No matter what.  An’ I didn’t care how much it was gonna fuck the guy up.  ‘Cause mingled in with all of this was just how much I liked holdin’ a guy, even when I’m rapin’ him.  An’ that’s fuckin’ nuts!  What the fuck was wrong with me?!    I...I...I’m straight!  I’m fuckin’ straight!

Ain’t I?

Shit, before motherfuckin’ Paco an’ his boys did me in County, I’d only been with girls.  Only liked girls.  Only wanted girls.  Never even thought about bein’ with a guy.  I loved -- love the way girls move an’ smell an’ fit my hands an’ mold into my body.  I loved -- love slippin’ my dick into their pussy an’ suckin’ their tits an’ screwin’ till dawn.  Me an’ Connie, we could’ve wrote the book about sex between a man an’ woman.  Hell, sometimes I could get off just lookin’ at a chick if she was pretty.  Like Connie.  But since Mid-State...

Man, I gotta admit, after six years there -- I got to where I was just as happy with one of my punks.  An’ yeah, I know, I know -- I was makin’ ‘em do things with me.  But they still felt right.  It all felt right.  It felt just as real as with a girl.  So does that make me a fag?  Did Paco -- hell, did fuckin’ Mid-State turn me queer?

No.  No, c’mon, Curt.  There was that first time, remember?  The first time you fucked a guy?  You didn’t get off on it.  I mean, you got off, but you didn’t get off.  If that makes any sense.

Yeah.  Yeah, it does.  ‘Cause when it happened, it wasn’t somethin’ I’d exactly planned on.  I’d been workin’ in the laundry six months when a couple brothers grabbed this fresh meat -- not even a kid; a guy in his thirties sent up for embezzlement, I think, but he was white an’ the brothers love to nail white guys.  They dragged him behind the machines an’ this one buck -- Shamar? -- saw me saw ‘em doin’ it.  He told me if I kept quiet, I could have a turn.

I was still livin’ off my right hand, at that time, so I wasn’t all that up for it.  So I just said, “It’s all between you guys.”

Shamar smirked an’ said, “C’mon, Curt, ain’t ya even gonna try it out?  I mean, shit, in here it don’t mean shit.”

“‘Cept to the guy who’s bein’ punked.”

“He’s ain’t no guy, now; he’s what you call a commodity.”

That hit me as funny.  I laughed an’ said, “You think if I go back there an’ get distracted, you can make me a commodity, too?”

“Shit, man,” he snarled in a nothin’ way, “if I did that, I’d have to kill ya.  An’ you’re white, so it’d be the needle for me, but if I didn’t kill ya, I’d have to watch my back the rest of my time in.  I seen how you work, how quick you caught on to this place.  It’s like you was born to it, man, so you’ll catch ont’ this, soon enough.”

“What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothin’, man.  You don’t wanna do it, now, that’s cool.  They’s waitin’ for me.”

He started behind the machines but I stopped him.  My last couple of yank sessions hadn’t been all that satisfyin’, I had to admit, an’ now he had my curiosity up.

“Wait, wait...you tellin’ me it really helps.  Gettin’ off like that?”

“Why you think we doin’ it?”

“Fuck whitey the only way you can.”

His eyes got cold.  I got ready for him, just in case.  But then he thought about it an’ laughed.

“Curt, you got too much fuckin’ mouth on you.”

“Man, you sound like my mom bitchin’ at me.”

He laughed even harder then motioned for me to join him.

“C’mon, bro’, why don’t you try it out?  No other way t’ know if it’s gonna help or not.  An’ tell you what -- I’ll even let you pop his cherry.”

“I dunno, man...“

“You don’t pop it, I will.  An’ it’d be better for him if you break him in.”

“Bullshit, I’ve seen you in the shower.”

“But you ain’t seen me in action mode.  It ain’t how it starts out; it’s how it ends up.”  He swung his hips around, laughin’.  “Get it?”

I just rolled my eyes, shook my head, gave it a second more’s thought...an’ went back there with him.

The guy was face down on the floor in this area that was just a bit wider than the passageway -- close to where I took that guard a few years later -- an’ it was takin’ four of 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’ like a madman -- an’ carried him back into the shed.

Through the whole thing, Shayes was screamin’, “Lemme go, you fuckin’ faggots!  Help!  Help me!  Fire!  Fire!  Faggot!  Keep the fuck off me!  Motherfuckers!  Help!  Police!”

The second we were inside, I kicked the door closed, behind me.  Then Wayne an’ Lenny grabbed some rope an’ tied Shayes’ ankles back together -- at light speed, it seemed.  Now that he couldn’t kick, they helped me force his arms up over his head an’ slip the strap around his wrists into the ring at the end of the cable.  Then they pulled the cable up, forcin’ him to hang by his wrists.  Now he was danglin’ off the floor.  He could struggle an’ curse an’ spit as much as he wanted, but he sure as shit wasn’t goin’ nowhere.

I’d taken most of the beatin’ -- at least, I got it from the point where Shayes got outside; once things were back under control, I saw Wayne had a cut over his eye an’ Lenny had a nosebleed.  An’ both of ‘em were pissed.

“What th’ fuck happened?” I asked ‘em.

Wayne glared at Lenny an’ said, “We were tying his feet to the bed posts, first his left foot and then his right.  But Lenny cut the straps around his ankles before I’d secured his left foot.  He kicked Lenny and rammed a knee into my back and slipped his hands under his butt before I could do anything to stop him.  He yanked off his blindfold and got to the door.  I tackled him, but he punched me.  Then he ran outside.  He was screaming the whole time; didn’t you hear him?”

“Not a word,” I said.  “Shit.”

Then I looked at Shayes.  He was hangin’ from the chain like a side of beef, half his shirt torn away, his shorts ‘round his hips, his briefs at an angle.  He had curled his arms to pull himself up to try an’ free himself from the straps, but they were caught too well inside the ring an’ he couldn’t get a good hold of the cable to pull himself up higher.

Any questions I had ‘bout what we were gonna do vanished.  Lookin’ back, I can see that’s when somethin’ else took over.  Unstoppable.  No barriers.  No control.  Somethin’ I’d only got near to once before, when I lost out on “Chad” an’ ripped into the first thing available.  The animal in me smelled blood.  Smelled its meat.  Was lookin’ at it an’...lovin’ the idea of it.  It couldn’t of been stopped now if I’d tried.  If I’d even wanted to.  It was somethin’ that just had to happen.  An’ all that worry an’ bullshit I’d been fussin’ over went out with the trash.  What I needed -- deep down needed -- meant ten times more to me...no, a thousand times more than anything else I’d ever even thought about.  Ever considered.  The animal...the lion...the jackal...whatever, it needed to be fed.  Even if it meant prison.  Even if it meant hell.