Thirsty Old Men Ch. 04

Previously

"My fault?!" Ericsson was shouting now.

Davenport nodded vehemently. "He wouldn't have felt compelled to tell us that story if you'd been able to control your urges!"

"Point of fact, Davenport, he was compelled to tell us the truth!" Cutledge roared.

"And that truth is going to get you a baby, Jake," Davenport stated calmly. "And you," he looked at Ericsson, "it's going give you the one thing you've always wanted but never had."

He glowered at them, staring them down. "Now, both of you look me in the eye and tell me you don't still want to go through with this!"

Stunning both of them, Cutledge got out of the car, but not before commanding Bryce, "Get your ass to that basement right now!"

With a self-satisfied grin, Davenport followed Cutledge into the house. Ericsson was left alone in the dark to ponder his next move. He was just about to head inside, determined to see this thing through, when something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. Looking up, he spotted Bryce's single glob of cum on the ceiling of the truck. After a quick glance at the house to make sure that no one saw, he reached up, scooped the cum onto his index finger, and brought it to his mouth.

He'd swallowed it before he realized just what he'd done.

Chapter Four

Blind.

That's how Bryce felt when he was finally able to open his eyes. He vaguely remembered a male voice commanding him to wake up just a few moments before, but it seemed like ages to Bryce before he finally felt 'awake'. He blinked his eyes against the harsh surgical light that was suspended over him. When he tried to raise his hand to shield his eyes, it wouldn't budge. Puzzled, he glanced down at it, but found that nothing was holding him down. He tried to move it again, but got the same result. The same thing happened with his other arm, both legs, and his hips. From the neck down, the jock was completely immobile. He was also, he realized in a rush of embarrassment, completely naked and still sporting a raging erection.

His body rested on a recliner constructed entirely of clear Lucite. The back was propped at a perfect forty-five degree angle, as was the section supporting his spread legs, and his heels rested on a pair of stirrups. He felt like squirming because he wasn't quite comfortable in the chair, but he couldn't move. It took him a moment to realize why he was unable to sit comfortably, but then he realized that his ass cheeks were being held apart by some odd sort of cage. The more he concentrated on it, the more he could feel a slight breeze licking over his open crevice and the tight bud of muscle between his cheeks. 'There's a hole or something in this chair!' he realized with dawning trepidation. Indeed, the Gluteus Cage had been fitted to into the chair, and the 'seat' he was in was actually the cage itself.

As his eyes began to adjust further, he frantically took in his surroundings. He was in a large, clinically clean space. Everywhere he looked, some strange new sight met his eyes -- machines whose functions he could only guess at, devices so complex he worried that it might actually hurt his brain to even give assessing them a try. A stainless steel tray sat atop a cart next to his head. The tray was empty, save for a long silicon tube that was about two-inches in diameter and rounded on both ends. When Bryce craned his neck to get a better look at, he noted with some confusion that it was covered in small, evenly spaced bumps.

"Where the hell am I?" he asked the empty room.

Thoroughly confounded already, he couldn't help the startled, reflexive jump that leapt through him when the segment of the wall in front of him began to descend into the floor. As it went, another room was slowly revealed to him. Just on the other side of the wall, he spotted a suspension bar with several straps hanging from it. Judging from the tautness of the straps, Bryce figured that they must have held something rather heavy.

His jaw went lax once the wall had descended enough for him to see exactly what...or who was trapped in the binding contraption.

"Gareth?" he whispered in shock, struggling to rise from his own confinement to aide his unconscious friend. "Gare! Come on, man, wake the fuck up!" The two jocks were positioned so that they were facing each other and Bryce could see that Gareth's face and body were covered with sweat.

Gareth didn't respond, though. He just moaned softly in his unconscious state. Bryce stared in disbelief, taking in the sight of his friend, bent forward on all fours and hung in the air with his ass high and legs spread. Because his ass was so high, Bryce could clearly see that it was encased in the same contraption that must have been holding his own cheeks apart.

In the silence between Gareth's tortured moans, Bryce could hear a faint squishing sound coming from somewhere behind Gareth. He quickly realized that it was actually coming from Gareth's behind and watched in horrified fascination as a shiny, clear nub of some rubbery looking plastic began to slowly appear between Gareth's raised ass cheeks. As more of it began to protrude, it dipped down towards Gareth's balls, disappearing from sight for a moment before landing with a sickening splat on the white tile floor.

Bryce stared the squirming thing, this wriggling plastic 'worm', in horror. It was a skinnier, smooth version of the thing on the tray next to him! Suddenly, the hole in the seat of the chair made sense and Bryce began to panic.

"Ah, yes," a voice sounded from the top of the stairs at the far end of the room. "He should be fully awake now. I think it's time to wake Gareth as well. We'll be down in a moment, Marshall. Please make sure our new specimen is prepped and get Gareth cleaned up and ready for phase three."

"Sure thing, Uncle Tyson," a younger voice replied eagerly.

Bryce frowned. 'Marshall? Marshall Clancy?' he thought angrily. 'What the fuck?'

He heard Dr. Clancy shout down in a commanding voice, "Gareth, wake up!"

Bryce turned his attention back to Gareth. He watched as his friend slowly opened his eyes and gave his head a quick shake to clear it. Gareth immediately noted his binds and tried to pull against them, his body struggling hard against the Reverse Harness.

"Gare?" Bryce called.

Instantly, the darker-haired jock stopped struggling and his gaze snapped over to his friend. "Bryce? Oh, my god! Bryce, you gotta help me outta this thing!"

"Dude, I can't even move myself!" Bryce replied just as frantically.

Gareth looked him over in confusion. "But you're not tied down or anything, how..."

Bryce shook his head. "I don't know how, but I'm just as stuck here as you! What the fuck's going on?"

Instead of answering him, though, Gareth began to panic. "Oh, shit. Oh, shit. We have to get outta here! I can't take anymore!"

"What are you talking about?" Bryce asked urgently. "What do they want?"

He watched as Gareth's eyes widened and he issued a hard groan. Bryce's gaze snapped up to Marshall who was now standing behind Gareth with a grin on his freckled face. He hadn't even heard Marshall come down the stairs. As Bryce watched, the muscles in Marshall's right arm were moving, but Bryce couldn't see what Marshall's hand was doing. But when Gareth gave several grunts and his eyes widened further, Bryce realized that Marshall was fingering his friend's upturned ass.

"What we want," Marshall said, continuing to pivot his middle and index fingers in and out of Gareth's pink hole, "is your cum."

Bryce could feel himself getting angry. They'd never done anything to this punk before, in fact, Gareth actually played nice to the little bastard. While Bryce had never really been buddy-buddy with Marshall, he'd laid off of him for Gareth's sake. It didn't make any sense. "Why are you doin' this? What'd we ever do to you, Clancy?"

Marshall smiled again, curving his fingers down to pet Gareth's prostate. Gareth moaned, his eyes rolling back even as he turned his head to the side to avoid the shame of Bryce seeing his face.

"Bryce Duke and Gareth Prince," Marshall began. "The two most popular guys at school from way back. I used to watch you guys in the locker room growing up, did you know that? Every year you just seemed to get bigger and better. Me? Not so much. I've wanted Gareth for a long time -- wanted to touch him, rub him down and lick every inch of his body since I can remember. And you? Man, the stories everybody heard from Hayleigh "Sugar Pussy" McElroy about that dick of yours. Whew, I've wanted a taste of that since freshman year."

Marshall stopped to pull his fingers from Gareth's ass and went to his knees to pick up the weakly squirming worm from the floor. He looked back up at Bryce. "What do you think would'a happened if I'd just asked one of you guys out?"

"We'd have told you to go fuck yourself!" Bryce hissed.

Marshall responded with a quiet chuckle as he reached up to grab Gareth's dick. He pulled it down and wrapped his moist lips around the bulbous head. He let his tongue swirl around it, dancing over the tip and into the slit, sucking softly on the smooth flesh. Gareth moaned and rolled his hips, clearly loving the sensation of Marshall's tongue on this dick even though it made him uncomfortable. All the while, Marshall never took his eyes off of Bryce's face.

"Mmmmmmm," he moaned as he pulled his mouth away from the treat of Gareth's cockhead. "That's exactly what I thought you'd have said, too. Which is precisely why I jumped on this opportunity as soon as I got the call from my uncle."

Marshall stood and sauntered over to Bryce, who shrank back as best as he could from him.

"Because you see," Marshall whispered, dragging his fingertips from Bryce's ankle, over his leg and thigh, up his side to this chest, "now I have you and I didn't have to suffer the humiliation of a rejection. And you," he said with a smile, flicking his finger of Bryce's right nipple, "will thoroughly enjoy every second of this. You may not want to admit it...but you will."

Bryce shook his head and forced himself to lower his voice. He was going to try a different approach. "Look, Marshall, I'm not gay and neither is Gareth. I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is. Please, don't do this to us."

"But I don't want you to want me, Bryce. I just want to play a little and you don't have to be gay for this to work," Marshall replied. "Just tell yourself that you're doing this for science, for the greater good."

With that, he went to a set of cabinets behind Bryce and grabbed a large tube of lube with a lightning bolt logo that ran down the side.

Gareth, who'd recovered from his brief prostate massage, recognized the bottle. It was the Nerve Attack lube. "Marshall, buddy, please don't do this to him!" he shouted.

Marshall walked back over to Bryce and frowned at Gareth. "I can't wait til Davenport comes back down here and changes your tune. He's got something really special planned for the two of you, you know, for Bryce's first milking."

"Milking?" Bryce was feeling more anxious and worried by the second.

Marshall grinned again and nodded. "Oh yeah," the nerd said, taking the top of the lube and pouring a generous amount into the palm of his hand. "You're gonna get drained."

He took the handful of lube, grabbed Bryce's still hard cock, and slathered it with the cool, slippery stuff. Bryce jumped and the muscles in his thighs bunched in protest as he struggled to move away from Marshall's touch, but just like before he was unable to move.

Almost instantly, Bryce noticed the effects of the lube. He could feel Marshall's touch all the way through his penis and every nerve reacted with raucous pleasure. He'd never felt anything like it.

"Uggggghhh!" Bryce groaned, throwing his head back. "Fuck!"

"Stop it, man!" Gareth shouted, struggling to break free of the Reverse Harness once more. "Leave him alone!"

Dr. Clancy, Davenport, Cutledge, and Ericsson chose that moment to descend the stairs into the lab.

"Did somebody wake up on the wrong side of the harness?" Ericsson taunted Gareth, adjusting his own erection through the pocket of his slacks. He kept his right hand in his pocket because it had begun to quiver and spasm. While that alarmed him, he admitted to himself that that unexpected movement from his own hand felt delicious against his throbbing cock. He could already feel his balls filling and practically wanted to pound his chest with the anticipation of what he knew would be a spectacular orgasm.

Davenport chuckled as Ericsson and Cutledge each grabbed a rolling stool from the back wall and Dr. Clancy joined his nephew near Bryce's head. The doctor picked up the bottle of lube poured some of it over the silicone worm in the tray. "Marshall, leave his dick alone," he said curtly. The nerd reluctantly drew his hand back and wiped it over the leg of his jeans.

They all watched as the worm began to squirm. Bryce began to shake his head frantically. "Please, please! I've never had anything in my butt before! Please don't do this!"

"Listen to him!" Gareth shouted. "Let him go!"

Davenport rolled his eyes at Gareth. "All this camaraderie could be put to better use, don't you think?" He walked over to Gareth and got right in his face. "From this point forward, you will only speak to Bryce to encourage him. Let him know how good everything is going to feel, how much he's going to love this, how much you love this. You can't look away because you want to watch and talk him through it, Gareth. Be a pal and stick this out with him."

Bryce watched as Davenport stepped aside and Gareth's eyes seemed to cloud over. "No, Gareth! No!" He looked at Davenport angrily. "What have you done to him?!"

Instead of answering, Davenport asked, "So you've never had anything in your ass?" He didn't wait for Bryce to answer. "We wouldn't want to just let that worm have its way with your tight little hole without any preparation, now would we?"

Davenport turned to Ericsson. "You like the taste of ass, don't you?"

The Swede's eyes lit up. "I fucking love it," he replied, licking his lips and walking over to Bryce.

"Alright then," Davenport purred. "Prepare him for us."

Ericsson went to the floor under the chair and sat down. He held himself up by the sides of the chair and positioned his head so that he was looking directly at Bryce's cage-spread ass. He grabbed the cranks on either side of Bryce's ass and wedged the jock's cheeks open wider, until the natural pucker of his hole was exaggerated as it spread. Ericsson sighed at the sight of Bryce's perfect asshole. The hole itself was smooth but about an inch out, there was a faint dusting of downy blonde hair. Ericsson's mouth was watering as he leaned up, stuck his tongue out and traced the circle of muscle wetly.

Every muscle in Bryce's body tensed in reaction. "Stop! Please!" he begged, each of his words ending on a breathless moan that belied their intent.

Gareth watched on with hungry eyes, taking in the sight of Ericsson's tongue the outside of his best friend's asshole. "Yeah, Bryce. Let him lick you," he said breathlessly. "Feel his tongue wiggling all over your hole!"

"Gare?" Bryce was shocked. "You don't know what you're saying!"

Gareth continued to stare at the spot where Ericsson tongue swirled. "Man, I wish you could see it. Your asshole is all shiny, dude. And it's quivering like crazy. I bet it feels so good the way his tongue is licking you. Mmmmm, now he pointing it straight at the middle of your hole. He's gonna tongue-fuck you, dude."

Ericsson had made his tongue a rigid spear and was slowly pushing it into Bryce's puckered hole. When it was about two inches in, he began to rotate it in Bryce's ass.

"Fuck!" Bryce grunted. "Uggh, no! Take it out! Take it out of me!" He groaned and tried to push Ericsson's tongue out of his butt, but that only made the older man moan as his tongue was squeezed harder.

He pulled it out and took a few deep breaths while he leaned back to assess the hole adoringly. "Tastes so fucking good," he moaned as he dove back in, thrusting his tongue back into Bryce's ass and wrapping is lips around the puckered ring of his anus. He moaned louder as he simultaneously tongue-fucked and sucked the blonde jocks perfect asshole.

"Agghhh! Ughhh! Ugnnnnnn...noo!" Bryce moaned over the sucking sounds that came from beneath him. He turned his head when he caught movement from the corner of his eye. The doctor was rolling another cart over to him. Something long, bumpy, and round was under a sheet on top of the cart. Once the doctor had the cart next to him, he pulled the sheet off and Bryce gasped.

It was a cylinder constructed from a tight coil of clear plastic wire. It reminded him a bit of the butt cage and he wondered if it was meant to cage his cock. The doctor reached down to the next level on the cart and pulled out a stainless steel box. When he opened the lid, Bryce saw about a hundred dime-sized clear silicone beads. Each one had a small hole in the center and a thin string seemed to thread each bead together. The doctor lifted the string and tied the end of it the end of the coil cylinder. He then tipped it up and the soft beads began to run down the string and onto the coil, winding their way down to the bottom until the coil was lined with them. The doctor placed a larger steel bead on the end and twisted it down tightly so that the other beads couldn't fall off of the cylinder.

"This," Dr. Clancy said, as he held up the strange thing, "is one of my favorite toys." He laid it back on its side and rolled it over the smooth surface of the tray top. Each small bead functioned like a wheel, rolling the whole cylinder back and forth.

"See how it moves?" the doctor asked as he let go of it and went to the cabinet. He came back with a vase-like container and removed the lid. He then picked up the beaded cylinder and dipped it into the vase. It came out covered in lube -- the same Nerve Attack lube from before.

Bryce realized too late what the doctor had in mind, not that he would have been able to get away. Even still, he tried to move his hips away as the doctor placed the bottom of the cylinder at his cockhead and began to slowly push it down onto his shaft. The beads rolled as the whole cylinder descended, massaging his dick as they went. The sensation was unlike anything he'd ever experienced and that coupled with the feeling of Ericsson's tongue on/in his asshole had him throwing his head back and moaning in unabashed pleasure.

"Ughhhhnnnnnnnn," he whimpered as the doctor pulled the beaded cylinder up slowly and then pushed it back down.

The doctor alternated speeds, fucking it onto the blonde jock's dick fast, then slow, then fast again. After a couple of minutes, Dr. Clancy told them that he thought Bryce was ready. Reluctantly, Ericsson, pulled his tongue out of the jock's ass but he planted a wet kiss smack on the middle of the puckered hole before he stood with a wanton growl.

Davenport, who'd noticed Ericsson's rather passionate behavior, asked with a quirked brow, "Are you feeling alright, Alrik?"

"Never better," Ericsson replied, hurrying back to sit on the stool and cover his crotch. There was a wet mark on the front of his pants and it was getting bigger by the second. Ericsson could barely remember the last time he'd put out any pre-cum at all. He knew he'd never emitted this much.

"Very well, then," Davenport answered, though he wasn't entirely convinced by Ericsson's act and he'd seen the wet mark on the man's pants. He turned back to the doctor. "Ready, Doc?"

Dr. Clancy nodded and emptied a small tube of the Nerve Attack lube into Bryce's asshole, then lifted the silicon worm from the tray and held it in the air before the jock's eyes. All the while, he continued to pump his dick with the beaded cylinder. The blonde jock nearly went cross-eyed staring at the wriggling worm. "Will it hurt?" he asked, torn between shameful apprehension and aroused anticipation.