Retribution

Chapter One: Christmas Present for Himself

Jan heard his voice in the foyer and glided away from the man who was circling in on him and went to the door. The big Slavic bear of a guy, who had been introduced to him as Victor, had been pursuing him for nearly an hour and Jan was running out of ploys to politely elude him. That couldn't last long, because a customer was a customer, and Victor and his master were regulars of Jan's. It wouldn't be long before Justine noticed the man's dance of "want" and signaled for Jan to take him upstairs. Something in the man's eyes told Jan he didn't want to go upstairs with him tonight. The front door out onto the short lawn of the townhouse in the fashionable embassy section of Kalomara in northwest Washington, D.C., was open, and Jan could see that it was snowing. Not bad for Christmas Eve, he thought.

Justine was at the door, towering over the man who was entering even though the guy wasn't all that short himself. Justine was in full drag. The man entering and pounding the snow off his black leather coat was much as Jan had seen him before—a lot of black leather pulled tight across the well-toned muscles, an aura of danger, yes, but also of authority and self-confidence. Sexy, but clearly in a fully masculine way. The bow to Christmas was that the tight T under the coat was red rather than the usual black. He still looked the borderline thug. He still made Jan go hard just looking at him.

Jan knew Hardesty had pushed hard past forty—that showed in the gray struggling with the black of his buzz cut and in the close-cropped mustache and beard. And he'd had a hard life, as evidenced in rugged features and a nose beaten slightly off kilter. But he was one sexy dude and could, as Jan knew, deliver. He could deliver right to the edge and then do it again ten minutes later. The challenge was surviving the delivery—but once having done that, there was a need to do it again.

Hardesty's eyes moved briefly from Justine, whose stature and over-the-top look tonight was arresting, to Jan. His steely gray eyes slitted, and Jan shuddered at the sensation of being stripped down to naked and manhandled. This, even though, Jan was wearing only a silk, Christmas-festive slip over filmy panties like all of the rest of the "girls" were on this party night, so there wouldn't be much stripping required. Jan knew from that look that he wasn't being rejected for the night; he was in the running for Hardesty's pick.

"Good you could come, Hardesty," Justine said, stepping back so that the man could enter the all-male brothel. "We couldn't celebrate or feel well protected without you. Here, let me take your coat. Leslie," the madam called out, his fingers snapping and his voice turning to the harsh whiplash that so easily followed not being fast enough to do Justine's bidding. Another of the "girls" in a slip then stepped forward to take the man's black leather coat.

Leslie, Jan thought. Of course Leslie would be there jolly on the spot. Well, he better not try to mess with Jan's plans tonight. Now that Hardesty was here, Jan had every intention of maneuvering to be the one he took upstairs.

"Oh, my, you seem to have come armed," Justine said, and let out a harsh hoot of laughter.

Jan looked to where Justine was gesturing and almost hyperventilated. Hardesty had stretchy bands hanging out of the side pockets of his black leather trousers—a red one from one pocket and a green one from the other. The Christmas mood. Jan recognized them to be restraints, Velcroed restraints at either end of a short lead. Hardesty had come armed for nasty business. The brothel was fully equipped for such fun, but Hardesty had brought his own toys. Jan shuddered again, his mind racing with the possibilities, his determination to be Hardesty's for the night burgeoning. He knew that, though Hardesty was rough, he was controlled and would never go too far. Jan couldn't say that about all of the clients here. He looked around to see where Victor was lurking.

"Well, it's Christmas," Hardesty said, with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye. "And I find the best Christmas presents are ones I give myself."

With a shiver, Jan retreated back into the parlor and went roving around the room, which was decorated for Christmas, complete with ornament-laden tree, some of the ornaments being festive-colored condoms and others dangling ball gags and ball weights. Justine's was an extreme services brothel and didn't mind advertising that fact. A roaring fireplace with sheer net stockings hanging from the mantle completed the picture.

It was Christmas Eve, so the number of "guests" was sparse and there were more young men in slips in the room than there were older men being pampered. It was a closed party, something special Justine provided for a select number of important men who helped keep the operation unhampered. The ratio of guests to rent-boys helped Jan remain largely unencumbered while he circled the room, always keeping within the scope of Hardesty, while never making a direct move. He knew that Hardesty wanted to control and make the choice. Leslie was throwing himself at Hardesty, but Jan wasn't worried. He knew that didn't work with the thuggish hunk. Hardesty made his own decisions, and he preferred to have to pursue his quarry a bit. He valued a bit of resistance and tease.

He kept moving about until he knew that Hardesty was following him with his eyes. The Victor guy was tracking Jan again too, and Jan knew that he had to work a little faster on who he wanted to go upstairs with. Then two of the players got swept off the board, leaving Jan with a free path to his goal. The hulking Victor had gone to stalking Leslie, another one of his regulars, and it wasn't long before Jan saw the big brute cornering the competition and herding Leslie toward the staircase in the foyer to the upper rooms. The path clear, Jan posed and flirted with his eyes and body position until both he and Hardesty had made the unvoiced deal. Then he moved toward the stairs, stopping at the bottom of the steps, where Justine had taken up position.

"The blue room," Justine murmured, "Whatever he wants for as long as he wants."

Jan smiled at the madam and continued up the stairs as Hardesty came out into the foyer, nodded to Justine, and started mounting the stairs. Whatever he wanted as long as he wanted was exactly what Jan had in mind.

* * * *

Just inside the doorway to the Green Room, Victor slammed the door shut with one hand and backhanded Leslie to the carpet with the other. Leslie went down on all fours and Victor was on his back immediately, making short work of tearing away the silk shift and panties and getting himself unzipped and freed. Leslie didn't cry out, and even if he had, the reinforced walls and hidden peek passageways between the rooms of the brothel's bedrooms would have absorbed the sound. This was a special needs brothel—both clients and rent-boys understood that. Just about anything short of wet work went in these bedrooms. For a special party like this, run for those who enabled Justine's to exist, even wet work might be tolerated and covered up. There was no evidence it ever had happened, but there was no evidence that it hadn't either.

Leslie's "little extra" apparel for the evening had been a colorful scarf tied around his neck. Victor made use of it, fisting it, pulling it tight, arching Leslie's head and torso back as Leslie gagged and scrabbled at the scarf to try, vainly, to relieve the pressure on his throat. Victor made quick work of him, mounting his hips, penetrating him hard and thick, and pumping him furiously. Having Leslie fully under his control, Victor released the scarf and let Leslie's head drop, cheek to carpet and glassy-eyed stare focused on the Green silk covering of the wall, as Victor rode him to an ejaculation.

In the time out following the eruption, while both were breathing heavily, but Victor not moving off Leslie's back—a sure signal he wasn't finished yet—the Slavic brute lowered his thick lips to Leslie's ear and whispered, "When I am done with you, you will leave here with me. Another important client requires his present tonight. I will arrange it. The house will allow it."

"Yes, Victor," Leslie responded in a low whine. The Russian didn't have to say who the client was—or that there may be others there to service as well. How had Leslie gotten this involved in this business, he wondered. It had been a slow process working into a dangerous and untenable situation. Perhaps it was time he told someone. His mind went to Hardesty, who he had teased and lost downstairs. Then his thoughts went to his sore ass, as the brute, hard and insistent once more, thrust inside him and commenced pumping his channel again.

* * * *

Entering the Blue Room, which, of course, was decorated almost entirely in cobalt blue to distinguish it from the Red, White, Green, and Gold rooms, Jan went directly to one of the nightstands beside the king-sized tester bed, retrieved a tube of lubricant and a handful of condom disks, and moved back to and sat down, primly, on the foot of the bed.

Neither of them said anything when Hardesty entered the room. They'd both been here before—they'd both been here together before. Hardesty pulled the T-shirt over his head. His torso and biceps were hard-worked muscular, with veins prominently standing out because they had no fat to run through. The torso was marked with scars from knife slashes and a few pock marks from encounters with bullets, luckily placed. This enhanced the image of the man as a thug but also increased the danger of him and Jan's arousal. His pecs were bulging, his nipples rock hard. Jan was one of his favorite lays, and Jan knew it.

This was a special party; Hardesty could demand and receive special attention.

Hardesty was horse hung and would be fully erect already. Jan knew that too and he could see the stressed tenting at the man's crotch. What he didn't know was how he would be taken this time. Hardesty's heights of pleasure hinged on invention. Sometimes Hardesty took him fast and hard; sometimes he took his time and made Jan suffer deliciously. The restraint leashes hanging out of his pockets indicated he would take his time tonight, Christmas Eve. Jan trembled. He was going to be taken to heaven for Christmas—but on a very rough road.

He moaned softly when he saw Hardesty take other toys—a ball gag, tit clamps connected by a gold chain, and a string of graduated balls—out of his pocket and lay them on the bed on the other side of Jan from where the young rent-boy had placed the tube of lube and the condom packets.

Without further ado, Hardesty, standing close to Jan, moved his hands up Jan's trim and shaved thighs, grasped the waistband of the young man's panties, and slowly pulled them down and off his legs, caressing Jan's flesh as he did so. He'd didn't rip them, as Victor had done with Leslie in the Green Room. Hardesty's technique was a breath-taking combination of velvet hardening into steel.

Jan lifted his butt off the bed, in total submission, to aid the lowering of his panties. Hardesty then ran his hands into the hair on the back of the strawberry blond's head, gripped hard enough to make Jan give a little cry of surprise, and pulled Jan's face to his chest. Jan licked and kissed Hardesty's torso as Hardesty forced the head lower. By the time Jan reached the man's crotch, Hardesty was unzipped and his cock was out and proudly raised in a hard erection. Jan opened his mouth over the cock and, gagging slightly, took it deep into his throat.

* * * *

Jan clinched the ball gag in his mouth hard with his teeth. His eyes were watering; he was grunting, groaning, and moaning; his legs were cramping and going to sleep from the restraints, the red one on his right side trapping his wrist close to his ankle as he was positioned on the bed, chest and knees pressed to the mattress, and tail in the air. The green one was on the left doing the same with the other wrist and ankle. He was concentrating hard on remaining open—and opening further—to the baseball bat of a cock that was deep inside him; he was being rocked back and forth on his chest on the bed by the powerful, rhythmic thrusts of Hardesty's cock; Hardesty had a painful grip on the hair on the back of his head and was arching the young rent-boy's torso back toward the thuggish man's chest; He was slapping Jan's butt cheeks red with the other hand.

The young rent-boy was in ninth heaven, being taken over the edge again and again. Whenever Hardesty sensed that he or Jan was going to come, he held until the danger passed. Nobody did this better to him than Hardesty. He didn't want it this roughly from anyone else. But, from Hardesty, he wanted it constantly. He'd gotten it again and again from the hard-bodied hunk, taken from Christmas Eve into Christmas morning.

Exhausted, the young man zoned out. When he woke again, he was draped on Hardesty's body, his arms raised over his head, secured to the headboard of the bed with the red and green restraints. Hardesty was under him, stretched out on his back, his arms embracing Jan's chest, his fingers gently pulling on the rings in Jan's nipples even as the older man slept—and lightly snored. Hardesty's cock was flaccid, but it was still inside Jan's channel, long and thick enough to maintain purchase there without becoming dislodged.

Hardesty was slowly awakening, though. Jan could feel that in the increased strength of the pull on his nipple rings, which made him want to cry out and moan at the pain-pleasure of it through the confining ball gag still in his mouth. And he could feel it in the hardening of the cock inside him. Hardesty stirred enough for Jan to know he was awake—and that the man was going to fuck him again with renewed energy. Hardesty widened the stance of his legs under Jan's, thus spreading and lifting Jan's legs. Jan did cry out through the gag and clinch down on it with his teeth, as Hardesty set his pelvis in motion, thrusting deep again. Thrusting faster and faster, until both men collapsed, as Hardesty shot another load.

Neither man had time to recover before there was a rap on the door. Without being answered, the door opened and Justine was filling up the space inside the door frame. He didn't look pleased.

"You are needed downstairs, Hardesty," he said, with a disapproving scowl on his face. "There's a police detective who says he needs to take you away. He's outside on the doorstep. I didn't let him in. It's still snowing."

"Shit," Hardesty said, reaching up to undo the restraints on Jan's wrists. "It's Christmas. I was just beginning to enjoy my present." The reprove that someone who wasn't privy to the brothel's existence and secrets might know Hardesty was here was clear in Justine's demeanor.

The ball gag and wrists restraints off, Jan moaned. It was a satisfied moan, though.

Hardesty sat up and shuffled down to the foot of the bed on his bare buttocks, having gently rolled Jan off to the side. But once there, his hand brushed on the string of graduated balls he'd brought. They were in two alternating shiny colors—red and green.

"No, dammit," he said. "It's Christmas and I haven't used all of my presents yet. Tell the guy on the stoop to give you an address and I'll turn myself in there in an hour or so. Don't want him getting cold on your doorstep waiting for me to shower and dress."

"I don't want a cop standing on my doorstep at all," Justine hissed. He turned and left, slamming the door behind him. It was enough to establish that Justine wasn't pleased. He wouldn't go further with Hardesty, though. For some other man, it might mean banishment, but not for a man like Hardesty.

Taking the string of graduated balls in his hand, Hardesty moved back up the bed. Jan whimpered as Hardesty moved up to him, but he made no move to get off the bed or resist in any other way. Hardesty pulled two fluffy pillows from below the headboard, moved the slim, boyish figure of Jan onto his back, his pelvis raised on the pillows, and, sitting up beside the young man's right side, he grasped Jan's right leg. The older man hooked the trembling rent-boy's ankle on his shoulder.

Jan raised, spread, and bent the other leg, placing his left foot flat on the surface of the bed. Knowing what was to come, he rolled his pelvis up and emitted a deep moan.

Hardesty ran his left hand into the strawberry curls on the back of Jan's head. Jan winced, as Hardesty gripped his hair hard and held his head flat on the bed. Hovering over Jan's face with his own, Hardesty locked his gray eyes onto Jan's baby blues. He took in the slight fear and aroused anticipation in the young man's eyes—and watched as the expression turned to slightly more fear, pain blending into pleasure, and slitted lust as, with his right hand, Hardesty pressed the first of the graduated balls into Jan's ass.

Jan gasped, indicated an inclination to struggle, but settling down as he realized that struggle against such as Hardesty was useless, and whimpered as the second, larger ball, went in. He was panting heavily, their eyes locked, Hardesty's mouth set in a small, slightly cruel smile as the third, larger ball went in. Then the fourth.

"Merry Christmas to me," Hardesty murmured as Jan emitted a deep moan.

Jan was stroking his own cock with his left hand. His right hand was trapped behind Hardesty's back, where the younger man clutched at one of the older man's butt cheeks. He dug his nails into the cheek each time a ball was pressed inside him, sending the earlier balls deeper up his channel, but Hardesty just laughed. The rent-boy periodically took his hand off his own cock to brush against Hardesty's. The older man was rock hard again. Jan knew that it wouldn't be anywhere near just an hour before Hardesty was anywhere else. He knew Hardesty would fuck him again—maybe with the balls still inside him. The male whore trembled and whimpered at the thought, but it made him go harder still under the stroking of his hand. Whatever Hardesty did to him, that was all right with Jan. The rent-boy trusted Hardesty not to take it over the edge.

Jan yelped as the balls were pulled out of his ass in one quick jerk. Hardesty rolled over on top of him and entered, entered, entered him. He immediately began to pump, hard and deep. Jan turned his head to the side, his mouth slack, his eyes flashing, loving each killing stroke of Hardesty's cock as Hardesty lowered his face to Jan's chest, took a nipple ring between his teeth, and pulled on it. Jan winced and emitted a little yelp, which Hardesty marked with a cruel thrust of his hips.

The pleasure flowed over Jan through the pain—almost because of the pain and the total taking of the sex. He remembered now why whenever Hardesty showed up here he wanted to be the one chosen. Jan was a whore. Not yet twenty-one, he already felt used up and callous toward what had once been so arousing and fulfilling for him—the delicious, illicit thrill of being fucked in the backseat of a Ford by a coach or his best friend's father when he already was out past curfew. He sometimes lay under three men a day now, in a luxuriously appointed room, by men of power and prestige who Jan could pick out in the pages of the Washington Post. Justine's was a first-class, full-service brothel. But it was nearly all impersonal now. Once sex had been very important to him. It's why he'd been sucked into this business, what had brought him to Justine and the male brothel in Kalomara. But most of them had become just johns to him—dicks for him to sheath for a half hour. Hardesty was different. With Hardesty, he still remembered why he liked to be fucked. Hardesty fucked him totally. He made Jan feel the fuck—made him remember how it felt to be totally fucked. Made him feel alive while he was killing him.