Retribution Ch. 3

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Tom tells his side of the story.
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Part 3 of the 4 part series

Updated 10/20/2022
Created 08/24/2002
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Retribution Author’s Note: This is chapter three of a four-chapter original work of fiction. Some of the locations are authentic, but none of the names and events is real.

When we departed Chapter Two Maddy and Roger were just getting ready for their first hairless fuck.

Chapter Three

Jake and Bill had been friends since childhood. They played sports, hunted and fished, worked together at the same factory, acted as each other’s best man, and they shared everything including political views, religious perspectives, and they had fucked each wives and offspring as the children came of age. In reality they had a multi-family incestuous group marriage except they lived in separate homes; of course the houses were next door to each other because they didn’t want to upset their parents or arouse suspicion among the neighbors. They had shared everything from early in their lives, and now they had to share something else; something unpleasant.

Tom was Bill and Gail’s oldest child, Jake and Tanya’s godchild, and something was wrong. When he came home from college after his freshman year (two years past) his entire personality had changed; it had changed in the short period between Easter and finals. Someone or something had dramatically altered Tom’s outlook on life. From a happy, caring, extroverted young man he had changed to a sullen, mean to the point of cruelty, introverted asshole. Tom was now a person who would have made Mr. Scrooge proud; a person from whom no happiness escaped.

For two years, from the day of his return from school until roughly six weeks ago he had given no indication of why the huge change in his life. He just moved straight ahead as if everything was normal, but it wasn’t normal, and no amount of pretending could change that fact. The first chink in the wall of ice Tom built around himself occurred when Jake and Bill took him on a weeklong fishing trip. An unplanned part of the trip was the opportunity to listen as Tom talked in his sleep. Tom’s nighttime ramblings covered a gamut of emotions from happy to sad, and included some very worrisome episodes of total fear; complete and total fear always associated with the name Robert Bushman.

Slowly, over the next few weeks, the adults were able to put just enough information together to understand Tom had gone to an off campus meeting on April 15, 2000 (Tax Day) hosted by Bushman Ministries. From that time to this he was a changed man with no conscious memory of what happened.

At the lake cabin the phone rang; “Mr. Adams? My name is Roger Green. I’m a freelance writer and reporter working out of Washington. Mr. Adams I’ve received information from a reliable source that three days ago a telephone call was placed from your number to the television program “The American Right;” a call, that to my great delight and pleasure very much upset the guest Rev. Robert Bushman. ----- Mr. Adams is my information correct?”

“What if it is, why should I talk with you about it?”

“There’s no reason you should other than I don’t care for Bushman, and I’m always looking for a story to put him in his place. I will say this though; Bushman is a very powerful individual. He’s not someone you want to anger without considerable backup. My associates were very lucky to access your phone information. If we can do it so can Bushman. Right now the path that led me to you is blocked, but at best it is temporary. I don’t know how long the block will hold if Bushman wants to find you.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No sir. I didn’t mean it to sound that way; you do as you please without regard to me. We put a block in place that will last as long as it lasts. I’m just saying it might be a good idea to cover your ass, so to speak; Mr. Adams would you be willing to meet with me and my associate Maddy Davies?” Jake agreed.

The meeting was set for 4:30 that afternoon at Jones’ Catfish Parlor. Maddy and Roger knew they’d arrived first because there were no other cars around. They entered and sat in a very large circular booth near the back. Maddy sat with her back to the entrance so Roger could monitor the door.

“May I help you?” a tall, busty, bleach blond waitress with the name Marla on her tag asked.

“We’re expecting some other folks shortly. I’ll have some coffee; how about you Maddy?”

Marla departed, and returned shortly with two large cups of steaming coffee and all the trimmings. The coffee was three things; very potent, very hot, and very tasty. “Marla, when the rest of our party arrives would you please bring coffee for them also? Thanks.”

Jake, Tanya, Bill, and Gail arrived a few minutes later. Roger rose from the booth; “Are you Mr. Adams? We have the booth in the back would you please join us.” Introductions were made, coffee was brought, and then many questions were asked and answered in group fashion; peeling off the layers, and getting to the fact they knew very little. Despite the limited knowledge, the discussion continued through dinner, and then was adjourned to the lake cabin.

As they arrived, and Roger the setting he whispered to Maddy; “This is just beautiful. I might go broke with a place like this as I sure wouldn’t want to go into the city to work.” Maddy agreed. During their brief tour Maddy saw the computer center and asked if she could check her e-mail. Bill told them it was a very limited system, but she was welcome to try. No one had told them the qualification of the lady at the computer; she was simply introduced as Maddy, Roger’s associate.

Bill was correct when he said limited, but Maddy’s expertise shone, and she was quickly online to her company office. Through a real-time Internet exchange that reasonably precluded a trace to her present site, Maddy began to hack her way into the files of Bushman Ministries. “What’s she doing now?” asked Jake.

“My guess is poking her nose in where it doesn’t belong, or at least isn’t wanted. I didn’t tell you when I introduced her, but Maddy is a computer genius. It was because of her I was able to find you.”

Maddy turned away from the screen and waved; “Roger, come here a moment please.”

“Yes, what you got?”

“I’ve located Bushman’s schedules for everyday of the past two decades; everyday except 10 thru 20 April 2000. If I didn’t know better I might think something was not right in Whoooville.”

Just then two totally naked, very sloshed, as in drunk, young people came bounding through the door. They didn’t see Maddy and Roger in the corner so began to act in their normal fashion. The girl led the way addressing each adult by name, placing a passionate kiss on their mouths, and then groping their genitals. A very interesting point was the girl addressed Jake and Tanya by their given names, but Bill and Gail she called Mom and Dad as did the young man who followed her. Toni and Tom had arrived on scene, and in the flash of a moment had revealed the family secret to two complete strangers; a reporter and a computer genius.

Gail and Tanya both looked at Maddy and Greg as if begging them to say nothing. “Don’t worry ladies. Your family secrets are safe with us”

Maddy poked Roger in the ribs and whispered; “That’s Tom, the one with the problems isn’t? If it is he looks pretty normal and happy right now.”

“I was noticing that also. Let me check with Bill. I’ll be right back.”

“Bill, is this mood normal for Tom?”

“It was until two years ago. He use to have a few, get happy, and talk your head off.”

“You think that might happen now?” Roger asked as he handed Bill a six-pack of Buds.

Over the next hour Maddy and Roger observed a very interesting family interaction. They were there, but nobody seemed to notice as the adults acted quickly to take advantage of Tom’s condition. They removed their clothes, and gathered around him as he sat by the fireplace where Bill had started a small, but comforting fire. When Tom asked for something to drink it was provided. If he wanted a feel it was given freely. At last he appeared to feel relaxed and safe. It was then he began to talk, and when he started to talk we all listened attentively; all except Jake who had taken Toni to the back room to keep her occupied and quite; in other words fuck her until she passed out.

Tom rambled for a long time, but with some gentle questions from Bill and Gail he began to talk of the events around April 15, 2000. In the rambling manner and slightly slurred voice of a person who has drank too much, Tom told his story; “You know I used to act this way all the time. At college we got drunk every weekend and sometimes during the week, but I’ll never do it at school again.”

“Why not get drunk at school?” Bill gently prodded.

“Too dangerous, Dad! Did you know getting drunk at school can get you raped and killed? That’s right, happened to three of friends of mine a couple of years ago.”

“Wow, it was wild in my days, but KILLED? Are you sure about that?” Gail asked disbelievingly.

“Yea Mom, I’m sure. I saw it happen. I may be drunk, but I’ll never forget that night …”

My friends, Randy Stock, Paul Smith, Janice Williams, and I, to fulfill a community service requirement at school, volunteered to help at a soup kitchen sponsored by the Bushman Ministry’s. It was unexpected, but Robert Bushman, with the ministry’s board of directors made an appearance just after four that afternoon. What was even more surprising was they invited all the staff and volunteers to an outdoor burger-broil that evening. Not being people to turn down free food, we all attended.

It was a good time with about twenty-five volunteers, some staff from the kitchen, and off to the side was Bushman with five or six associates. The only ones I recognized were the television guy Andrew Whittaker, and those two way-to-the-right Sunday evangelists William Powers and Jerome Watkins. The others I didn’t know. We were all having an okay time, but it got better when we saw Bushman down a can of Foster’s; the entire character of the party changed from food to beer.

I don’t remember how many I drank, but it was quite a few, and then I remember nothing. The first time I woke up I was lying behind some bushes away from the fire, and most of the people had departed. The only ones remaining that I saw were Randy, Paul, Janice, the Bushman group, and two very large men I hadn’t seen before. All of them were gathered around the fire talking.

The next time I awoke the situation was different. My friends, who appeared to have passed out, were naked, and tied over a large log. Randy and Paul were face down with their butts upward, while Janice was bent backward with her legs spread very wide. If that wasn’t strange enough, Bushman and the old guys were also naked with yellow and red stripes painted down their arms and legs, and they all had hard-ons. It was like a strange Viagra rite as they danced around the fire waving their erect dicks in the air.

The two big guys, also naked, walked into my field of vision carrying buckets full of water they splashed on my friends returning them to consciousness. The spewed and sputtered, and when Janice realized her position it became very loud with her screams. Randy and Paul joined her until none of them could scream anymore. It was only then that Bushman approached; “The three of you are very fortunate. We have chosen you as the vehicles we will use to praise God. You will look back on this day with fond and pleasurable memories. As you can see there is nothing within in your power to change your fate. Relax; absorb the essences of our religious beings.”

One by one my friends were raped again, and again, and then again. The only lubrication any of them had on their holes was blood that flowed from their first fuck. The very proper religious freaks plugged their chemically erected members into one hole then another. Janice had it the worse, because of the way she was tied the men had access to either of her holes, and they filled both of them repeatedly. Not only were the older guys involved, but the two big studs also participated. When I say big studs I am referring to their cocks. They each had to be at least a foot long, and as big around as my wrist. Each time one of them entered my friends there was renewed attempts at screaming, but all that emerged was a dull, raspy, croak.

How long this took I don’t know. It seemed like hours, but it might have been only minutes. Janice, Paul, and Randy were fucked until they were limp rags, and I don’t think any of them ever had one bit of pleasure from it. That’s a shame; because of all the people I know at college they were the most likely to have willingly fucked with those men through the night. What makes it worse is I did experience pleasure. I couldn’t help it. All the fucking made me hard and I beat off a few times. It’s not like I was big enough or had enough courage to make them stop, or to even run away. Had they known I was there they would have stretched me across a log.

After several rounds of fucks, everyone was exhausted; everyone except Randy, Paul, and Janice. They were beyond exhaustion; they were dead. I guess they died from drugs or something. Let’s face it, fucking, even as emotionally and physically traumatic as they experienced would not have kill them almost simultaneously.

“Are they done?” One of the old guys asked. Just to be sure he tested the pulse of each, and to make doubly sure he stuck a very large needle into each body several times. It seemed he received as much pleasure via the needle as he did from his puny prick; now that his erection had subsided he was the owner of a puny prick. “No pulse and no reaction to pain. They’re dead.”

The two big men untied the bodies, and did the most horrible thing I have ever seen. They used very sharp knives to dismember my friends, put the parts in large garbage bags, and then after thoroughly cleaning the area everyone departed.

I didn’t know what to do. I was hung over, sick from my head throbbing and from what I had witnessed, and I was extremely scared. First I thought to tell the police, but no one would ever believe me against the word of Robert Bushman. The more I thought about it there was nothing I could do except keep my mouth shut. My plan was to say nothing until an investigation began into the disappearance of my friends. That investigation never happened, because Randy, Paul, and Janice all who lived out of state, withdrew from school the next day, and were seen driving away from campus together in Paul’s van.

The story was out, and Tom relaxed into the oblivion of alcohol. Roger addressed everyone; “That’s almost unbelievable; what a terrible load of shit, shitty shit, he’s been carrying around! It is either completely true, or he has an exceptionally vivid imagination. I tend to believe the former, but let’s find out which. Maddy, would you please check to see what you can find on those three kids. Folks, for right now there’s nothing you can do except take care of each other. Give us a little time, and in the morning we will see where we are.

Maddy got online and dually accessed her computers at home and work. In a matter of hours she knew everything there was to know about Roger, Paul, and Janice. The significant points of interest included their sudden withdrawal from a college in which they were each B+ students, and the fact they all died in Kansas two days later when the van they were driving collided with an 18-wheeler carrying gasoline, exploded, and the bodies were burned beyond recognition; identifications were made from dental records.

After a couple hours of sleep everyone except Tom and Toni met in the living room. Gail began; “The kids are still out of it. What can you tell us?”

Everyone was stunned when Roger related the information Maddy had uncovered. The information did not prove Tom’s story, but it did mesh with, and gave a great amount of support to his allegations. Roger continued; “I’ve thought about our situation quite a bit this morning. We have Tom’s story in which he says upfront he was drunk; difficult to imagine the police taking him seriously particularly two years after the incident. Secondly; in view of your family’s organization and sexual practices are you willing to expose yourselves to the Righteous Right of America, and another group just as vicious; the press? You are a band of adults that indulges in multi-partner incestuous group sex. I don’t see any hope of publicly challenging Bushman in the face of that. The question remains, if you take Tom’s story at face value what do you want to do; let it drop or attack Bushman?”

There was careful thought by everyone, and then some whispering between Jake, Tanya, Bill, and Gail. As for Maddy and Roger they knew what they wanted to do, but would take their lead from the other adults. At last Bill spoke for the group; “We want to get Bushman and his bunch, but we need to hear from someone else. Tom has an important voice in this, so we think he has the right to be part of the decision.” With that said, there was no choice but for everyone to settle down to await the hangover kids.

In Washington, at the Watergate, Bushman, Whittaker, plus Jerry Feltwell, and Jim Bakeoff met over breakfast to discuss the developments. Bakeoff, his mouth spitting eggs, spoke with alarm; “What do you mean someone knows?”

“Exactly that” Whittaker responded. “Either it was a very lucky guess, or someone knows about the party on April 15th. The caller was very specific about the date. Unfortunately, there’s no reference in the station’s computer system that allows us to trace back the call. Someone got into the system and removed that and the earlier call about anal sex. We have no way to pursue.”

“Gentlemen” Bushman interjected; “the question is what do we do now. I don’t see that we have any choice except to wait for the next contact. In the mean time I have arranged a little morning entertainment for us.”

Bushman pushed a button under the table and a sliding panel door opened to reveal a large room with various structures and apparatus to aid dominant sex. In the middle of the room were two naked men and women, each wearing a full-head mask, and bound over chair ottomans in such a manner as to expose their genitals and anal openings. These people were not resisting their bonds, and there was a copious amount of a clear jelly around each nether body entry point.

“These people don’t know where they are, but they can hear. I recommend you say nothing, but do enjoy the morning brunch. Jim, I think it’s your turn for first choice.” Bakeoff removed his clothes then moved to investigate and evaluate the stock on show. Into each one’s ass he thrust a finger to test for tightness. His choice was woman number two. After Bakeoff the others, in a predetermined sequence, selected their choice, and when everyone was ready they in unison pushed their erect and throbbing members into a holes of their choosing.

With chemically induced erections they were able to insert and hammer into each prisoner’s orifices. So long did they pummel that blood began to show around a couple of the anal rings. It was the sight of blood that caused each of the fine, upstanding gentlemen to reach orgasm, and to squirt their conservative juices into whichever hole they were in at the moment.

Shortly after noon, Tom, naked and with his hands holding his head, wandered into the kitchen looking for a glass of water. What he found were two vaguely familiar people, also naked, involved in a passionate fuck on the kitchen table. As he watched, and despite his throbbing head, another part of his anatomy began to throb. The couple was immersed in the passion of their fuck and at first did not notice his presence, but their actions stirred within him a basic need. His right hand grasped the shaft of his tool and began to stoke back and forth in time with the strokes of the man’s cock into the woman’s pussy. Every time the man shoved into the woman Tom’s hand stroked out along the hard shaft toward his dick-head.

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