The Good Neighbors Ch. 21 - FINAL

Tommy looked between the two splayed strangers in front of him.

Beads of sweat were dotted down the man's back. The hairs of his ass were wet with it. He was laid on the bench, facing away from the crowd, with his head bound in a black leather sack. His lips were puckered out, gasping for air through the holes of a ball gag. The bench ended at the man's belly, leaving his half-swollen cock dangling from the end. His knees were bent forward, tied against his elbows, and strapped down to the floor.

Tommy shifted his gaze over at the woman. She was bound just as tight, but she was on her back. Her hairy cunt glistened, dripping with animal need. It seeped down the cheeks of her wide ass and left droplets against the floor.

Toys were lying on a shelf beside the wall, with vibrators of every size. He could guess that someone had been teasing these poor souls for a while. God knows how long they'd been at it for.

The woman's face was also bagged, but she had a nose out to breathe from, and she had no gag in her mouth. Her lips hung open, bright red and ready to be used.

Her arms were bound beneath the bench. Her legs were each tied in a way to keep them open and pried back. Her doughy tits heaved with every breath. The nipples were tight, pink knobs.

"He's never had a man in his ass before," someone called out into his ear.

Tommy nodded, glancing between them again.

"She's had plenty," someone laughed.

"Maybe she'll like hearing someone turn her husband into a little bitch," Tommy said.

He didn't speak loudly, but no one missed a word of it all the same.

The man on the bench squirmed wildly. The woman beside him twisted just as hard, like she was trying to peek despite the bag on her face.

Tommy grabbed the meat of the man's hairy ass with both hands and squeezed it tight. The stranger's legs bobbed in the air, nervously trying to tap against the ground. A low, pitiful moan wailed out through the ball gag.

Pre-cum seeped out of Tommy's cock from the sound of it.

There was lube on the shelf. Tommy didn't even need to reach for it. Someone pressed it into his hands the moment he turned toward it.

The crowd went silent as he poured it onto the man's ass, letting the thick fluid trickle its way down through the crack.

Even the crowd watching from the stairs could hear the man's squeals through the gag now.

Tommy stroked the head of his cock between the man's cheeks, wetting it in the sweat and lube. The man gave a great shake of his entire body as Tommy found the hole. He swirled around the rim of it, savoring the soft resistance of it, watching the folds of skin stretch.

The boy pulled back his hand and cracked it against the meat of the man's ass. He pressed himself inside.

The man on the bench gave an ear-splitting squeal. The legs kicked frantically, uselessly. A dozen hands found their way onto Tommy's back, and pressed him further in.

Camera flashes erupted around him. The screams of the crowd were deafening. Tommy hardly noticed it.

The man's squeal turned to a howl as his legs tapped harder against their straps. The stretch of the rope was audible as he pulled at it.

He was every bit as tight as promised.

Tommy's hands slipped against the stranger's sweat-slicked back. The bag on the man's head had a handle on it. Tommy gripped that instead, and rode him harder, letting the sound of slapping meat drown out the wails and the cheers.

The man's hairy ass gripped the length of him, trying to push him out, but only managing to stroke Tommy's cock tighter. He was lost in everything but that grip as he slid in and out. The feeling of the man's damp fur against his body, the weight of the man's fat-padded muscle, the warmth of his insides... Tommy tipped toward the edge.

The man gripped Tommy hard, his howls turning into a sharp scream.

Tommy blinked his eyes open as the man convulsed around him. He heard the wet jets of spray hitting against the floorboards. The stranger had blown his load.

Tommy nearly doubled over, laughing along with the crowd.

"I think he likes it!" someone called out.

"Your husband's a little faggot, girly!" another cried. "He likes that asshole bred!"

Tommy cracked his hand against the man's ass. "I come first," he shouted playfully. "Hear me?"

The man in the mask sagged lifelessly. Tommy sighed as the man's grip on him loosened. He gave the crowd a dramatic shrug. That certainly hadn't gone as expected.

The man's legs did another dance against the ropes as Tommy slipped out of him. He strode over to the shelf of goodies, looking around for something he had spotted earlier.

A hooked black vibrator came back with him. He oiled it down and slipped it all the way up the man's ass, right to the hilt, in one push.

"That goes on Low until I turn it off," Tommy told everyone.

"Now I'm going to use your wife like a whore."

The crowd's cheer hit him like a wave. The flash of cameras flooded the room again.

He waved them all off and grabbed another toy. It was short and stubby. It gave a low rumble as he flicked the switch in his hand.

Now it was the girl's turn to thrash against her restraints.

Tommy eased himself between her legs, teasing her with a stroke of his cock down her thighs. He could see the tan lines of her that ended high on her legs. She wasn't fat, but she was out of shape. The smell of her made it clear she was in desperate need. All of it made his cock harder.

"I'm going to taste her asshole," Tommy told the crowd.

He knelt slowly, brushing his mouth against the inside of her thighs, huffing and biting as he eased himself into place. Her ass hopped against the bench as she tried to avoid it.

Tommy gripped her legs hard and held her still. He leaned his face in, pressed his lips against her small hole, and forced his tongue inside.

It took a moment to hear her voice over the crowd. He wondered how long she had been calling out. She screamed "No!"

He turned the toy up higher and pressed it between the lips of her drooling cunt. After a moment, she rubbed herself against it like an animal.

It didn't take long. He buried his tongue in as far he could go, slipping it in and out of the tight muscle, stroking around the rim of her. Her body convulsed, squeezing his tongue out of her as she shook against the ropes.

Tommy forced his tongue back inside, digging in as slowly and steadily as before.

He couldn't tell if she came again, or if she'd never stopped. Her skin was beet-red and shaking weakly by the time the battery in the toy finally died.

He forgot all about the crowd. He forgot about the group. He forgot about needing to leave.

They had given him bodies to play with. He needed them. He needed to use and dominate and degrade them. He needed to fuck them until they were broken.

How could he have ever thought that he didn't belong?

He slipped his balls into the woman's mouth, and let her tongue at them greedily. He pawed at her pale, sagging tits. He licked and bit at them like an animal, dripping a trail of pre-cum across her shoulders as he worked.

When he was ready, he walked back between her legs, leaned forward, and climbed on top of her. He clawed at her tits and buried his face buried between them.

Without trying, his cock slid inside the warm, furry lips of her. He glided in effortlessly. She was warm, and soft, and comforting.

She moaned, and her husband called out just the same. Tommy pressed his lips against her mouth to shut her up. Their tongues twisted together as Tommy's hips beat faster. He melted against the soft curves of her body, and the warmth of her wet, hairy cunt.

Tommy pressed his mouth harder against hers until their teeth clacked together. His scream poured out into her as she licked his tongue. She rode against him with the little leeway she had, milking every last drop of seed out of him, letting him bury himself into her body, to melt inside of it.

The boy pulled away anyway, unable to hold back, and let out a deafening scream across the room.

His hips kept pumping. He worked faster, until his cum spilled out in wet, foaming loads. He grabbed at her ankles, crushing them between his fingers as he drove in harder than ever, burying himself in deeper, making her grunt with every harsh slap.

He squeezed at her legs, tighter and tighter and tighter, screaming as he drove in harder. His whole body went mad with the need to break her open.

After a long while, he staggered backward, panting for air, hardly able to stand upright. His glazed eyes roamed back and forth between the couple, and he basked in his glorious work.

White spunk bubbled out from between the girl's legs as she panted and heaved. The man's limp cock dribbled onto the floor in a constant stream. He shook as the rod in his ass rumbled away. Both of them had patches of red against their skin that were so dark they were nearly purple. They were dotted in sweat and goosebumps from head to toe. Each of them sounded like they were moaning from the bottom of their souls.

The party guests flooded past him, eager to take his place. The bodies strapped to the benches quickly vanished beneath the crowd. There was a wave of discarded clothes and a deafening roar of excitement.

Tommy watched the backs of them all, angling his head to see if he could catch a glimpse of the action. When he couldn't, he forced himself to take a step away. He forced himself to take another. Each one was as hard as the last.

As he hit the bottom of the stairs, Tommy grabbed clothes from the ground. He didn't stop to worry if they were his or not as he started to pull them on.

"You did well," Mrs. Hastings whispered into his ear.

He nearly jumped. He hadn't seen her there behind him. She slipped something into his hands before he could think of anything to say to her. It took a moment to remember what it was, or what he had come there for.

Mrs. Hastings went back to watching the action from her phone.

Tommy turned away quickly, pulling a shirt over his head as he headed back up the stairs, through the crowd of people that still lined the way. Everyone was red-faced and leering at him with drunken delight. He ignored them all, pushing his way toward the front door, heading toward home.

He shouldered his way into his bedroom and hit the bed at full force, sprawling across the sheets sideways, eager to black out.

After some time had passed, he realized he had left his socks somewhere in the basement. He blinked in the dark for what felt like hours.

It was a long while before he remembered to check the envelope Mrs. Hastings had slipped him. He flicked through it with one eyelid open. There was no eight thousand, though. It was easily ten or eleven. He'd count it against when he was sober.

Tommy wriggled out of his shorts and climbed fully onto the bed. He could still smell those two on him. His cock swelled to full length again in a heartbeat.

They were still there, he realized, bound and gagged. He could walk back over there in half a minute.

It was his party, after all. They would let him take another turn.

He could leave that man's asshole dripping his cum, too. It was only fair.

Tommy could picture his thick white spunk running a trail down through the man's hairy ass crack, dripping down to the man's heavy sack, and spilling to the ground.

Tommy could have his turn, and he could ram a toy up the wife's ass, too. He could picture her body now. The crowd was still using her, and emptying their loads again and again across her pale skin. She'd be soaked by now, from head to toe. He could walk right over and lick her clean. They would cheer for every stroke of his tongue.

He slipped off the edge of the bed, landing on his feet. The world swayed dangerously again. He took a careful step toward the door, twisted, and collapsed back onto the sheets.

He opted for his hand instead, pumping against his lap as he laid half-against the mattress. He blew his load in a few strokes, and let it spray against the carpet. He slumped down to the floor, and was asleep a moment later.

He shot bolt-upright again, into a room flooded with light, feeling just as nauseous as before.

Tommy blinked around the room, finally landing his attention on the envelope of cash. After counting it again, and feeling no less certain about his math, he hobbled into the shower and scraped himself clean.

All of his good clothes were already packed, so he re-dressed in what he had instead. It definitely wasn't his clothes. He slipped the money in his pocket, and headed out into the hall.

His dad was there at the table, crouching over to read the morning paper. The clock on the wall showed it was already past noon.

"Heading out?" his father whispered, not bothering to look up.

Tommy nodded, knowing it wouldn't be seen. "I stayed another night."

"Okay," his dad said, sinking back beneath the paper. "Call us."

"Uh-huh."

Tommy pushed onward. He was halfway down the driveway when his mother appeared at the door, pulling her robe tighter.

"I'm up!" she called over, shielding her eyes from the light as she gave a wave. "Are you going?"

Reluctantly, and with a great sigh, he headed back over and nodded. "I'll call you when I get there, Mom."

"Alright," she said, nodding at him. She pulled him into a long hug, and he did his best to avoid her eyes.

He couldn't help them. He couldn't warn them about their new friends. There was nothing he could do but hope that they would fare better than he had.

Everyone else that the Hastings and their group had set their eye on had fallen into the trap. Marriages were ruined, and people were broken. They were a natural disaster, tearing their way through the suburbs.

His parents would have to be stronger than that. And they would have to go through it on their own.

As he stepped away, he spotted the marks.

First, he noticed the one foot, and then the other. It was like a discoloration, or a bruise. He started to ask her about it.

Tommy opened his mouth. The words were nearly out. But then they were gone.

All of it was gone. In every direction his mind seemed to turn, it was like heavy iron gates crashing down, blocking him off. Everywhere he turned, his mind went suddenly blank, repelling him away. Some thought he couldn't quite touch was swallowed deeper and deeper down inside of him.

Tommy stumbled away from her, his eyes blank, his mouth slack. He couldn't

make himself speak. He shook his head to clear it, and shook it again harder, but nothing seemed to come. And she hardly seemed to notice. She had a dreamy kind of smile as she gazed off toward the Hasting's home with bloodshot eyes.

Tommy shook his head more violently and dashed back toward the car. After a few minutes, he turned the keys and rolled out of the driveway.

Iron gates crashed down. His heart beat in his throat. He couldn't hold a thought. It felt like drowning.

He forced his foot onto the peddle and the car lurched forward faster. It became easier from there.

All he had to do was go forward.

Halfway down the street, he came to a dead stop. His fingers scrambled for his phone. Tommy found the address book and went down the list blocking every number. Then he deleted every message.

He drove on, puttering along at twenty under the speed limit, oblivious to the honks and middle fingers, driving until he found himself at the edge of town.

He kept going forward, past the edge of the state. He went on until he hit the coast, then he turned and followed it upward. All the while, mile after mile, heavy iron gates crashed down before him.

But they were slowing as whatever horrible thought was buried deeper and deeper. He drove on, staring ahead in blank silence, his knuckles white against the wheel.

---

When asked, years later, why he never went home, Tommy could say honestly that he didn't know.

His parents and he had simply lost touch. Life can be like that sometimes, once a kid grows up. Everyone had their own life to live. It was best not to dwell on these things.

They had been fine parents, though He had been happy. They had grown up in a nice little town, with good people, and good neighbors.

It had all been rather quaint.

Just, sometimes, when he tried to think back to all those good people, and that nice little town, his hands would begin to shake. His foot would tap against the ground nervously.

Sometimes they would shake and tap when he wasn't thinking of anything at all.

But it was a good life. He was happy. And it was best not to dwell on these things.