Liam's Mistake, Part 8: Hungover

Right, part 8. Enjoy.

“That,” I said to Eric, “escalated quickly. I mean that really got out of hand fast.”
“It jumped a notch,” he agreed.
“It did, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, I stabbed a man in the heart.”
“Wait... what?” I said, looking at Eric in surprise. “Things had gotten out of hand, but not that out of hand... right?  We didn’t actually... ritually sacrifice an initiate... did we?
“Yeah,” he continued, “there were horses, and a man on fire, and I killed a guy with a trident.”

I looked at Eric strangely.  “Um... I don’t know what you were on, or what you might be on right now, but you do know that none of that happened, right?”

“Oh, what?” He said in mock confusion, “I thought we were quoting lines from Anchorman.”

We were seated in Eric’s father’s home office. Our large armchairs were pointed at the bay windows, bathing in the light from the mid-morning sun. The office, after last night’s festivities, had been returned as much as possible to its previous layout, though it probably wouldn’t ever be clean again until someone doused it with bleach and then set it on fire.  Out of our robes, we were once again dressed appropriately. And Eric was still wearing sunglasses.

“Why on earth would you think we were quoting Anchorman?”
“Well,” he replied, “One, it’s a good movie, two, that scene felt somewhat appropriate, considering last night, and what was the third one? Oh, yeah, you were quoting it line for line.”
“Huh,” I said, “Never seen it.”


Eric sighed loudly. That could only mean one thing.
“Even if I fucked a dozen different bitches this week, which come to think of it, isn’t a bad idea. I think I’ll make this the week of threesomes.” Ah, yes, one of Eric’s legendary rants had begun.  “Did you know that I know three different pairs of hot twins who I haven’t fucked yet? No joke. Anyways, even if I fucked all of them, I still won’t be able to erase what I saw last night. I almost never do drugs, but I might drop acid on the off chance that it will erase what I’ve seen.”
“Pretty sure it doesn’t work that way.”
“Oh well.  Ugh, finding a dozen horny chicks in one week. That’s gonna take some work. They probably won’t all be solid 10s, a few 9s might slip in, maybe even an 8.”
“That’s another thing, how does your rating system work? I’ve been trying to figure out if it’s a uniform distribution or a bell curve.  Like, does each number represent a percentile group of about 10? So, 10’s are hotter than 90% of the women out there, 9’s are hotter than 80% and so on? Or is it that 5 is the mean hotness, and then each increase by 1 is a standard deviation or some fraction of a standard deviation away from the mean?  Because, I don’t have the demographic information in front of me, but from our previous conversations, at this point I am decently sure that you’ve fucked more than 10% of the sexually active girls our age in a 20 mile radius, and I don’t see how that’s mathematically possible with all of them still being as hot as you claim.”
There was an awkward pause. Eric just looked at me. Or at least, turned his head in my direction. Fucking sunglasses. When was the last time I had seen his eyes?
“You know what? That was fucking disgusting last night. That was just... filthy and dirty and holy fuck... and if that’s the route we’re going down then I don’t like what’s happening to the Evocati, Jack.”
“You mean... the humiliation and degradation of impressionable 14 year old boys so that they can join an exclusive high school club, or the almost rite-like sexual abuse we put them through?”
“The gay stuff, Jack. I know you’re into that, but I don’t ever want to see another man’s junk again.  That’s something that should only be between a man and a woman.”
“For a second there, I was afraid that you had somehow grown a conscience, Eric. Pretty sure you’re just veering into homophobia at this point.”
“Go suck a dick.  Go suck a bag of dicks.”
“How does that even work? Do I, like, suck on a huge bag filled with dicks? Or do I just take one out at a time and suck them individually? The mechanics of that statement don’t really make sense.”
“Ugh...” Eric cradled his head in hands, “Get the hell out of here. I’ve got shit to do.”
“Yeah,” I said, heading for the door, “I hear that whores are expensive this time of year. Gotta beg for more dough from daddy?”
I walked off, proud of my parting shot.  I knew it would rankle him, though I was mildly disappointed that I didn’t get to hear him shout “I owe my father nothing” as I left.

I put my hand on the office door and then stopped. I was forgetting something.
“Any idea where Liam is?”
“Who?’
“The guest I brought with me.”
“Yeah, Brannon found your little whore curled up next to some blond boy on the east lawn early this morning. The blond boy went home with his friends.  Anyways, he tried to get rid of the other one, but he said that he drove here with you, and the only cars left are accounted for.  He’s sitting out on the porch. Pick him up on your way out.”

My knuckles curled tightly into a fist, my nails digging deeply into my palm.  I resisted the urge to punch the door, pushing it gently open with my fist.  What little bastard thought he had the right to what was mine?  I leave him alone for... well, actually for the entire night, but I leave him alone at the party and this is what happens? Some other boy seduces him?

I walked briskly down the hall and turned through the giant lobby.  Brannon wished me a good morning as he opened the front door for me, but I didn’t bother to reply. Some quiet part of me whispered that it was a mistake not to at least say hi to him.  He was a friend of Eric’s.  A friend? More like a lackey.  Eric’s ability to gather people around him was near magical.  I’ve stood on a golf course with him at 3 in the morning on a Tuesday, just talking, when he suggested that some weed would make the evening better. I demurred, insisting that I had none on me, as I never smoke.  He didn’t carry any on him either.  But one short phone call, and five minutes later, and three of his lackeys were there with us, passing around pre-rolled blunts.  I don’t think he even paid them. Brannon was not one of those lackeys, but he was a lackey. He came from the poor side of town, and was training hard every day, planning on enlisting the day he graduated high school.  Somehow, Eric had found him, had befriended him, and now, Brannon was the bouncer at every party I’ve seen Eric throw, and therefore, a good person to be on friendly terms with.  I reviewed all of this is in a moment, and half turned as I walked through the door, wishing him a good morning through gritted teeth. It’s never good to let others see me angry or reveal that my control might be slipping. Discipline, order, and control. I paused for a second on the front steps and breathed in heavily.  The circular drive was almost empty. My mustang was near the fountain, but besides that, there was no sign of the dozens of cars that had been here mere hours before.

    Liam was seated on the porch, cradling his head in his hands. He looked up at me expectantly, excited at first, but his face darkened when he saw mine.  “Get in the car.” I said simply.  No sense in causing a scene where people can see you, and no sense in doing something in anger which should be done in sober thought.

    I put on some gentle classical music as we drove away from the house.  At the first few notes from the harp, I felt some of my anger slip away.  By the time the woodwinds joined in, it was completely gone, and after the french horns began playing, it had been replaced with cold, steely determination.  “Who was the blond boy?” I asked, no emotion showing in my voice.

    He turned to face me.  “You mean Oskar?”  “Is that who you slept with last night?” Liam winced. Good.  It becomes him well to fear my wrath.  “I didn’t sleep with him!” he protested.  “I was informed that you were found cuddling together on the lawn this morning.”  “Well, yes, we spend the night cuddling and talking, but we didn’t do anything!”

    Well, that was news.  If I had been in his position, I probably would have abused the freedom I had and slept with the boy.  Granted, I also probably would have bent the boy over, spanked his fair skinned ass, and fucked him so hard he wouldn’t sit still for a week.  Somehow, I couldn’t imagine Liam doing that. Still... some things are better not forgotten.

    I smiled at Liam, stroking his dark hair behind his ear, though truth be told, that didn’t really do much. Spiky hair tends to return to its original orientation, and it didn’t soothe him much.  He was still shivering a bit in fear.  “It’s okay,” I said, “I forgive you.Though you will be punished when we get back.”

------------------------
    I stepped out of the car and stretched.  It was only around 11 in the morning, but I was exhausted.  Staying up all night sexually abusing freshman boys will do that.  I felt arms wrap around me from behind.  “Tired, master?” Liam asked, his head buried against the back of my shirt.  “A little bit,” I admitted.  “Then you should come to bed,” he leered, “with me.”

    “In a little bit, but first, let’s shower.”  We headed into the basement to Liam’s little cell, stripping off our clothes as we went. I piled them in my arms and dumped them on the floor of the former study/current dungeon.  “Go warm up the shower,” I called to him, “I need to grab some stuff first.”  I opened a couple drawers, grabbed what I needed, and dropped one of them on his bed before heading to the shower.

    He was already in the shower, and I paused for a few seconds to study him.  The water streaming down his body had plastered his usually spiky hair to his scalp, and run in little riverlets down his smooth, copper body.  Mostly smooth, I corrected myself, noticing the little tufts of black hair under his arms and above his cock. But besides that, and a couple stray hairs clinging to his legs, he was absolutely smooth.

    “Step out of the shower for a moment.”
    “But I just got in!”
    I gave him a look that brooked no argument and he stepped out of the shower grumbling.  I toweled him off quicly, concentrating under his arms and around his cock.  He looked warily at me when I pulled out the eletric razor. “Don’t worry, I’m just getting rid of some of the stuff that gets in the way.”

    I buzzed off his pubes and underarm hair and then went over them a second time with shaving cream and a safety razor, scraping away every stubborn little hair of his. I gave him a gentle push, causing him to step back into the shower.  I left the razors and shoving cream and something else in the sink before following him, helping him to rinse off the hairs and shaving cream and running my fingers along his now completely smooth skin.

    He leaned back against me as my hand found it’s way around his cock, feeling him slowly grow hard.  His head rested against my shoulder, and I whispered “do you like this?” as I gently nibbled his ear.  “Yes, master” he sighed. “Please, fuck me, let me cum.”  I spun him around and grabbed his wrists, pinning them together above his head.  With one hand, I held his wrists, with the other I reached down and stroked his now hard cock.

    “Let you cum?” I asked. “Aren’t I supposed to be punishing you?” He squirmed, “Well, yess...”  “And how does letting you cum punish you?” “Um... well...” “Maybe making you cum, over and over again without any choice would be a punishment... but that’s not letting you cum..”  He squirmed again, his eyes lidded with pleasure as I continued to stroke his hard cock. “I guess not...” he muttered.  I took my hand from his cock, still twitching and lurching. “awww...” he gasped, “please!”  “No!” I said, reaching into the sink and grabbing the handcuffs I had left there.  I cuffed one of his wrists, spun him around again, slipped the handcuffs through the shower handle attached to the wall and cuffed his other hand behind his back.  Now he was locked to the shower with his hands behind his back as I adjusted the showerhead so that no matter how much he squirmed, he would be unable to get out of its way.

    Then, as I stepped out of the shower, I grabbed the shower knob and turned it all the way to cold.  “Ahhhhh! Please, please, please let me out!” he shouted as I slowly dried myself.  When the shower had been hot and steamy, fog had condensed on the bathroom. But as the temperature slowly dropped, the water condensed and formed little streams, clearing the mirror.  Liam was still dancing around in the shower, trying unsuccessfully to dodge the freezing water as his cock grew soft and then started to retract.  By the time I had finished drying off, wandered to the bed, and returned, he was shivering.

    “Master, p-please t-t-turn off the water and let m-me out,” he begged, shivering.  Looking closely, I noticed his lips were turning blue. “I thought you wanted me to let you cum?” I teased as I dropped to my knees right outside the shower. “I-I don’t c-care. J-just let me out!”  “In that case, you should have no problem with this.” I took the ring of the CB-6000S and fit it around his balls and cock, then slid the cage over his freezing and shrunken penis, before finally slipping the lock through the pin and clicking it shut. “This,” I said as I turned off the water and unlocked his handcuffs, “should keep you from misbehaving.  It doubles both as your punishment and as a way to keep you horny. You may now thank me.”

    “Thank you, master.” He was still shivering as I dried him off, but he was no longer in danger of turning blue.  “Come on,” I said, “Let’s warm you up.”  I linked my fingers and picked him up, with his legs wrapped around my waist. As I carried him up the two flights of stairs to my room, he whispered in my ear “You’re warm, master.” “I know, I’m a living furnace.”  I dumped him in my  bed and crawled in next to him, pulling the sheets up around us.  He snuggled in close to my body for warmth, rubbing his cute little butt up against my hard cock as he did. “Someone’s still excited,” he giggled.  “Indeed I am, little one,” I whispered, as I nibbled his ear. I ran my hands along his still cool body, dragging my finger tips up along his side before lazily circling a nipple and then tweaking it. I slipped a leg between his two and pulled them apart as one of my hands played with his nipples while the other reached between his legs, running along the inside of his smooth thighs, before reaching up and cupping his balls, and the finally running along the smooth plastic cage that trapped his cock.  “Uhhhh...” he moaned as my groping fingers found his hole, running up and down it.  His eyes were tightly closed and a faint rosy blush crept into his copper cheeks.  I gave a quick spank to his ass to give his other cheeks a matching glow, and a droplet of sweat formed on his brow as his trapped cock twitched in his cage.

    “Please master,” he moaned, “let me out.”  “No.” I hissed as I slipped a lubed finger into his tight, tight hole. “This isn’t just my pleasure, it’s your punishment.”  He groaned as I slipped my finger in and out of his hole.  “Please, master,” he begged, “fuck me... fuck me hard.” I rolled him onto his back and hooked his legs over my shoulder as I lubed up my cock. Planting the thick head of my cock against his hole, I pushed slowly.  He grimaced as his tight hole stretched to accommodate my giant hammer, and panted as the head slipped through. “Oh god master... It feels so big...” he groaned.

    “It should,” I said, “otherwise, I wasted my time tightening you up in that shed.”  I drove my cock in slowly to the hilt, feeling him twitch and pant with every inch.  Once I was completely inside him, I leaned down and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around my neck and pulled my head down. “Fuck me.” he whispered intensely in my ear, “Fuck me hard.” And I did. I pounded in and out of him like a jack hammer trying to shatter concrete. I took his nipples in my mouth and sucked them, chewed them and licked them, listening to his pants and whimpers and screams of “god yes!” “harder” “faster” and “rougher.” I flipped him over onto his knees and pounded him with his ass in the air and his face buried in the pillow, mumbling incoherently and weeping into the pillow. I fell onto my back and pulled him on top of me, making him ride my dick as fast and hard as he dared.  And when we finished, I threw him on the bed, and stood on my  knees above him, shooting string after string of cum onto  his sweaty, horny body before collapsing exhausted next to him.

    “Ugh...” he muttered, “I can barely move, but I’m still so horny.” It was true.  My cock was still hard, but was beginning to slowly deflate.  His was still trying to escape its prison, straining against the plastic cage that surrounded it.  I pulled his body up against mine and spooned him, lying there naked in the early afternoon, I drifted off to sleep.