Breakdown Motel Part 2 (Gay BDSM Erotica)

by Ty Marton

  After what seemed like an eternity, Mason hit the button again, stopping the electricity. Danny hung his head low, breathing heavily, sweaty and weak from the exertion of Mason’s torment.

  SLAP! Mason kneeled down behind Danny, simultaneously slapping both of his ass cheeks and inspecting the slave’s limp cock in his fingertips.

  “Just a droplet of precum…” Mason muttered, disappointed. “I think we can do better than that, can’t we X?”

  “Here boy,” Fox grunted, “let me show you…”

  With those words, Fox yanked Danny’s hair again, pulling his head upright again just in time to catch a faceful of the man’s cum. The thick, milky semen spurted out into Danny’s emotionless eyes, dripping down over his nose, his lips, and the ball in his mouth. Fox finished by letting loose a thick glob of spit directly into the young man’s face. Jeff silently winced in shameful disgust as it dangled and dripped from the tip of his nose.

  Mason snickered from behind the boy. “Believe me, Charles – this one knows how to cum. Though I appreciate the… enthusiasm.” He took the remote back in his hand, reaching out with the other to massage Danny’s asscheek in a grotesque, oxymoronic show of affection. “Ready for more, X?” he asked, gleefully thumbing the dial upwards…

  “…Mason.”

  Jeff watched as Mason turned toward the sound of the tentative voice, someone standing out of Jeff’s narrow line of sight. There was a subtle flame of irritation in Mason’s eyes at being interrupted, but also a solemn sense of instant concern. Jeff could only reason that Mason knew there was no way an underling would interrupt him unless it was of critical importance.

  “Yes, Gus?”

  “Dwayne found a car abandoned less than a half a mile down the highway. Trixie says she doesn’t remember it being there on her way in.”

  Jeff watched as Mason shared a quick glance with Sherriff Fox, all the while struggling to contain a feeling of dread that seemed to emanate from the pit of his stomach. The car… his car…

  “And have you seen anything else out of the ordinary tonight?” Mason finally asked, his voice low and contemplative.

  Gus’ answer came a little too quick, a little too defensive. “No, sir…”

  “And have you even been paying attention?” Mason snarled, cutting the underling off. Silenced, Gus could only cower in the doorway and await further instruction as Mason let out a deep exhale, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “Check the footage on all of the cameras. If someone’s out there, they couldn’t have missed it.”

  Gus gave a quick, “Yes, sir” as he happily fled the room, leaving Mason alone with Danny and the Sherriff.

  “C’mon,” Fox grunted, stepping back into his pants. “We’ll run the plate and see what we’re dealing with. Could be nothing…”

  Mason grimaced, buttoning up his shirt as if standing before an invisible mirror. “Not tonight,” he muttered, pulling his pants on and pulling the belt tight around his waist. He looked down at Danny, a restrained, helpless mess on the table before them. “Don’t think for a moment that I’m through with you.”

  With that, Mason hurried out, leaving Fox hurrying to catch up while still buckling his pants. The door closed. The room was empty, save for Danny.

  Jeff knew this would likely be his only chance.

  He waited until he heard the heavy clang of the door at the top of the steps slamming shut, then emerged from the cabinet, staring at Danny with a strange mixture of pity and apprehension. If Danny was surprised to see someone pop out of the cabinet, he wasn’t showing it. His face remained stoic and expressionless, his almost sleepy-looking eyes staring straight back at Jeff’s. Had he known Jeff was in there all along?

  It didn’t matter – there was no time for anything but action. Jeff scrambled beside Danny, kneeling down and unbuckling his ball gag. “My name is Jeff Kenton,” he said. “I’m a cop, and I’m here to help you get out of here.” The gag fell to the floor, along with a steady stream of semen-infused drool. Danny didn’t say a word, still just staring straight at Jeff with eyes that seemed to signal some sense of curiosity. Maybe this poor guy had forgotten what hope felt like, Jeff thought to himself.

  “Do you understand me?” Jeff said, working on Danny’s wrist restraints. “Do you think you’ll be able to make a run for it with me?”

  Just then, as Jeff finished unbuckling Danny’s left wrist, the slave’s arm shot out, aggressively grabbing at Jeff’s arm, their eyes still locked.

  “Easy, easy,” Jeff said, the surprise of it almost knocking him back. Not sure of what else to do, he reached over, placing his hand over Danny’s on his arm and offering it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m going to do whatever it takes to get you out of here, okay? You have my word.”

  Danny stared back, expressionless, before blinking a few times, almost as if coming out of a trance. He remained silent, but after a few moments, took Jeff’s hand and squeezed it right back. Progress, Jeff thought to himself, knowing that the psychological toll of almost a solid year of non-stop slavery and abuse was likely irreparable. Jeff gave Danny a solemn, knowing nod, hoping that the slave could pull it together and hang in there for him. If they were going to stand any chance of getting out of here, they were going to need to be able to trust each other and work together.

  Jeff quickly turned to the other cuff and began unbuckling it, knowing that they likely had precious little time before Mason returned. If they were lucky, the discovery of Jeff’s car would be enough of a distraction for the two of them to make it off of the grounds and book it on foot the opposite direction down the highway. They’d just have to hope they could find help before any of the motel’s staff found them, but if not, Jeff knew he was prepared to go down fighting.

  “There,” he said, the cuff slipping off of Danny’s wrist, “can you stand up?” Danny rose to his feet, but didn’t respond. Good enough, Jeff thought. He stepped over to the door, cracking it open and peering out into the dark corridor, where a ribbon of dim light seeped down the staircase from beneath the exit.

  “If we run out into the desert, we should be able to hook around towards the highway. Hopefully, no one will see us…”

  Danny clamped a hand down on Jeff’s shoulder, turning him around with surprising strength. He stared at Jeff with a stern, piercing glare, shaking his head. No.

  “We can’t just stay here,” Jeff urged. “We have to try.”

  “No.”

  Danny’s voice was hoarse and rugged, as if it had deteriorated from non-use. The sound of it made Jeff’s hair stand on end. “We run,” Danny went on, “we die.”

  Jeff steeled himself in spite of the ever-increasing gravity of the situation. “I don’t want to leave you here,” he finally said, “but I’m not staying here, either.” He started to push the door open, but Danny grabbed him again, pulling him back with even more urgency than before.

  “You need to trust me,” Jeff said. “I can make it, and when I do, I’ll be back with help. Police, FBI, you name it…”

  “People have run before,” Danny said. “All of them have died.” He stepped in closer, his face inches away from Jeff’s, his voice barely above a whisper. “You can’t run.”

  Jeff swallowed, his mouth dry at the mere sight of Danny’s intensity. “I have to try,” he repeated, reaching up to pull Danny’s hand off of his shoulder…

  But Danny was faster, grabbing Jeff’s wrist and violently yanking him down to the ground, face first. In an instant, Danny was down after him, straddling him, and Jeff, the wind knocked out of him, was powerless to fight back. Danny slid his arm in around Jeff’s neck, pulling it tight under his chin like a boa constrictor finishing off its prey. Jeff grunted in protest, clawing at Danny’s arm, his face growing red and his vision tunneling in as the flow of blood to his brain stopped. It was no use. Danny gritted his teeth, pulling the arm in tight as Jeff grew weaker by the second. Before long, his arms had fallen limp in front of him, and he gave one final hissing gasp for air. His eyes sl

owly fluttered shut. It was done.

  Danny let go, letting Jeff collapse, unconscious, to the floor in front of him. Climbing off of him, he grabbed Jeff by the shoulders and rolled him onto his back, leaning in close, his ear hovering over Jeff’s mouth to make sure he was still breathing, watching to ensure the steady rise and fall of his chest.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, though he wasn’t sorry for what he had done. He was sorry this man had ever come to this place, this inescapable hell. He’d been doomed the second he’d set foot on the property.

  With that thought, Danny crawled over to the corner and kneeled, his arms folded behind his back. With a sad sigh, he bowed his head, waiting for the sound of his master’s return.

  ~*~

  The first thought that rolled through Jeff’s mind as he slowly came to was that his head was sweaty. He felt as if he were coming out of a dream. For a few seconds, his groggy mind bemoaned the thought of opening his eyes, getting out of bed, and turning the AC up.

  And that’s when it struck him – his eyes were open, but something was blocking his vision. And he wasn’t in his bed… he wasn’t even comfortable. And his hands… why couldn’t he move his hands?

  It hit him in an instant. Motel X. Danny Major. Mason. Sherriff Fox. All of it was very, very real, as was the danger Jeff was in. He began to squirm against his bonds, realizing that his wrists were duct taped behind his back, as were his ankles. He could only assume that it was duct tape wrapped around his head, too, practically mummifying his face, leaving only his nose poking out.

  “See?” he heard Sherriff Fox grunt, “It’s holding just fine.”

  Mason’s voice was next. “Still, a room full of restraints, and you go for the duct tape…. Anyway, he’s awake now…”

  “Right,” Fox said. Jeff could sense the man crouching down beside him, and soon smelled the thick, pungent aroma of cigar smoke being blown straight into his helpless face. “You ever hear the expression, ‘curiosity killed the cat,’ kid?”

  Jeff let out a muffled murmur through the duct tape, squirming fruitlessly against his bonds.

  “Cut it out,” Fox barked, reaching in and pinching Jeff’s nose shut. “I can kill you in sixty seconds with two fingers if I want.”

  After ten seconds or so without oxygen, the point was made. Fox released Jeff from his grasp, chortling under his breath as the bound captive sucked in a desperate breath of air.

  Fox turned back up to Mason, taking another drag from his cigar before speaking. “So what now?”

  Mason’s reply was calm, unemotional, and deceptively ruthless. “I’m thinking.”

  “It’ll take some work to make him disappear without anyone asking the right questions, but it’s doable…”

  “I said I’m thinking,” Mason repeated, his voice carrying an undertone of irritation. They don’t trust each other… Jeff realized, knowing that if he were to somehow survive the next ten minutes, the cracks in their partnership might offer him his only hope of escape. “But yes,” Mason went on, “no matter what we do, you’ll need to make him vanish. You can get started with his vehicle. Dwayne will know what to do.”

  Sherriff Fox rose to his feet. “Right. I’ll change Trixie’s arresting officer to one of my guys. Don’t want anything linking the two of them, that’s for damn sure.”

  “Good,” Mason said. “Get to it.”

  Sherriff Fox left them, the heavy door thudding shut as he exited. Jeff tried to hold in a tremble, his spine chilled as he sensed Mason slowly pacing around him, watching him. Finally, the intimidatingly quiet man broke the silence.

  “Unfortunately, our motel has no vacancies at the moment. I make it a point never to take on more than I’m capable of handling…”

  He darted his hand down, grabbing a fistful of Jeff’s hair and pulling him up onto his knees. “But you might be worth the risk… X, come here.”

  Jeff heard the quiet sound of bare feet padding along on the cement. Danny was still here, he realized. Why the hell had Danny attacked him, stopped him from escaping? Couldn’t he see that Jeff was his only shot at freedom?

  RRRRRIP. Jeff’s lips suddenly felt as if they were on fire as Mason ripped the duct tape off of his mouth. “Y-You son of a bitch…”

  SMACK! Mason’s hand landed squarely across Jeff’s jaw, silencing him. “Do not talk,” he said simply. “If you want to live, you’ll need to show me that you’re capable of obeying…”

  “Fuck you,” Jeff snapped back, recklessly calling his bluff. “You’ll just have to kill me, then.”

  Mason laughed to himself, a sound that sent a fresh wave of chills down Jeff’s spine. “You want me to kill you?” he mused. “Then beg for it. Beg for death.”

  Jeff grimaced, gritting his teeth, fuming with powerlessness. Mason was right – even if Jeff thought he would prefer death to slavery, there was still something inside of him, a fire that would never let him give up...

  Another “Fuck you,” was all that he could muster.

  “That’s what I thought,” Mason said, clicking his tongue at Jeff’s insolence. His grip on Jeff’s hair tightened, and he pulled the young officer’s head forward until his forehead connected with something. It was skin, he realized, feeling it rise and fall with a breath. Danny’s stomach. And that meant…

  “Open your mouth, Officer,” Mason commanded. “Make my slave hard. Make him cum. Drink from him. Do that, and you shall live. Then again, if you really wish for me to kill you… do nothing.”

  Jeff’s tongue went dry at the thought, and he struggled to swallow a lump in his throat. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that Mason meant what he said. The adrenaline surging through Jeff’s veins had zero interest in playing Mason’s games, and was willing to die just in order to spite him. But the fire in Jeff’s stomach – the young man’s very will to live itself – well, it knew that it really had no choice.

  “I’m going to count to three…” Mason said gently.

  He didn’t even make it to one. Jeff opened his mouth and tilted his chin forward, his lips finding their way onto Danny’s cock, then down to its head, parting wide enough for it to enter. He forced any ingrained thoughts of repulsion from his mind, and even disengaged his stream of consciousness altogether, allowing the fire in his stomach to take over. This was no time for fear, disgust, or self-consciousness. Jeff simply needed to do whatever it took to survive.

  And right now, that meant he needed to suck cock.

  But simply sucking Danny’s cock wasn’t going to be enough. Jeff had to get him hard, he had to make him cum. Jeff needed to suck Danny’s cock well, a daunting prospect for someone with zero experience performing oral sex on another man. It was beyond twisted, but Jeff had no time to dwell on the horrifying and bizarre nature of his situation. He had one job to do, and failure meant death.

  “Good,” Mason cooed, watching as Jeff gradually began forcing himself to embrace the act, to massage his tongue over the flaccid underside of Danny’s shaft, to bob his head back and forth, growing more and more desperate to get Danny hard with each passing second…

  “Really, X?” he heard Mason sneer. “You’d let him die just to continue defying me?”

  If Danny was giving any kind of response, Jeff couldn’t tell, as the slave’s cock remained limp in his mouth.

  “You want him, don’t you X? I can tell. Do you think you’re doing him a favor by getting him killed? Clearly, he wants to live…”

  Jeff felt the first moment of true panic beginning to set in. If Danny wasn’t hard soon, he’d be dead. And sure enough, a few moments later, he felt something stiff jammed against his temple…

  A gun.

  “Don’t think that I won’t do it right in front of you, right here, right now. For real this time. No more games….”

  Jeff trembled with a gun to his head, bobbing back and forth more frantically now, his only way of communicating anything to Danny… Please, he thought to himself, just give in… I’m dead if you don’t…

  “You want him,” Mason said, “And I’ll give him to you. But this is your last chance…”

  It’s my last chance, Jeff thought, the panic becoming overwhelming. His time was quickly running out, and still, no response from Danny…

  Mason cocked the gun. Behind the duct tape, Jeff’s eyes were wrenched shut as he braced for a bullet to the brain…

  Then, happening so quickly Jeff barely realized it at first, Danny’s cock grew hard. Jeff cried out in surprise, urgently hoping to draw Mason’s attention as he slid his lips up and down over the stiff shaft.

  A few seconds later, he felt the gun lower.

  “Go on,” Mason said quietly, “finish.” His tone was different now, less menacing and more curious. Strangely enough, he almost sounded… impressed.

  But Jeff knew he wasn’t done yet. Encouraged by the progress he was making, he quickened his pace, bobbing back and forth with an odd sense of growing confidence. This was no longer an impossible task, and the mere idea that he might live through the next few minutes was all the motivation Jeff needed to, as Mason had put it, finish. And from the motel master’s vantage point, it almost looked like enthusiasm. By the time Danny was cumming into the back of a moaning Jeff’s throat, Mason had a satisfied smile on his face. “How interesting,” he muttered quietly.

  Danny pulled back, slowly sliding his wet cock out of Jeff’s mouth, leaving the two of them gasping for breath almost in unison – a matching set.

  Mason knelt down in front of Jeff, wiping a small smear of semen off of his lip with the tip of his thumb. “If I didn’t know any better,” he said, “I’d say that you actually enjoyed yourself, Officer.”

  Jeff’s mouth twisted into a snarling frown, and he exhaled a shaky, furious breath, knowing just how powerless he was before this man. “…Fuck you,” he mumbled.

  Undeterred, Mason grinned at his captive, duct tape still sloppily wrapped around the top of his face. “Just remember, I was good enough to give you the option of death. And you chose to live. Do you know what the price of that choice is?”

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