Breakdown Motel Part 2 (Gay BDSM Erotica) Read online

  Jeff, still fuming with rage, was silent, and Mason simply leaned in close, the man’s lips grazing against his exposed ear.

  “It means that you belong to me now,” he whispered. The words, along with the sensation of Mason’s hot breath landing on Jeff’s earlobe sent a shiver racing through Jeff’s upper body.

  “Tell me you understand that,” Mason said, his face still inches away from Jeff’s, his voice dangerously soft. “Tell me that you belong to me.”

  Jeff’s first impulse was to give this man yet another defiant “fuck you,” but he quickly thought of Danny, strong and silent throughout everything he had seen them throw at him. He thought of how incensed it seemed to make Mason, how he seemed barely able to contain his fiery rage.

  So Jeff simply swallowed, locked his lips, and chose to remain silent.

  “Tell me,” Mason repeated, “I want to hear you say it.”

  Jeff, as determined as ever, offered him nothing but the fait hint of smile. Mason watched him for a few moments, then smiled back, knowing he was sizing up a surprisingly worthy opponent. And though he didn’t notice it, Danny, standing over both of them, was smiling as well.

  “Very well,” Mason said, rising to his feet. He stepped over to the wall, pressing a button on a small intercom unit. “Gus,” he said calmly, watching his two captives out of the corner of his eye. “We’ll be needing the theater. Get it ready at once.”

  “Uh, yes, sir,” Gus’ voice crackled back in response, clearly somewhat surprised.

  The theater? Jeff thought, puzzled and apprehensive. Then, as if the man were reading his mind, or at least detecting his fear, he heard a nearly gleeful Mason say, “Your training will begin at once.”

  ~*~

  The “theater” was little more than a storage closet in the back of the motel’s main building. At least, it looked like a storage closet to Jeff as Gus and a large, burly, biker-looking man named Dwayne dragged him across the property towards the small room. Except for a fresh piece covering his mouth, the duct tape was gone, painfully ripped off of his face by Mason, taking part of one of his eyebrows with it. The tape around his wrists and ankles had been cut free, too – but only to be quickly and carefully replaced with solid steel shackles. Jeff knew he had to try and fight back or escape at the first opportunity they gave him, but they weren’t taking any chances with him. That was fine with Jeff, though. He had done what needed to be done to make the man in charge want to keep him alive. Now, all he had to do was endure whatever they threw at him, just long enough for them to let their guard down…

  “Did you hear that he’s a cop?” Gus asked, a toothy grin across his face as the three of them neared the room. Dwayne grumbled in response, clearly less enthusiastic about the situation.

  “Just hope the boss knows what he’s doin’,” he finally muttered.

  Gus pulled the door open and turned on a buzzy light bulb hanging from overhead. Jeff could finally begin to understand why they called the room a theater. There was a large television screen on the far wall, with a large wooden chair directly in front of it that appeared to be hand-crafted. As the men shoved Jeff inside, he could see that a majority of the seat had been removed, and that there were thick leather straps with buckles dangling from the armrests. The setup reminded him of an electric chair from an outdated execution chamber.

  Gus shoved Jeff down into the chair, and Dwayne quickly wrapped a thick, beefy arm around his neck from behind, making it nearly impossible to breathe while Gus uncuffed his wrists, then swiftly re-secured each one to its armrest, buckling the straps down as tight as they would go. Once he was sure that Jeff wasn’t going anywhere, Dwayne released him, leaving him gasping for air as Gus began securing his ankles to the chair, as well. A thick belt running from the back of the chair across his stomach was the final touch, leaving him almost completely immobilized.

  FLICK. The familiar sound of a switchblade caught Jeff’s ear, and he whipped his head to the side to see Dwayne staring down at him, serrated knife in hand, still sizing him up.

  “Don’t fucking squirm,” he said quietly before bending down over Jeff and grabbing his shirt, carefully slicing the fabric and tearing it off of his body. The pants were next, getting unbuttoned and yanked down past his hips, then torn off his legs with a few surgical rips from the knife. Jeff’s briefs were last, and came off the easiest with just two quick slices up the sides through the waistband. In the span of a minute, Jeff had been violently stripped naked, leaving him restrained to a chair wearing just his boots.

  Whatever was coming next wasn’t going to be pleasant.

  He looked at the television, still curious about its function in all of this, and found himself thinking back to high school, when he’d gotten an after-school job unloading trucks at a local department store. The management had made him watch a safety video when they’d hired him, and sat him down in a dark, cramped little room like this. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was going to be some twisted take on a similar orientation strategy.

  RIPPPP. With a quick, cruel flick of his wrist, Gus tore the tape off of Jeff’s mouth, leaving his lips burning. He cursed loudly at the pain, but Gus simply laughed at him, then turned and nodded to Dwayne. Before Jeff could realize what was going on, he felt Dwayne securing something around the tops of his ears, almost like eyeglasses or headphones. A small, fuzzy black ball appeared in front of his face – a microphone. They were making him wear… a headset?

  “You’re about to learn how to follow instructions,” Gus said, standing between Jeff and the television with his arms crossed. “It can be an easy lesson, or it can be a hard lesson. That much is up to you.”

  Jeff had lost track of what Dwayne was doing, and failed to notice him kneeling down behind the chair. It wasn’t until he felt a sudden, firm grip on his balls that he realized that Dwayne was reaching up under the seat. With the exposed gap and with his legs tightly secured in place, spread apart in the seat, there was nothing Jeff could do to resist. This was it, Jeff knew. No matter what happened, no matter how torturous things became, his only choice was to endure.

  Jeff felt something sticky and rather cool being attached to each testicle – electrodes, he guessed. Shock pads. He’d seen them used before, at a mental hospital where he’d worked a brief security detail coming out of the academy. He remembered what they were capable of, and the thought of having them used on his balls was absolutely terrifying. But Jeff just bit his lip, staring straight ahead and ignoring Gus as he smacked his chewing gum at him. He was determined not to give them the satisfaction of seeing him frightened, even though he knew it probably wasn’t an act he’d be able to keep up for very long.

  As it turns out, it would only take another couple of seconds before he’d betray his fear. He felt Dwayne’s fingers on his asshole smearing lube over his rim, his fingertips circling and probing their way inside with a wicked air of playfulness. Jeff grimaced and grunted softly, his lip starting to tremble, but it wasn’t until Dwayne brought something hard, cold, and metallic against his ass that the panic really started to show on his face. It felt like a dildo, but there were studded bumps, almost like tiny little… pyramids…

  Gus’ smile grew into a grin as he watched the horror spread across Jeff’s face. He knew what this was – he’d seen Mason use it on Danny…

  “The corncob of doom,” Gus said through a chuckle. “It’s a nasty one all right.”

  Jeff winced, breathing heavily as Dwayne began forcing the dildo and its dozens of electrified studs up inside of his ass. The harsh, sudden stretch took his breath away, leaving him growling in protest, teeth bared. But there was no stopping it – within seconds, Dwayne had buried the entire toy up Jeff’s ass, leaving only the thin, black power cord running out of his reddened, lubricated hole.

  Jeff was still wincing and gritting his teeth, trying to wrap his head around the fact that, for the first time, he had something up his ass, something that could potentially cause him excruciating pain. “P
lease,” he said, breathy desperation in his voice, “you can’t fucking do this! You can’t… you can’t torture someone and just get away with it!”

  Gus looked to Dwayne before shrugging at Jeff. “We do it every day, asshole.” He stepped out towards the door, slapping a hand over Jeff’s shoulder on the way out and adding, “Get used to it.”

  The light went out, and the two men stepped outside. “You can fight it all you want,” Dwayne said stoically, “but you ain’t coming out of that room until you’ve been broken down into what the boss wants you to be.”

  And with those words, the door slammed shut, leaving Jeff alone in the pitch black with only the sound of his breathing and his racing heart. A few seconds passed, and he began wrestling with his restraints, if only to confirm just how trapped he truly was. He finally gave in, defeated, hanging his head down low. Whatever this was, it was happening, and there wasn’t anything he could do to stop it.

  The television suddenly switched on, its noisy static illuminating the room. Jeff squinted, his eyes having already adjusted to the dark. After a few moments, the static disappeared, replaced with a blank, black screen. Jeff watched, confused as four words faded into focus, written in bold white block letters.

  I AM A SLAVE.

  Jeff didn’t get it. If this was an attempt at brainwashing, it wasn’t working…

  But then, the letters turned bright red, and Jeff found himself screaming in pain as electricity suddenly coursed through the electrodes, shooting straight into his testicles. The sensation was horrific, like hundreds of tiny, red-hot needles being rapidly and repeatedly driven into the tender flesh of his scrotum. He bucked and twisted against each one of his restraints, but there was no escape, not until several seconds later, when the words vanished from the screen, the electricity cutting off as well.

  Jeff gritted his teeth again, letting out a loud grunt of pain as he caught his breath. Cold sweat was already covering his body, and Dwayne’s words were ringing in his ear: “…you ain’t coming out of that room until you’ve been broken down into what the boss wants you to be…”

  How long was that supposed to take? And if they wanted to break him down into a slave, they already had him right where they wanted him as their restrained captive. They were already free to do whatever they wanted to him – torture him, rape him, kill him, even. What more did they want?

  The white block letters reappeared on the screen, same as before. I AM A SLAVE. Jeff tensed, his body anticipating what he knew was likely coming next… A few seconds passed…

  The letters turned red.

  Then, complete and utter agony.

  The studs in Gus’ “corncob of doom” expanded out from the base, sparking to life with sizzling electricity. If Jeff thought the pain in his testicles was excruciating, it was nothing compared to this. Each pointed stud poked directly into his anal lining, painfully stretching him apart from the inside out. It felt like getting fucked by a porcupine, and that wasn’t even counting the fact that each spike was electrified. He shook violently and uncontrollably in his seat, his jaw locked and teeth bared, drool dripping down the chin of his bright red face, every vein in his neck and shoulders bulging out, his body strained beyond belief. He wanted to scream, but couldn’t – instead, all that came out of his mouth was a muffled gurgle from the back of his throat that quickly grew into a sort of pained, animalistic groan. When Dwayne had warned he was about to be “broken down,” he hadn’t been kidding.

  Finally, the letters disappeared from the screen, and the studs retracted into the base. The pain was over, but the damage was done. Jeff was exhausted and defeated – for all he knew, he’d be locked in this room all night. He’d never known such despair.

  He thought back to Danny, strapped down to the table and fucked by a dildo just like this one – maybe the exact same one, for all Jeff knew. Danny had never reacted, never screamed, never begged for it to stop. Jeff couldn’t fathom how much pain and inhumanity someone would have to endure in order to be able to withstand something like that. “Broken down” didn’t even begin to describe it.

  He stopped himself from dwelling on it, though, his attention returning to the moment. There had to be more to his current situation, something that he was missing. The television, the words… it didn’t make any sense. If they’d wanted to torture him, why not just torture him? Why all of the theatrics?

  That’s when he remembered the headset. The microphone... The words – they didn’t say “YOU ARE A SLAVE,” they said “I AM A SLAVE.”

  “It’s me...” he said to himself. “I’m supposed to say it…”

  A few seconds later, the words returned. Jeff was ready.

  “I am a slave,” he said. A few seconds passed. His body began to tense again, bracing for another round of pain…

  The words turned green, then disappeared from the screen. The electricity he was bracing himself to endure never came. Relieved, he let out a long slow exhale, grateful to be spared another round of shocks. But still, he knew it couldn’t be that simple… could it?

  Again, text appeared on the screen. Again, it read, “I AM A SLAVE.”

  “I am a slave,” Jeff said. The words flickered, fading from white to a faint green as Jeff spoke. Instantly, he realized what he was looking at: a real-time indication of the volume of his voice. The louder he spoke, the brighter the green became.

  The text changed to red. Clearly, faint green wasn’t good enough. The punishment, of course, was more pain.

  In an instant, Jeff threw his head back, his face contorted and twisted as he strained against his bonds and struggled to bear the searing electricity flowing both into his testicles and into his ass. The surge lasted longer than the last one, which he realized had lasted longer than the first… The punishments were intensifying…

  Finally, after almost thirty seconds of nonstop agony, the electricity cut out. Jeff’s head fell forward, sweat dripping off of his face. He’d been in here for only a few minutes now, and he already felt completely drained. How much longer until he simply passed out from exertion? But before he could dwell on his woes for too long, the words returned to the screen. Having learned his lesson the hard way, Jeff practically shouted into the mic, “I am a slave!”

  The words turned bright green in response, then disappeared. No electricity.

  It was actually a bit ingenious, Jeff realized. They wanted to condition him not just to endure pain, but also to respond to it, to learn from it, and to modify his behavior accordingly. But as a fresh captive, they had to expect him to resist, to fight back, to refuse to play along with their games, to do whatever he could to spite them, even if it meant enduring barbaric punishments. Here, however, in this stuffy little room, there was no one for Jeff to disobey. Whatever small satisfaction he might have felt by refusing to play by Mason’s rules didn’t apply here. He either obeyed, or he suffered, and unlike before, with Mason, there was no base incentive for insolence.

  The screen lit up again, but this time with what appeared to be security footage. It was the room at the bottom of those steel stairs – he recognized the large cabinet where he’d hid. In the center of the room, two naked young men were bent over the padded leather table, hands cuffed behind their backs, steel collars around their necks. The first was a longish-haired sandy blonde slave who looked to be in his early twenties or so. Behind him, Jeff recognized Mason, eagerly thrusting into him, biting his lip as he worked his cock in and out of the slave’s ass. And, to Jeff’s confusion, he couldn’t help but think that this slave seemed to be… enjoying himself…

  The slave beside him had his head turned away from the camera, but with his short, clean haircut, he didn’t seem to fit in quite as well as his blonde counterpart. Jeff wondered if he was new. Behind him, a large, muscular black man wore a sinister smile, slowly bucking back and forth, fucking his slave alongside Mason. Jeff shuddered for a moment, realizing that this was the kind of thing he needed to brace himself for.

  The second sl
ave gave a sharp, sudden moan, clearly struggling to endure the brutal size of the man fucking him. He turned his head, facing the blonde slave, staring at him with pleading eyes…

  “Shit…” Jeff said out loud, realizing that the second slave was none other than Danny Major. He looked so different – less hardened, less muscular, less scarred… more like a normal person than a well-conditioned recipient of nonstop sexual torture…

  Jeff gasped, his breath suddenly taken away as the dildo in his ass began to pulsate, its studs slowly rising and falling with a steady, gentle hum of electricity starting to flow. And most surprising of all, unlike before, this wasn’t painful. It wasn’t even uncomfortable. The electricity was different now, a lower voltage that did more to ease his muscles than it did to hurt them. At the same time, it seemed to stimulate him in such a way that the stretch he felt from the pulsing studs actually… it actually felt incredible…

  Jeff was at a complete loss. “Fuck…” he muttered, still reluctantly watching the footage play out on screen. Before long, he saw Danny’s face change from a pained look of helplessness to something different, almost some sort of submissive trance. Danny, like the more experienced slave beside him, was starting not just to bear the depravity, but actually to enjoy it, in spite of himself. And, coupled with the surprisingly pleasurable sensation building in his own ass, watching this play out sent a confusing cocktail of emotions washing through Jeff’s head. Of course, there was disgust at watching someone getting raped, but also relief that they seemed to have found a way not to suffer. He felt empathy for both of the slaves, and certainly fear over joining their ranks, but also an inexplicable sense of… excitement. And with his prostate quickly beginning to throb amidst the growing ecstasy of the dildo’s pulses, Jeff couldn’t hide the fact that he felt aroused, and this, of course, meant that Jeff felt ashamed, as well. After all, the video on the screen was undeniably awful – and yet Jeff couldn’t look away, nor could he keep himself from growing hard as a rock within just a few seconds.