Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 100545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Clover pressed his face against Drake’s neck, unwilling to take in any more of the carnage. “It’s not funny! Is she really dead? Is Tank okay?”
Drake gave Clover’s hand a short squeeze and kneeled by the limp body. “She’s dead all right. Straight in the temple,” he said, pushing his hands into her pockets, only to produce a bundle of keys, which he presented to Clover. “Bingo.”
Clover’s gaze darted toward the menagerie. “But… what about the others?”
Drake rose, extending his hand for Clover’s. “We have our friend listening on to the police radio. They’ll be here in the next ten minutes. But we need to be gone by then.”
“But you’re sure the police are coming?”
Drake stroked Clover’s hair, already leading him through the garden. “Yes, the others will be helped. Tank’s okay, he’s waiting for us at the helicopter. Did they… hurt you?”
Clover stared up at Drake so intently he stumbled over some rock, but Drake held him up. Of course he did. “No. You came in time.”
He knew what Drake meant. He worried that despite them saving him, it was too late and Clover had been violated. Once more, Clover had been saved from even a day of what Drake had lived for years.
Drake stayed silent for a while but then pulled Clover close and kissed his head through the balaclava. He didn’t need to speak. Drake would always be there for him.
Maybe one day, Clover would be able to return the favor.
Epilogue – Tank
The sun was milder so late in the day, and its position in the sky no longer warranted the use of sunglasses. In the peace of their home in Oregon, away from prying eyes, Tank and his crew could spend their afternoon however they liked.
Pyro was making magic happen on the grill while Boar stood at his side with beer and a magazine they were both snorting at. Tank used the spare time before dinner to accommodate more time for exercise, and Drake? He seemed to have most fun of them all.
Clover stood on one leg, with the other hung parallel to the ground. It was bent in the knee, and the cuff on his ankle—attached to the boy’s long braid, which kept his back awkwardly bent. Drake had him tied to the branch above with a rope, which in turn forced Clover to either stand on his toes or have the rope apply more pressure to his hair and raised leg. It was an impossible position, but Clover’s hard cock was shiny with pre-cum as he moaned through the ball-gag in his mouth.
“Are you sure it’s safe?” Boar looked up from his magazine.
It wasn’t the first time he was asking. After over a year, he should know it took much more than that to break their slutty boy. A bit of bondage was hardly an issue.
Drake frowned at Boar, stroking Clover’s side. “Are you questioning my competence?”
“Just saying it looks a bit rough.”
Drake stroked Clover’s pale neck, pressing to him from the back. “What do you think? Is it too much?” He twisted Clover’s nipple and the boy uttered a strangled moan that had Tank dropping to the grass and pay closer attention to the play.
Pyro pointed to them with his beer. “See? He agrees.”
Drake chuckled, tugging at Clover’s erect cock. “He has a safety signal, and I don’t see him using it.”
Clover opened his eyes and lowered his heel to the ground, only to groan when the rope forced his spine and raised leg into a contorted position. Tank could swear Drake came up with ever-crueler ideas for bondage as time passed. Clover’s pale flesh was always a treat to watch, but when Clover shifted back to the original position and his reddened buttocks came into view, Tank’s enjoyment was colored by something more.
Satisfaction.
He’d been the one to make those two perfect mounds of flesh change color. It was a rule that Clover slept in Tank’s bed unless he’d asked for permission to stay with someone else. Last night, he’d been too lazy to come over and texted Tank instead, though judging by the regularity with which that happened, Tank suspected it was a conscious provocation on Clover’s part. The kind of spanking he got for such small transgressions was hardly cruel, and always ended in cuddles and sex.
Boar walked up to Clover with a napkin and wiped the drool dripping from Clover’s gagged mouth. “Isn’t it time to eat anyway?”
Pyro snorted and grabbed his own dick through jeans. “I sure have an appetizer for Clo before he may get some steak.”
“How about that, Clover?” Drake purred into the boy’s ear. “I bet that slutty mouth wants dick more than food. You’d just live on cum if you could, wouldn’t you?”
Clover mewled, but when he moved in the restraints, they only pulled on his hair again.