Jeb staggered back into jolting consciousness and vaguely noted the morning light filling the window of the garage’s side door. His four captives were seated at a nearby table smoking cigarettes and playing some kind of card game. Ricky looked over at the naked captive and winked. ‘Hey guys! Our prize buck is back and begging for action.’ Recent memory blew the last tattered shreds of fog from Jeb’s mind and he tested his bonds for the thousandth time, wincing at the pain in chaffed wrists and ankles that was, nevertheless, subsumed by the throbbing agony of his branded foot. His reamed ear and battered torso, still vaguely reddened by the previous night’s strapping, added a muted, mournful chorus to the litany of pain. The exhausted jock started to say something but subsided; a low baritone groan and fresh tears of frustrated anger and deep humiliation far more articulate than any verbal curse or plea.

‘Think he’s seen enough use?’ Virgil asked his companions, and the question seemed oddly business-like; something to be taken seriously. ‘Yeah, I guess our hairy boy might qualify...’ Ricky paused, considering, then added, ‘but I’ll bet he’s still a virgin.’ Jeb stared at his captors, nonplussed; he had been laid more times than he could count and had told them so....seemed like a hundred years ago back at the bar. Virgil shot back, ‘Well then, let’s get him off the table and have a look at our stud’s fine young ass. Sure seemed nice under all that denim shooting pool.’ Jeb ground his teeth in well-practiced rage; he had known this was coming but didn’t know how to face it. He felt the kiss of metal cuffs once again on wrists and ankles as the rope binding him to the workbench was cut. Bone weary, Jeb struggled in a desultory way, more to satisfy his shredded honor than any real hope of escape as he was levered off the workbench and onto his feet. He whimpered as his branded insole slapped the concrete floor and sank to one knee, but was hoisted up by strong hands beneath slick armpits and made to stand under his captor’s renewed scrutiny. Jeb stared at the floor, swaying with exhaustion, his mind a crazy skipping record stuck on the refrain, ‘this can’t be happening!’ ‘Bend over,’ Charlie’s voice cracked like a whip; willing the stud to obey...and he really tried, realizing resistance was useless...but couldn’t bring himself to do it. A balled fist slammed into ridged abdominals made the decision easier and Jeb doubled up in a paroxysm of surprised pain. He heard the clink of linked chain follow the snap of a short lead attached to the cuffs around his ankles and wrists; immobilizing him staring at the gap between splayed feet.

What followed surpassed Jeb’s darkest expectations. At first, the guys spent a little time clowning around; running rough hands up the sensitive insides of the jock’s quivering thighs, lightly tracing the seamed track from his swinging balls to the deepening crevice of his hairy ass. Virgil played a rat-tat with a pair of old wooden drumsticks on the twitching twin globes beading with fresh sweat like morning dew on the grass outside. Jeb yelped as one of the drumsticks plunged deep into the crevice, unerringly toward his clenched hole. The drumstick probed for a while as if amused or distracted then, recalling its mission, nosed deep into the tight hole. Fingers followed. Jeb’s panting misery went unnoticed and was ultimately drowned out by the sound of descending zippers.

‘OK, guys, time to get ready,’ Charlie interrupted the sport; glancing nervously at an old clock. Jeb was left alone for a while, bent nearly double crying onto the oil-stained floor of the garage, as boxes were shuffled around and the scraping sound of moving furniture filled his ears. Soon enough the sounds died down and his lead removed. The well-used stud was hoisted again to a standing position and jostled to the center of the garage. Leather cuffs were attached to his wrists and his arms stretched wide above his head and attached by chains to the ceiling rafters. He had given up pleading for mercy but found the strength to shriek again as a narrow screw was thrust through the hole in his ear. A small paper tag was attached to the end just peeking out, like some new wave bauble, from behind his ear and secured with a bolt spun around the end of the screw. Ricky had scrawled something on the tag and stood back considering. ‘Yeah. I think you’ll fetch a decent price, boy.’ He paused, considering something else, and casually fingered the stud’s thick cock. ‘Never did get around to checking the plumbing. Oh well, I figure you were mostly telling the truth back at the bar.’ He laughed, slapped Jeb’s balls, and said, ‘Besides, the customers will want to check that out for themselves anyways.’ Jeb’s blue eyes widened in sudden comprehension as the garage door opened to full sunlight.