The ride and the wind didn't do their usual thing of emptying my head. Gloria's last words to me echoed through every thought. I knew that Charley would be hurt by me just disappearing while he slept. But like I told him I hate good-byes.

When I arrived at my apartment, I was exhausted. I collapsed on the bed and slept, fitfully, for three hours. I awoke with a headache and an insipid tune bouncing around in my head. I realized it was my cell phone. I'd turned it on just before hitting the bed, knowing Carl Wooden, my publicist, would be contacting me. My brain was so befuddled I didn't think to check missed calls.

I looked to see who was calling, and answered. I told him I would be at the bookstore by twelve-thirty. He told me the bookstore had called him about receiving numerous calls for me from a Charles Hill. I mentally kicked myself in the head and called Charley immediately.

"It's about time you turned on that damned phone. Are you okay?"

For a few seconds all I could think about was how wonderful it was to hear his voice. "I'm okay," I finally got out. "I'm sorry about the phone. Didn't even think about it until I got here."

"Why'd you leave like that, Jake?"

I could hear the hurt in his voice and felt guilty and gulped. "I have a hard time with good-byes. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry about last night. I should have done what you wanted."

"Charley, it's too late for recriminations. Forget about it for now. Look, I'll be back in six weeks. Whatever it is, we'll work it out."

There was silence on his end. I wondered what he was thinking. Maybe he wanted to just forget that he'd ever met me. Then he said, "I miss you already."

My spirit soared. "I'm ready to cancel this whole thing and head back to Kirksville," I told him.

"You can't do that. You have obligations. We'll be okay."

"I love you, Charley."

"I know you do. And you know I love you, Jake. But I'm still teed off that you didn't wait to let me say farewell."

"I like farewell."

A silence fell between us for what seemed like an eternity. I could hear him breathing.

"What time do you have to be at the bookstore?" he asked.

I glanced at the clock. "Oh, damn. In twenty minutes, and I still have to shower."

"Better get going then, Jake. Farewell, Love."

"Farewell, Charley."

As I showered I wondered again why Charley wouldn't fuck me. Myriad reasons swept through my mind, but the only one that stuck was that he was repulsed by Jim having had my ass before him.

The signings went well. Between one and three thirty I must have signed close to two hundred books. I never imagined that a Gay themed novel would be so popular. I never imagined how many times I'd hear people, men and women both, say, "I can't believe that you are gay," or from many women, "It's such a shame that you are gay. Such a waste." After a few days of it I closed my mind to it and would just benignly smile.

Jason had been first in line and I wrote a personal note in his book and signed it with my full name. All the rest were signed "Enjoy, Jake." Pete was still working in the bookstore and brought me fresh coffee every so often. I asked them to join me for a late afternoon lunch, but Pete had to be in class at that time, so it was just Jason and me.

That kid is so cute. I had become rather fond of him the times I had gone to his and Pete's place with Jim. He is so full of spunk. He seems to be fascinated by my size, but then, he is just a little overgrown pixie.

"So, you and Pete are okay?" I asked.

He blushed. "Yeah, and what's crazy, Arlen, that's the big lug that I caught kissing Pete, is now our best friend."

"Our best friend?"

"Yeah, if he's not hanging with Pete, he's with me, or both of us."

I raised an eyebrow.

"As far as we know Arlen is straight. At least he's dating girls." He changed the subject by commenting on not seeing me for quite a while and enquired about how things were going with Jim. When I dissembled, he wanted to know what had happened. I found myself telling him the whole story about splitting with Jim and meeting Charley. I couldn't tell him about how I felt about Charley, but Jason saw right through me.

"You fell in love with him, didn't you?" he asked, grinning like a Cheshire.

"Am I that transparent?"

He giggled. "Yeah, to me you are. So have you seen Jim?" he asked.

"No, and I don't really want to."

"So you just left him wondering if you were coming back?"

"Yeah."

"The first time I ever saw the two of you together I felt there wasn't any real love between you."

"Was it that obvious?" I asked.

He nodded.

"I did try."

"Jim's a nice guy, Jake, but..."

"He can only be caring to those he is unattached to," I said, finishing his sentence.

I had a second session of book signing that evening, from six to nine, and signed even more than the first session. The tour was off to a grand start.

In New York I was on the Today Show. That damned ball busting Katie kept trying to get me to divulge my private life, but I refused to say more than that I had an apartment near the university and that was where I did my writing. She had the audacity to show all her teeth in a big grin as she said, "Well, Jake Shipman, your private life seems rather dull. I guess that's what makes for an exciting author." I simply stared at her until the red light went off on the camera, then I got up and left without another word to her.

After the third city, New Haven, Connecticut, I think it was, the excitement wore off and the rest of the tour was pure drudgery. Even if they were my fans and had paid money for my book, it was an effort to smile and be friendly to all those strangers as I signed their books. If I hadn't been able to talk to Charley every evening, I think I might have faked an illness and cancelled the rest of it. He held me together and gave me the courage to go on.

The night I spent in Eugene, Oregon, Charley informed me he'd gotten on the computer and had done a lot of research on line.

"Did you know, Jake, that a lot of gay couples never get into anal sex?" he asked me.

It took me several seconds to process what he had said and the implications of the question left me feeling ill. The thought of never having the fulfilling feeling of Charley's cock massaging my prostate left a hollowness in the center of my being. "I didn't know that." I finally replied.

Charley must have been able to tell that I was not responding positively. "Damn, Jake, I wasn't implying that we wouldn't."

"Oh," was all I could say. I was in anguish.

Our conversation was interrupted by Charley's mother showing up unannounced to check on her son's well-being.

"We need to talk when you get back," he said. "You know I love you, Jake. We'll work it all out. I've got to go now." He disconnected before I could say goodbye or that I loved him. I spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling feeling lonely and empty. The next morning I laid a cloth soaked with ice water over my eyes to reduce the puffiness, put some drops in my eyes to get rid of the redness, put on a public face and smiled as I signed book after book.

Sacramento, San Francisco, L.A., San Diego, Tucson, Phoenix, Albuquerque, El Paso, Dallas, Houston, St. Louis, New Orleans, Miami, Tampa and finally Atlanta, the last city before heading back to Unicity. I'd circled the country and now I was going back to Charley's arms. I was eager to be there. The plan was for him to ride his Harley over and spend a few days with me at my apartment and we'd make plans from there. He had a job he liked and I could work anywhere, so it looked like I would be going back to Kirksville with him.

Dave Gates, the owner of the bookstore across from the university, had been in New York with Joe when Jake had started his book signing tour. Mary, Dave's sister, and Jean, their mother, had both lined up to get their signed copies of "Those Shifting Sands" and neither had thought to get Dave one, both assuming that Dave would automatically get one being the owner of the bookstore.

Carl Aldridge, Dave's financier had taken them out to lunch. As they were walking back to the offices of Aldridge, Handle and Jones they passed a bookstore with a big display of the new best seller. Dave had read the rave reviews the New York Times had published and had decided to read the book. He asked Carl to wait while he went inside and bought a copy.

The young lady working the cash register told him that if he came back in next week he could get the author to sign his book. Dave turned the book over and looked at the photo of the author on the back. He thanked the young lady and hurried out to show the photo to Carl and Joe.

"Look at this. I've seen him in the bookstore many times. He lives in University City. I never realized he is a best selling writer."

Carl looked at the photo. "Handsome masculine man," he commented.

"Yes, I've seen him sitting outside the store reading. He is a hunk. It also turns out he's a close friend of a friend of ours." Thinking about Jason reminded him of Arlen. "Oh, by the way, Carl, I met your son, Arlen, the other day. Why hadn't he looked me up to at least say hi?"

Carl shrugged. "Arlen wanted to be completely on his own. I guess he was feeling smothered by his mother and me. I did, at least manage to get him to choose the University. But I promised him I would leave him to himself as long as he called home once a week. I told him that if he needed help to look you up. If he didn't come looking for you, how did you happen to meet him?"

"He came up to the Eyrie with a friend of his. You remember me telling you about the young fellow that pushed me out of the path of a car?"

"Yes."

"Well, he and Arlen have become good friends."

"I'm glad to hear that he's getting involved outside of the jock groups that he's always run with."

"Well, Pete and Jason won't put up with jock attitudes from him, you can be assured of that. Jason's the friend who is a friend of Jake Shipman." He held the book up and tapped it.

Carl hesitated and frowned. "You say Pete and Jason as though they are a couple."

Dave lost his smile. "Is that a problem for you, Carl?"

He looked Dave in the eyes. "Of course, it's not."

"Something bothers you about it. What is it?"

Carl looked at Dave. "I suspect that one day my son is going to come to me and tell me he is gay. Until I met you two fellows the thought of my son being that way tore my heart out. I always feared that when he realizes it, he will suddenly become effeminate and prissy. I never knew there were regular guys who are--- gay.

"Arlen has always been a jock. I've never had to encourage him in that direction. And until he was in his late teens I didn't think anything of him never paying any attention to girls. Now he's twenty and has never had a girl friend. Oh, he's dated, but no girl twice. And not often. Only when he needed a date for a dance or a prom."

Dave was nodding, recognizing himself in the description. Joe who had just been walking along listening to his lover and Carl, smiled and said, "Carl, there is a group made up of parents and friends of gay kids that regularly meet to support each other and their gay loved ones. Right in your own neighborhood there's one. They call their association PFLAG. They can help you a lot."

"Since I've come to know you two, I don't know that I need such a group. Denise, his mother, might. I will tell her about it."

"She'll need your support, too, don't you think?"

"Of course she will, and I'll join PFLAG, too, to give her that support."

"You're a good man, Carl. That's why we do business with you. And don't worry about Arlen. For all we know he may be straight. Either way, he knows we're there for him if he needs us."

"Thanks, Dave. You know I think the world of you and Joe."

Pete was ecstatic. His cast was coming off. He'd be able to hug Jason with both arms. He'd be able to button his own pants. He'd be able to wear jeans to school rather than sweats that he could manage with one hand. He'd be able to wrap both arms around Jason. Pete was ecstatic. He'd be allowed to take a shower again. Oh man, he couldn't wait to feel the jets of hot water washing over his body again. He could wear a regular shirt again. But most important, he'd be able to hold Jason and squeeze him with both arms, and he'd be able to feel Jase's head resting on his chest as he slept. Pete was ecstatic. He carried a regular shirt with him, as he had every intention of throwing the damned sweat shirt in the garbage as soon as it came off in the doctor's office. Yes, Pete was ecstatic.

He ended up having to go to the doctor's office on his own. Jason had an important exam and there was no way he could get out of it. That was no big deal, the office was in the medical complex right on campus. Waiting by himself was no big deal, although it would have been nice to have someone with him. As he trudged down the long hall, not paying attention to the people around him, a hand gripped his shoulder. He turned to see who it was and knocked Dave in the chest with the elbow of the cast.

"Oopf." Dave grunted. "Jason told me that you were getting your cast off this morning and I wanted to be here to help you celebrate."

"Sorry, after eight weeks, I am still not used to this damned thing."

"Well, it will be off within the hour. I'm sure everyone will be as happy as you to see it gone." Dave said, rubbing his chest where Pete's cast had made contact. He grinned at Pete's contrite expression.

They entered the doctor's office and sat waiting. "Just think about how good it's going to be to hold Jason against your naked chest again." Dave whispered to him. Pete grinned and turned dark red. Dave just grinned back. The moment was interrupted by the nurse calling Pete's name.

Fifteen minutes later Pete pushed open the door and entered the waiting room. He looked depressed. His arm was in a sling bound to his body. He'd lost the strength and mobility in the arm and it pissed him off that he still wasn't able to wrap both arms around Jason or hug him with both arms.

"Hey, why the sour face? You've gotten rid of that damned cast."

"I can't even lift my arm. I have to have therapy everyday for the next month. Man, I was dreaming of being able to hold Jason with both arms tonight."

"That's going to happen, Pete, just not today. Hey, he can lay his head on your chest again."

Pete smiled and nodded, but still looked down in the dumps.

"How long has it been since he nibbled your nipples?" Dave asked with an impish grin.

"Dave! You really love to embarrass me, don't you?" Pete had turned a deep red again as he looked up.

"Are you still depressed?" Dave grinned.

"No."

"Well, let's find Jason and go celebrate."

They ran into Jason on the front steps of the hospital. First thing Jason did was embrace Pete, laying his head against his chest. Pete held him with his good arm. Jason slid his hand up Pete's torso until it came in contact with his nipple through the thin cotton shirt. He pinched it lightly. Pete grinned and blushed as Dave made an act of not seeing what was going on and then he leered at Pete.

Jason looked up at them and caught the knowing look as it passed between them. "It's been a long time since I could do that, Dave. You just go ahead and leer."

Pete blushed some more while Jason and Dave grinned.

Before Jim could even think to register with the nursing agency for a new position or even wonder what his next job would be, Dave Gates called him. "Jim," he said, "I have recommended you to the Paolini's. They are looking for a companion/nurse for Mr. Paolini's dad. He's in his late eighties and insists on living alone. He's a bit crotchety, but a likable old fellow. If you're interested contact Joe's mother for an interview. It'll be easy work most of the time and the pay will be way above scale."

Jim wasted no time making the appointment. He and Angie took an immediate liking to each other. She explained that Papa, as everybody called him, had chased off every companion, male and female they'd hired. He could not abide being smothered with attention, but he did enjoy someone intelligent that could carry on a good conversation.

After introductions Papa looked Jim in the eye and said, "Did my daughter-in-law explain to you that I will not abide stupidity?"

"Yes sir, and you can rest assured that I am not."

"I don't put up with bullshit either."

Jim grinned. "I'll have to remember that."

"And I don't like liars."

"Nor do I, sir."

"Cut the bullshit and drop the sir. My name is Giuseppe. But if you address me by that name I'll bop you with my cane. Call me Papa."

"Got it, Papa."

The old man studied Jim for several moments. "I think I'm going to like you, Jim. You've got balls."

Jim grinned. "I sure do. A nice pair of them."

Papa laughed. "Yup, I think we're going to get along just fine."

"I'd like that," Jim said.

The old man studied him for a few moments. Jim could almost feel the whir of the wheels turning in the old man's head. And then Papa asked, "Are you gay, Jim?"

Jim's eyebrows shot up almost to his hairline in surprise at the blunt question. It took him a second to rebound. "I'm as gay as your two grandsons, Joe."

"Hmmph. Funny thing that. They're saying that it runs in the blood." He shook his head. "But I'm not gay nor is my son. Best I can figure is it must come from my daughter-in- law's side of the family. But then again, I had an uncle back in Italy that never married. Maybe my family did have a recessive gene."

Since Jake had left on tour, Charley had been thinking seriously about quitting the police force and finding something else to do. He considered going back to college. University City would be a good place to go. So what if he was pushing toward thirty. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. He decided he'd discuss it with Jake when he called.

He fixed himself a sandwich when he got home and ate it at the kitchen sink while he stared glumly out into the black night. He'd gotten used to being alone again, but he didn't like it. It was such a joy to get home when Jake was waiting for him. Meals were more appetizing and fun when Jake was there to share them. After cleaning the dishes he'd used, he sat down to some soft music and a new novel. He wished there were more by Jake, he'd really enjoyed the way Jake worded things.

Charley had talked to Jake yesterday morning before he left Atlanta, but Jake hadn't called last night as he'd expected. Charley was sure he'd arrived back in UniCity. It was a direct flight. Charley chalked it up to exhaustion from his trip and waited until this evening. An unpleasant thought crept into his mind, 'Maybe Jake was punishing him for having to change their plans for meeting in UniCity. No, Jake would never do that kind of petty thing.' By nine Jake still hadn't called, so Charley called him. The phone rang four times and abruptly stopped in the middle of the fifth ring. "Jake? Hello, Jake?" he'd yelled into the silent phone. He hung up and called again getting a computerized recording. He wondered why he'd not gotten the recording the first time. He went to bed depressed and worried.

He called again the next morning and got the same mindless recorded message. He dressed and headed to Sal's before work. As he entered the café, Sal saw the somber look on his face. "Still no word, Charley?" she asked as she poured him a cup of coffee.

"No, nothing." He slumped on to a stool at the counter.

The morning I was leaving for the Atlanta airport my cell phone rang. It was Charley. He couldn't take the time off that we'd planned. Two fellow officers had been wounded in a mini market holdup; he had to cover. I was disappointed to the point of becoming despondent. God, I missed him. I missed the joy of just being around him. Now it would be another two days before I would see the man that had become my center.

I had jet lag so bad that the thought of ever getting on another plane made me thinking of committing hari kari to avoid the possibility. I dragged my tired ass to the apartment, stripped out of my clothes and stumbled into the shower. The hot stinging spray revived me somewhat. I still had another three hour signing session back at the Gates-Way Bookstore.

When it was over I gave Pete a hug for his cheering presence, thanked Sue Morrow, the store manager and trudged across campus to my empty apartment. I let my clothes fall to the floor as I slipped out of them and flopped face down on the bed intending not to budge until tomorrow, or maybe the day after. I needed to call Charley before I got into bed. I lay there thinking about riding my Chief back to Kirksville at the end of the week. Charlie was going to have three days off. I wanted to be there with him.

There was a knock on my door. I hoped it would be Charley, that he'd found a way to get the time off and come as we'd originally planned. I slipped into a pair of old Levi's and went to the door. I opened it with a big smile on my face. There stood Jim. I felt the smile slide south

"Nice way to be greeted," he said. Ignoring my frown, his eyes hungrily tasted my naked torso.

"Hello, Jim." I stood back and let him enter.

"Where have you been?" he demanded as he strode into my livingroom.

"And what business is it of yours? You said no. I left."

"I haven't seen or heard from you in months." His voice had lost its commanding tone. It had almost become a whine.

"I've been busy."

"I know your last two months have been. The paper printed your itinerary. But the months before that, you just disappeared off the face of the earth."

"I wanted to get my book finished." It burned me that he had never acknowledged me as a writer, even now that I was a successful one. What the hell, I shouldn't start expecting that out of him now. "You want something to drink?" I asked.

"Yeah, a beer would be great."

As I bent over to reach into the back of the fridge Jim rubbed himself against my butt. "Damn, you have one fine ass. I sure have missed fucking it."

I grabbed two long necks, straightened up, and shoved one into his chest. "Cut it out, Jim," I said moving away from him. "I'm not into that anymore."

He laughed. "Who're you kidding. You're a cock whore. You can't live without a hard cock up your ass at least once a day."

"I've been doing just fine without it."

"Excuse me," he laughed, "this is ol' Jim you are talking to. You can't tell me that you haven't been out looking for the biggest cock you could find to get stuffed up your pretty little white butt."

"Yours was the only one, Jim. Ever."

I guess my expression must have convinced him. He backed against the counter and stared at me.

"I don't lie, Jim. I used to think that you and I would eventually have a full, loving relationship. That was why I let you have my ass. You refused. I left." I may not lie but I wasn't about to tell him the whole truth either. My whole body was begging me to let him fuck me. My whole being was craving it. Charley's love and the prospect of him possibly doing it soon was all that held me back. I didn't want Jim again. I didn't. He was only a fuck. A good one, but still only a fuck. I wanted Charley. Even if we hadn't gotten into fucking yet, what I had with Charley was so much more.

I let Jim talk me into being his guest for dinner. As we ate the conversation centered on me and my trip mostly. I don't remember mentioning Charley. I did learn that he was now working as a companion/helper for the Paolini patriarch. He talked about what a brilliant mind the old fellow has and what a delight it was being around him most of the time. After dinner we stopped in a little bar around the corner for a beer. I bought the first round and agreed to Jim buying another since I was afoot and wouldn't be driving. When I finished the first bottle I headed to the toilet to relieve my bladder.

I suppose I should have suspected something when I returned, because Jim's mood had changed. He'd lost his ebullience and was pensive and a little nervous as he kept watching me. I ignored it, figuring that he was trying to figure out how to get me into bed and I wasn't about to let him. By the time I had drunk half of the second beer I was feeling a little woozy. I put it off to the fact I was exhausted from the tour. Jim told me to "Drink up and let's go." I upended the bottle and just let the beer slide down my throat without swallowing.

"Atta boy," Jim muttered as he watched.

I swung around and headed for the door. Jim was right there to help me when I stumbled onto the sidewalk.

"I think I'd better walk you home, Jake," he said.

"Damn, I only had the wine at dinner and two beers."

"You must be exhausted from your trip," he assured me.

Every step was becoming more of an effort. He kept a steadying hand on my arm as I wobbled our way across the university campus to my apartment. I fumbled the key out of my pocket and Jim took it and unlocked the door. He maneuvered me into the bed room and started undressing me. My legs turned to rubber. I collapsed. "What's going on, Jim?" My tongue was even getting difficult to use.

"Just relax, Jake. Go with the flow. You know you want this." He lifted me onto the bed and finished stripping me. I watched him remove his own clothes.

"Whad da fuck ya doin', Jim?" I could barely make my mouth work. I tried to raise up on one elbow and couldn't get my arms to work. In my muddled mind I began to realize he'd drugged me. I was conscious of what was happening, but couldn't seem to make my muscles do anything. I was paralyzed.

"I'm just giving you what you need. Your ass is so fine, Jake. Oh yeah, I'm going to fuck your brains out," he said, roughly rubbing his hands over my body.

"No, Jim." I protested, "M'ass blongs t'Charley now."

I could hear my words all smeared together, but I guess Jim still could understand me. "To hell with Charley," he said, "whoever he is. Your ass is mine tonight."

He was on the bed holding my legs up as he crawled toward my crotch. For the life of me, I couldn't move, couldn't do anything except lay there and watch. He propped my ankles on his shoulders while he tore open a rubber and rolled it on to his big rampant hardon. And then, taking his time, he lubed his cock and then my ass. He stuck a finger inside me and rubbed my prostate. 'It should be Charley doing this.' my mind screamed, but I moaned in pleasure, my cock hardened, surged and gushed precum. I needed this. I hated the need. I desired this. I despised the desire.

"Oh yeah, you are hungry for my cock. You fucking slut, you know you need this. I can see the hunger in your eyes. Oh yeah, I'm going to feed you my cock and you are going to love it."

"No, Yim, ease own' oo is." I wondered if he could even understand me.

He ignored my plea and moved up against me. I hadn't had my hole opened up in months and he hadn't prepared me for his assault. I screamed as he rammed his cock to the hilt. The drug he'd given me didn't do anything for the pain, if anything it intensified it because all I could do was lay there and feel it.

He chuckled. "That's the nice thing about those little pills, it lets you feel everything." He pulled back and rammed again. "This'll teach you to run away from your needs, Jakey boy." My sphincter hadn't had a chance to relax and adjust to being stretched. I screamed again.

I fought the paralysis to no avail. I could do nothing, but lay there, as Jim rammed his cock into me. My protests came out as guttural grunts and groans. He bit and sucked on my neck and shoulders as he battered my butt, ramming his hard cock against my prostate. I loved the feeling, the harder the better.

As he came he bit hard, into the muscle above my left nipple, drawing blood. I cried out in exquisite pain and pleasure as I shot all over the two of us. I had never come so hard in my life. He grinned at me, his lips bloody. "That should make up for all the times you've missed." He licked his lips, smearing the blood.

Abruptly, he ripped his still hard cock out of my abused hole. I felt so empty. My heart and soul had been reamed out, hollowed. I was a vacuous hole. My eyes closed of their own volition at the sudden emptiness and I drifted into a drugged post coital sleep.

"You told me you wouldn't let him fuck you again. You broke your word. You lied to me." With each sentence I could feel Charley's fist punch me in the chest. Chagrined, I begged his forgiveness. I tried to touch him. I couldn't. He stayed just out of reach. I awoke with the image of Charley's reproachful glare seared into my brain and his accusations ringing in my ears.

The sky was just beginning to lighten. The drug hadn't completely released its grip on my muscles. It took great effort to drag myself off the bed and onto my feet. Jim had long gone. I shuffled into the bathroom and collapsed onto the toilet. There wasn't enough strength in my legs to stand and pee. As my bladder drained, I felt cold liquid running through the hair on my belly. I felt my chest. Jim's used condom was glued in my chest hair with my own dried come. It was leaking its cold contents down my belly.

Disgusted, I yanked it away, taking hair with it. Memory of last night slammed into me. Rage filled my mind. I stood and shuffled over to the mirror and looked at myself. My mind gorged with self-loathing, a mindless black anger. I had teeth marks and hickeys on my neck and shoulders. Dried cum flaked on my chest and abdomen. My abused nipples were raw, red, and too tender to touch. On my left breast there was an inflamed bite encrusted with dried black blood. I remembered the intensity of the pain and the pleasure as I had shot my load. I loathed myself for reacting to it.

I slunk into the shower where I soaped and scrubbed myself thoroughly. I did it again, and then again. I still felt dirty. I dried off and examined the wound, dabbed it with peroxide and watched it foam. Then I smeared an ointment on it and got dressed, putting on a collared chambray work shirt to hide the marks on my neck. I grabbed the county phone book and searched for an address of a country feed store. Finding it, I mounted my motorcycle and sped across the city to the far outskirts where the farms began. Everything I did took great effort. My muscles were still lethargic. Only my anger kept me going.

I had let Jim dominate me through our whole relationship. He'd never done anything to humiliate or degrade me before. We both knew I was bigger and probably stronger, and that it was just a role he liked to play. He'd chosen to not only subjugate me, but to also savagely rape me, showing his contempt for me. I had told Charley that I would not go back to Jim. My word had been broken. And, God damn Jim, he was going to pay. Having been raised on a farm I knew exactly what I wanted to do to him for payback. I bought a package containing ten of the little black jewels that would accomplish my intentions, plus the shiny chrome tool to apply them. Jim was going to pay dearly for destroying my life. It was only going to take one of the ten tiny harmless-looking black rubber rings.

I went back to my apartment and changed into my tightest black Levi's and a snug cowboy shirt with pearl snaps down the front. The three top snaps I left undone. My acting ability isn't the greatest, but I figured it wouldn't take much to get Jim all hot and distracted. And once he was, I told myself, it would be his last time. Stuffing the tool and the little package into my hip pocket, I headed over to his place. His little house sat in a big lot with a tall unpenetratable hedge around the perimeter. Privacy was his main concern when he bought the place and it was going to be that privacy that was going let me get away with what I was set on doing.

To hide my rage, I tried my best to look humble and beaten. I knocked on his door. He stared at me for a moment when he opened it, then threw his head back and laughed at me. "I knew it. You couldn't stay away once you got a taste of my cock again. Get your ass in here, you slut." he sneered.

I shuffled in, keeping my head down. I was afraid to look up for fear he'd see the anger in my eyes. He closed the door and looked me up and down. "Didn't get enough last night, huh?" He grabbed my shirt with both hands and ripped open the snaps. If they had been buttons they'd have flown across the room. "God damn, I did a good number on you last night. It's going to take a month for those marks to disappear." With both hands, he pinched my tender raw nipples. I squinched my eyes in pain, threw my head back and roared. With all the strength I could muster, I brought my fists up, fast and hard. My right fist connected with his jaw. My left got him in his right eye. His head flew back with the impact. He staggered, then crumpled.

I grabbed him by one wrist and dragged him into his bedroom. Picking him up, I tossed him into the middle of his unmade bed. He had permanent leather straps attached to the four corners of his bed. I tied his wrists with the two on the head board. I pulled his boots off, unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them off along with his underwear. After tying his ankles with the two straps on the foot board I went to the kitchen and filled a glass with ice water and headed back to the bedroom.

I stared at Jim's inert body for several minutes thinking about what he had robbed me of last night. There was no way I would ever be able to face Charley again; he had made sure of that. I wanted him awake and alert for my revenge. I wanted him to be able to strain and pull helplessly against the restraints. I wanted him to know there was no getting away from his fate. I tilted the glass above his head and watched a trickle of icy water splatter on his forehead. He shook his head, gasped and sputtered. I poured a little more on his chest wetting his shirt. It took him a moment to come around.

He opened his confused eyes. Not believing he was tied up, he yanked against the straps, "What the fuck," he bellowed, as he tried to move. He glared at me. "Untie me and I'll forget you did this," he said, through gritting teeth.

I smiled benignly at him. In a calm unemotional voice, I said. "There's no forgetting, Jim. There is no forgiving either. You took my life away from me last night. Now you get to lose..... to lose something that you hold most dear."

He snorted. "You think tying me up and fucking me is going to do anything? I love a rough fuck. Rape away, Jake." His cock began to harden and throb at the idea.

"I'm not going to rape you, Jim," I explained to him. "I'm going to gentle you, remove your aggressiveness, if you will. I'm going to make a docile steer out of a raging bull. Do you understand what I am saying, Jim? I'm going to geld you."

"What does geld mean?" His voice squeaked with panic. He obviously knew what a steer is.

"Just what you're imagining, Jim. It means castrate."

He had blanched. "Please, no, Jake. I'm sorry. I thought you would enjoy the helpless feeling, that you would like what I did, that it was what you wanted." His hardon had disappeared. His cock was shrinking, pulling into his body.

"What I wanted?" I roared, incredulous. "I told you what I wanted and you ignored me. You selfishly took what you wanted and left me with nothing. Nothing, Jim." My voice dropped to a mere whisper. " Do you think there is any way I can face Charley after I promised him I would not let you fuck me again?"

"I'll tell him I forced you. I'll tell him I drugged you. It was all my fault. He can't blame you for what I did. Please, Jake, untie me." He was whimpering.

I'd regained control of myself, reached down and touched the glass of ice water to his scrotum. He yelped and tried to pull away. "Enjoy the sensation, Jim, because in a few minutes you'll never feel anything on them again." I was amazed at how calm I suddenly felt.

"Don't, Jake, don't cut me. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please don't, Jake. Please." Snot leaked out of his nose.

I grinned at him. In a friendly conversational voice, I asked, "By the way, Jim, do you have any more of the little pills you sneaked into my beer last night?" I touched the glass to his balls again, he flinched, but didn't try to pull away.

"Why?" he asked.

"I think you might enjoy one about now." I could see the panic in his eyes. "Answer me," I snapped.

He gulped. "There's three in a vial in my pants pocket."

"Thank you," I said, picking up his jeans and rifling in the pockets for the vial. I held it up and admired it. "Amazing, how one of these little pills will paralyze your muscles and leave your mind alert. For how many hours did you say, Jim?"

"About s-s-s-six hours," he stammered.

I smiled at him. "Ah, that should be long enough for this to work. Yeah, your balls should be black by then."

"What are you talking about?"

"I guess a demonstration is in order. But first I think you should swallow one of these little gems. I want you to feel the helplessness as your testicles shrivel and die." I said, opening the vial, shaking a pill out into my palm. I picked it up and held it up for him to see. "Open up, Jimmy."

He clamped his jaw and belligerently stared at me. His one eye nearly swollen closed. I palmed the pill, grasped his jaw and squeezed, forcing his mouth open. I stuck my pinched finger and thumb far back into his throat, far enough back that he couldn't tell that I hadn't deposited the pill there, and then I picked up the glass of ice water and poured a bit into his mouth. "Swallow," I commanded. He tried to shake his head in refusal, but I held his mouth open and poured more water into it until he had to swallow or drown. He swallowed, choked and coughed. I let go of his jaw.

His eyes enlarged with the horror at what he thought was going to happen to him. "You're fucking crazy, Jake," he whispered.

"Watch you mouth, Jim. I could still use a dull knife on you." I said as I dropped the palmed pill on the floor and crushed it under my heel. I took the tool and the little package from my back pocket, and held them up for him to see. They looked so innocent, so harmless. "I'm not going to cut you, Jim. I don't like blood."

He looked at the tool. "What's that?" he asked. Fear filled his voice.

I smiled at him. "Think of it as your pacifier. Now we will demonstrate how this little wonder works," I said, holding up the tool. I opened the little zip-lock package and removed one of the small O-rings. It had a 3/16th inch hole. I held it up for him to see.

"What's that?" he asked. His voice quavered with fear.

"You know how a cock ring holds the blood in your cock to keep it hard? Well, this little ring does just the opposite. It's going to keep the blood out until your cock and balls simply shrivel up and fall off from lack of blood. It's painless I'm told."

"There's no way you could get that over my cock and balls," he scoffed, wanting to not believe me.

"No? Watch." I inserted the end of the bright chromed tool through the hole and squeezed the handle, which opened the yawning jaws, opening the ring open to a little over two inches. Jim blanched. I moved down to his crotch.

"No, Jake. Don't, Jake. Please, I'm begging you," he blubbered and struggled against the restraints.

"Did you stop last night when I begged?" I looked at him. I could see that any hope had disappeared from his eyes. He just quietly blubbered and shook his head. "So..... tell me why I should stop."

He stared at me with no comprehension.

I grinned. "Are you beginning to feel the effects of the pill yet, Jimbo?" I asked. He continued his vacant stare.

"You know what? I think I'll let you keep your penis. It would be too much if you had to sit to pee. Maybe you'll still be able to get a hard on. I suppose you can get testosterone injections. Maybe Viagra will work on you. But, before I do this, I want to tell you..... you'd better think twice before you ever consider taking advantage of someone again,. I'm keeping this little gadget. This time you lose only your balls, next time it will be that big ol' cock you're so fond of. Do you understand me? And I'm keeping these other two pills, too. Just in case you forget."

"You're crazy, Jake." he whispered.

I grinned at him. "Yeah, I am, Jim. Don't ever forget that."

His shriveled cock had pulled back into his body. Only the head showed. I didn't know that such a big long thing could do that. The power of fear, I guess. I gently took his balls in my hand, fondling them. "Such a loss," I said, squeezing them. He groaned and shuddered, his face contorted in fear and horror.

I picked up the tool and squeezed the handle, expanding the ring again and locked it open. I carefully slipped his testicles through the distended ring. Wrapping my fingers around them, I pulled them, stretching his scrotum, and pressed the dilated ring against the base of his cock. I released the lock on the tool. The O-ring popped off the prongs and constricted around the top of his scrotum. He whimpered.

I stepped back and smiled benignly. "I guess you won't be raping anyone else, will you?" I asked.

His forehead glistened with sweat. He gaped at me like I was some kind of monster. His bladder released and geysered urine into the air. It spattered his belly and trickled down to wet his sheets. I watched him for several minutes. "Can you feel the numbness creeping into your muscles?" I asked.

His expression of horror didn't change, but he didn't seem to be there behind his eyes.

I began to feel ashamed of myself. Although, I had nothing to live for at that point, I knew I was better than that. I sighed. I was still seething with anger, but I couldn't go through with it. Still, I wanted him to remember. "I tell you what, Jim. I'm going to give you a chance to save your precious nuts. I'm going to untie one of your hands. Maybe you can get loose and cut the ring before the paralysis sets in."

I reached down and untied one wrist. He immediately reached to untie the other one. I grabbed his arm and pulled it back. He squawked and gawked at me. I sat beside him and caressed the back of his hand. "Remember, I'll be watching you, Jimmy. I have nothing left to live for, so I won't be losing anything by killing you if you try to retaliate. Understood?" He glowered at me. "Understood?" I asked again.

He nodded his head.

I let go of his arm. I stuffed the tool and package of O-rings along with the vial into my back pocket, closed the snaps on my shirt and walked out of the room. I could hear his harsh breathing as he scrambled to release himself from the leather straps. I opened the door and left.

I'd had my revenge on Jim. I'd scared the unholy hell out of him, but hadn't physically harmed him. I knew he would have no trouble getting free. He had surgical scalpels in his house. One touch of a sharp blade and the rubber ring would split. Of course, the blood flowing back into his nuts was going to be a feeling he wouldn't soon forget.