Chapter 5 - part 1
Jack looked over to the uniformed figure gesturing him to come over. Shit. Everyone was gettin changed into their kit and no-one paid any attention. He reluctantly padded over in his bare feet, bare chested, jeans undone at the top.
The burly officer moved right up to him and spoke quietly into his ear. 'Think it's about time we continued our little chat, don't you think? You can wait here after the game. Enjoy yer runabout...' Jack, all outward calm and inward turmoil, turned to go as fast as was nonchalantly possible. 'Oh, and Kenton?'
'It's "Yeah SIR". Don't fuckin forget it.' The man stared daggers at him. A pause.
The officer raised an eyebrow and nodded the lad to carry on getting changed.
What shit fuckin timing. Of all the days, this one... He was still emotionally charged up from stuff this morning and vivid imaginings of what was to come tonight, and now that stupid cunt had thrown a spanner into the works. Well, whatever it was the fucker wanted, Jack would just have to grit his teeth and deal with it. No point kickin up a fuss: too risky.
Preoccupied, he didn't play quite as fluently as usual, though it was still good enough for him to score. The weather was finally starting to turn; a storm brewing out west somewhere, gleaming towers of cloud with dark underbellies looming over the barbed wire. Muggy. They all sweated like pigs. He saw the man standing with arms folded and wearing a mocking grin and cursed him under his breath.
The final whistle. None of the usual high for Jack, just a despondent trudge. One of his team nudged him.
'Oi. Cheer up, mucker. Probably already happened, whatever it is!'
Jack faked a grin, hollow inside. Said nothing.
All too soon, the last of his footie mates were trooping out the door, Jack being deliberately slow putting his trainers back on. He knew the officer was standing nearby, and there was another figure with him.
'Come on Kenton, ain't got all fuckin day.'
Jack put his kit away and walked over. The bloke standing next to his tormentor he'd seen around, but not paid any attention to. 30 something, square-jaw, hint of stubble, greeny grey eyes, dark blond hair, impassive expression, solid sporty-lookin bloke, not chunky like the other fella; somewhat better lookin than the fucker he was standing next to, Jack grudgingly had to admit. Not that that was relevant. Still a screw. Not to be trusted.
'Cuff him Harry. We're headin down to three.'
Jack had no idea what that signified. The officer called Harry cuffed Jack's wrists behind him and led him out through a different door to a quiet corridor. From here Jack got completely lost in unfamiliar territory: various locked doors, harsh fluorescent lighting, institutionalised fear. He'd not realised just how huge this fuckin place was. All he knew was that they descended at least three levels. They passed a few other officers along the way. Matey greetings, nothing more. No questions about where Jack was being taken. Must be legit, he thought; or worse, this was par for the course.
They finally came to a series of doors on the left hand side of a relatively dimly-lit corridor. At one marked IR3 they stopped and the officer in charge unlocked it, went in and flicked on a strip light which buzzed and flickered slightly. The other one nudged Jack in. He heard the door being locked behind him.
A claustrophobic windowless room about twice the size of his cell, unfurnished except for a small wooden desk, behind which were several plastic chairs and in front of which was another. Jack nervously rubbed his teeth with his tongue, trying to get the saliva flowing in his dry mouth. He yearned for Sike to be there with him.
The lad, arms still cuffed behind, sat uncomfortably on the chair. The two uniformed men seated themselves behind the desk, the one called Harry taking out a notebook and pen. Jack wondered if maybe this wouldn't be quite as bad as he'd built it up to be. The presence of the younger bloke with his pen and paper seemed slightly more reassuring. Standard procedure. Questions he could fuckin deal with. Ain't tellin the fuckers nothin, dad; well, nothin useful...
The burly officer eyed his captive. Cute young fucker. He'd been waitin all week for this, but best to do things above board, with two of em present. Not only that, but he was showin Harry the ropes. Gettin him to join in would be a bit of a challenge, but everyone had to start somewhere. Harry had only been on the job a month.
'So, Kenton. What is it now, two weeks?'
'Sir.' A disdainful look.
'Now I think you might remember our previous conversation?' A nod. 'Good. So you know why we're havin this little chat then?'
'Not really... Sir.' Jack deliberately delayed the last word to indicate his contempt for the man. Being a bit cocky was the best way to overcome the fear. He stared him out. Ugly, squashed, rough face, tight gelled hair; neck as thick as his head; hulking body squeezed into the familiar uniform. Shoulda been a club doorman mate. Arrogant tossers, the lot of em. You'd fit right in.
A pause. 'Riiiight... Well, let's just run over the details again shall we?'
Jack realised with a sinking certainty that of course this meant the other one was gonna find out what the other man knew, presuming he didn't know already. Was this gonna be written up in some official kind of report? Shit. (Fuck em, Jack. Don't stress about what's outta your control...) He said nothing.
'I've got an interest in Sike's activities, you might say. We know he organises deliveries n shit.' And he's a right cocky fucker too, thought the man. 'So... You must have seen a few things by now, yeah? Give me a little bit of the lowdown and, y'never know, I might think about makin your life easier...'
This was a completely fake line of questioning, mainly for Harry's benefit. The bent officer knew full well from the Guvnor that Sike had important connections of some kind and was therefore privileged. Nothing Jack could tell him would have made any difference. If ever anything came to light for any reason, it would be swept under the carpet as quickly as possible. But no matter, it would give him leverage here.
But Jack had no intention of revealing anything, of course. He wasn't gonna grass on his thug of a dad; he knew he was gettin looked after.
'Ain't seen nothin, sir. If there's anythin goin on, must be when I'm asleep or somewhere else.'
The man stared at him coldly, knowing the lad was lying, and felt a raw stab of jealousy that Sike and this cute kid had come to such a mutually beneficial arrangement. Sike had crossed him once before, some years ago; nothing major, but his pride had suffered. Payback had been a long time coming. Harry scribbled away.
'Nothing unusual at all?'
'I see... Well, that's all very interesting, Kenton, because I know for a fact that Sike has made it known you're not to be messed with, which is pretty good goin considerin what happened to the last one in there with him.' The man twisted the knife with a nasty grin.
Jack stared, trying not to look surprised. What the fuck? This was news to him. He tried to look calm. You're fuckin bluffin, mate... But then, knowing Sike's temper and what had happened this morning, it sounded entirely plausible. He remembered what he'd been told: seriously lucky or seriously unlucky. Hmmmm...
'I also know for a fact that you're doin sexual favours for him, cause I've fuckin seen yer.'
Harry looked up from his pad. Huh? He stared at the lad with a mixture of fascination and disgust. In his tabloid-info world, queers were justabout OK as long as they were identifiably different and, preferably, somewhere else. This one looked much too fuckin normal.
Jack's hackles rose, despite the situation. He wasn't goin down without a fight, not with someone else writin it all down.
'Like I told yer before, I'm fuckin straight, yeah? He forced me to do it. And I ain't gonna argue with him, am I?' The events of the early morning flashed through his mind and he gave a heartfelt laugh of derision. 'I'd be fuckin dead meat.'
Jack thought he sounded pretty convincing. The buzz of the light filled the claustrophobic room as they stared one another out. He sniffed away an itch on his face, unable to scratch.
'A-ha. So, errrrr... wankin yerself off while he shoves his hard meat in yer gob is what a straight lad would do, is it?'
Jack had to lie, but having had plenty of time to think about an answer to this question if it came up his reply was quick and to the point. 'I was fuckin tryin to think about somethin else, weren't I? Anything to take me fuckin mind off it. int fuckin easy.'
The interrogating officer eyed him suspiciously and idly drummed his meaty fingers on the desk. It was almost possible that was true... Still, it didn't really change matters much.
Harry, meanwhile, was confused; having just assumed the lad was a queer, it now seemed as if he wasn't. Certainly didn't look or sound like one, for sure. He had no idea what was goin on. The lad clearly hadn't denied it, but from what he'd seen in his short time workin here (and from what he'd heard too), Sike was a proper hard nut, bit of a mentallist. Everyone was wary of him. There was no way was he a fuckin bender... So why? Made no sense. Except what... Frustration? Punishment?
'So all that stuff about it bein fuckin tasty?'
Jack scowled at his interregator. You're fuckin scum, mate.
'I've fuckin learnt to act, ain't I? It's what he wants to hear. He wants me to fuckin beg for it like some dirty bitch... Gives him a kick.' That much was true. What was also true was that Jack got just as big a kick from his dad's intimidation and domination, and even now was gettin a little hard just thinkin about having to submit to that king-size meat... The fat, juicy dick dangling in front of his face... Gonna make it feel reeeeal good for yer, dad. Fuck yeahhhh... He snapped out of it. Focus, focus...
The buzz hung in the air above. Harry's pen paused in his hand, the unwanted image lingering too long in his head. The interrogating officer fixed Jack again with his unfriendly stare. The trap closed in.
'OK.' He leaned forward over the desk. 'So why haven't you made a complaint or asked to be moved?'
Jack had stupidly not considered this fairly obvious line of inquiry. He stared into the oncoming headlights. Shit. He blinked, twice. Prickles of fear sent goosebumps up his neck.
'Surely if what you're sayin is true, you'd want something done about it, hmmm?'
Jack exploded with nervous anger. 'I don't fuckin know how things work here, do I? Only fuckin been here a few weeks.'
'Alright, alright.' The man sat back again and raised his hands in mock defence. 'Keep yer fuckin hair on, son... What there is of it.' A wry grin. 'I hear what yer sayin. It's OK. Do you want to be moved somewhere else?'
The man deliberately made it sound like he was being helpful, but of course he was being nothing of the sort. It was his way of testing the lad's story, which he rightly suspected wasn't legit. The tainted offer echoed around Jack's skull, taunting him. Answering yes was out of the question; answering no would condemn him in the eyes of the two officers. He cursed his inability to think the logic of his argument through far enough. Fuck fuck fuck. He did the only thing possible and said nothing. The cuffs chafed his wrist.
The buzz was broken by the scrape of the burly officer's chair as he stood up. He walked round to stand near Jack and stood, arms folded, hulking frame looming menacingly over the seated teenager. His words were quiet and deliberate. 'I'd call that a no, wouldn't you Harry?' He turned to his inexperienced colleague, who caught his glance and gave a quick nod of agreement. 'And if it's a no, that means you're fuckin lying to me Kenton.'
'I ain't fuckin lying to yer, sir.' The lad tried to keep the fear from his voice, and refused to look at him, loathing of the man welling deep within his gut. The proximity was unnerving and he remembered the sudden punch in the changing room. More goosebumps. The summer warmth didn't make it this far down underground, it seemed.
'Right Kenton, you explain to me why a straight lad wants to stay in a cell where he's bein forced to give head and swallow the juice. This had better be good.'
Jack was thinking frantically. What could he say? The seconds ticked uncomfortably past. He shook his head as if imagining the consequences. 'If I move he'll fuckin kill me first chance he gets. I know he will.'
Harry could see that something didn't add up here, but he felt a little sorry for the lad all the same. Still, the adrenaline was flowing nicely now and he felt like something was gonna kick off. No one else was gonna know if they just had a little rough fun with him down here, would they? He waited to see what his training officer would do. Show him the acceptable limits...
'Nahhh. We could move you properly if it really mattered, and you know it. I think you just don't wanna go, do you Kenton? And the reason you don't wanna go is...' He leaned down, voice low and accusing. '...cause you're enjoyin what he's doin to yer.'
Jack couldn't help himself. The rage in his head was too much. 'You don't know what the fuck you're talkin about sir.'
The officer's anger boiled over at this and he shoved Jack violently sideways with a growl. Unable to put his hands out to stop himself, the lad fell and landed awkwardly on the cold floor, bruising his right shoulder. It was the same arm which had been twisted this morning by Sike. He yelped loudly and muttered
'Aaghh. Fuck. Y'fuckin cunt. I'll fuckin report yer.' All too aware of his vulnerability, the lad forced himself up to a sitting position and glared up at the bullying officer whose mean face was screwed up with ferocious intent. He pointed a finger at the lad on the floor.
'Don't you ever fuckin speak to an officer like that again, Kenton. Ever. You hear me? You fuckin treat us with respect.' He aggressively kicked away the chair toward the door, where it clattered to a halt on its side.
Jack grimaced as he tried to stand up, his head swimming. His teeth were still gritted. 'Sir.'
Harry had stood up the moment the lad hit the floor, thinking he ought to get involved. His training officer had just asked him to write statements down and do whatever he was asked to do, but this stuff had to be off the record surely? He walked round and stood leaning against the front of the desk, arms folded. Keen to show willing, but wondering just where this was going...
'Think you need to learn some respect, yeah?'
Jack had just about managed to get up, and stood, slightly unfocussed, the hated authority figure at close range. His body was tense. 'Not lyin sir. Really ain't.'
The officer spat in Jack's face. He addressed his sidekick with a sneer. 'Y'hear that Harry? "Not lyin"... He must think we're fuckin idiots?' He slyly winked at the trainee officer and turned back to the lad. 'Do you think we're fuckin idiots, Kenton?'
'No sir. I'm just...' The lad's mumble tailed off as he realised this exchange would get him nowhere. The spit had run down his cheek to his chin. His shoulder fuckin hurt. Fuck it, let's just get this over as quickly as possible...
'Nahhhh, I think you fuckin do. You think you can spout any old bullshit and we'll just fall for it, hmmm? I warned you before never to lie to me again, Kenton, dint I? You're gonna fuckin pay the price for it now. Admit it, you enjoy suckin the meat.' The officer's eyes blazed.
The strip light flickered slightly. Jack's breaths came loud and heavy in the small room. He wasn't gonna give this cunt the satisfaction. 'I just do what I'm told, sir.' The lad knew exactly where this was all going. He'd guessed it would all along.
'And you like doin what yer told...'
'I like not gettin me 'ead kicked in... Sir'
The man glared at his stubborn captive. Why wouldn't he just fuckin admit it? He felt the fury flare again. 'You fuckin want it more than you're lettin on, Kenton. And I'm gonna prove it. Get on yer fuckin knees.'
Jack, his eyes fixed on the uniformed figure, shook his head slowly, even though he knew resistance was futile. His pride was at stake.
'On... yer fuckin... knees.'
Jack glanced at the other officer, who was watching his colleague with a slightly stunned expression. Harry returned the glance, and in that instant Jack immediately sensed the junior officer's alarm and uncertainty. You're not a fuckin homo, are yer mate? Why don't you fuckin stop this? But Harry's conscience crumbled; he knew which side he had to be on here. He looked back at his training officer and kept quiet.
'I won't say it again, Kenton...'
Jack caved in, carefully lowering himself to his knees. The room seemed to swim slightly. Come on then, you chunky fucker, show us what you got.
Harry watched. Surely this was just bluffing? No, it fuckin wasn't... Shit. The burly officer was unzipping himself and reaching inside for his tackle. Still soft, deliberately so; the man had the sense to control his excitement.
Not as big as Sike, are yer? Despite his disgust, Jack grinned inwardly. He could fuckin deal with this; he'd had plenty of practice these past few weeks. He looked up and away from the man's pumping fist.
'You do know I'll fuckin report yer for this, don'tcha?'
The man sneered at him. 'You can fuckin try! But I'm tellin yer now the guvnor don't give a shit as long as everything in here runs smoothly, so you'll be wastin yer time. Besides, it'd be terrible if word got out about you and Sike, wouldn't it?' He stared down, smug and threatening. 'Am I makin myself clear?'
The buzz of the light again filled the silence. Jack glared at him, eyes narrowed. There was no way round that one. The fucker had him. 'Yes... Sir.'
Definitely a fuckin homo, no doubt about it, thought Jack... But wary of further violence, he kept this to himself. He noticed Harry still looking decidedly uncomfortable. Really not into this shit, is he? Hmmmm... Jack realised he might have a little power game of his own to play, after all.
'Good. Glad we er... understand each other, Kenton. So, how'd you like a fuckin taste of this then, huh? Another tool to get yer chops round. You wanna piece o that?'
Harry was staring with his mouth hanging slightly open. He shifted awkwardly against the desk and folded his arms tighter. Was this really happenin? His training officer was standing wanking his hardening meat just a few feet away from the lad's face.
Jack wasn't givin in just yet. 'Like I fuckin told yer. I'll do it if I ain't got a fuckin choice... Sir.' The words came out with undisguised venom, and then the grenade... 'No way I'm suckin both o yer though.'
Red rag to a bull. 'Oh yeah? You will if I fuckin make yer, Kenton.'
Ha, thought the lad. The idiot had fallen for it. Let's make sure though...
'No I fuckin won't. He doesn't want to...' a quick glance at Harry '...and you can't fuckin make me.'
Harry nervously shifted his balance again. The lad was spot on. This had all gone very fuckin weird. Just a little bit of rough treatment was what he'd been led to expect here; nothin out of the ordinary. He'd been kinda lookin forward to it. But this shit was well crossing the line. Trouble was, he really, really needed the job and was still effectively on his probation period. Things were so tough out there at the moment. Wife n kids to support. Mortgage to pay... He kept his silence.
'We'll see about that... Now stop fuckin talkin and open that mouth of yours.' Jack did as he was told and the hulking brute stepped up to him, his fat stubby meat eager for action. 'What yer waitin for, you little cunt? Suck my fuckin prick.'
Jack leaned forward and cautiously began to service the officer's weapon; a slight involuntary shudder as his tongue made contact with it. It was fat alright, and he had to stretch his jaw to accomodate, but it wasn't very long compared to his dad's. Fuckin strange having a different piece of meat in his gob. Tasted weird. He licked around the bulbous head, trying to suppress the urge to bite into it.
'Yeah, you fuckin like that, don't ya Kenton? Knew you would...' He cuffed Jack around the head. 'Plenty around in this place who'd fuck yer face if you asked em nicely enough; they're all a bit pussy starved, y'know, so you'd be right popular. Maybe I'll introduce you to some of em personally. Would you like that?'
The lad sensed it wasn't an empty threat. Another cold shiver ran through him. The man swiped at him again with rough disregard. Lights flashed in his peripheral vision.
'I said would you fuckin like that, Kenton? I'm sure we could get a good half a dozen or so together one afternoon; they could take it in turns...'
This terrifying vision lodged in the lad's skull. A shake of the head in denial. He didn't look up.
'Oh I think you're keener than you make out.' He felt a surge of pleasure as the lad's tongue licked all around his bulging head. 'You're really quite good at this, intcha? Almost as good as you are scorin goals. Musta had plenty o practice lately. Hehe.' The man grinned at his own sadistic humour.
A clench of cuffed fists. He imagined his dad decking the fucker. Straight down...
'Bet you're good at takin it up the other end too, eh?'
Jack shook his head again, more vigorously, and made a muffled noise of disagreement. He wasn't gonna agree to anything this cunt said if he could fuckin help it.
'Yeah, whatever. Oi, Harry, you should try some o this. He's a talented little cocksucker. Come ere and give him a piece o yours.'
Harry was staring at the action with disturbed fascination. The sight of the teenager being made to suck on the older man's tool was still freaking him out, but at the same time the aggressive domination of the scene was captivating. A straight lad takin the worst kind of punishment. He was slowly starting to see a few advantages to it now: nothing visible to explain away later, no awkward questions... Didn't mean he actually wanted to get involved though.
'Errrrr. No mate. That's, errr... OK. You keep right on there.'
Jack let the fat prick fall out of his mouth and, despite knowing it would earn him trouble, taunted his captor. 'Told yer he didn't fuckin want it.' He allowed himself a small grin of satisfaction.
The officer swiped the lad's head viciously once more. 'Shut the fuck up, Kenton.' The man reached down and gripped the lad's chin, squeezed hard so that Jack was forced to open up, and plugged his stiff urgent meat back in. 'Harry, don't be such a fuckin pussy. We're just teachin the fucker a lesson. Now come over ere and feed him yer meat.' The tone of the man's voice made it clear that refusing was not an option.
Harry hesitated, his mouth suddenly very dry. He knew he was in no position to argue. He reluctantly unzipped his trouser fly and reached inside. Couldn't quite believe he was doing this, but he just couldn't risk the job... He pulled his meat out and began tugging at it, thinking about a sexy brunette who he kept seeing at the local bus-stop... His ideal type. Imagined forcing her to her knees... Fuck no. That was bad. Shouldn't be rough with a girl like that. He tried to maintain the division in his head between one of his safe straight fantasies and what was happening now, but just couldn't do it. In desperation, he gazed aggressively down at his prick and imagined it as a weapon. Just like he had once before... It began to swell.
'Yeahhhhh. Bring that over ere. Just take a look what Harry's got for yer, Kenton.'
Jack again let the burly officer's tool slip from his lips and turned to witness the fit one's revealed sex coming to life in the man's hands. Soft, it was getting on for the length of his dad's, if not quite as thick. Smooth, sleek n cut. One sexy motherfuckin dick you got there, mate... He felt slivers of bad desire and anticipation force their way into his tense body as he watched it harden and grow. Longer. Longer still. He wet his tongue some more and swallowed nervously. Shit. That was gonna go deep. And the guy was being fuckin forced to feed it to him. What the fuck have you done, Jack? Wasn't one bad enough? He saw the wedding ring on the man's left hand... Yeah, he's for real.
'Fuck. That's a biggun. I can't fuckin swallow all that.' Keep actin the part, Jack. You don't want this, remember?
The older officer grinned, rubbing his throbbing member. Yeahhhh. You're gonna fuckin choke on it... Harry's dick was bigger n better than he had hoped for. He regarded it enviously, wishing he was as well-endowed. This was gonna be fuckin good sport to watch.
'Only one way to find out, Kenton.'
The lad stared with lustful confusion at the straight screw's sexy tackle, the man's tight hairy nuts lurking behind, nudging out from his zip fly. The heady promise of some serious facefucking set his heart thumping wildly. Oh yeahhh... Gonna give you the best fuckin blow job you ever had, mate... Gonna make you want more... Fuck yeahhh. His instincts howled in the darkness, fighting against his willing submission to the unnatural act. He silenced them with well-rehearsed logic: it's not like you got a fuckin choice in the matter, Jack. Prison rules. Power rules. Just go with the fuckin flow... Doesn't mean you're a fuckin homo.
Harry looked on, as much a prisoner of circumstance as the lad. This is so fucked up, he thought. What the hell am I doing? It's fuckin insane. Felt like the light was buzzing inside his fucking head.
'See that Kenton? That's what queerboys like you dream about it, innit?'
Jack slowly shook his head and spoke through gritted teeth. 'I'm. Fuckin. Straight.' The officer cuffed him again for his insolence.
'Yeahhhh right. Enough crap already. Open that gob o yours...' Jack paused. Another strike. Stars wheeled around. 'Fuckin open it.' He finally did as he was told, his disbelieving eyes fixed again on the prize. Here it fuckin comes. 'Fuckin feed it to him, Harry.'
Harry's held his breath as he carefully slid the shiny head of his lengthy meat between the lad's waiting lips, unable to take his eyes off the impossible sight. Oh shit. I'm fuckin doin it, he thought. I'm really fuckin doin it now. Fuckin look at that. The lad's mouth was workin it keenly, gentle smooth tongue teasing it in just the right way, coaxing it in. Oh shit man. Shit. My prick's in his mouth. Feels fuckin good. Yeahhhh. Fuckin good. He pushed further in.
'Shiiiiiiit. He's takin it. He's fuckin takin it.'
A sudden rush of blood brought his shaft to full strength. He began to slowly thrust it in time with the lad's own eager sucking rhythm. Mmmmmmmmm. That's so fuckin good. He instinctively reached down to stroke the youth's buzz-cut hair. Man. That feels fuckin nice. Fuuuuckin niiiice.