The Biohazard Bus

[Toon]

 

(names have been changed)

1985

Who knows how urban legends get started? In the little Nebraska town (which could hardly be called 'urban') I grew up in, there was a story about an evil green skeleton that lived in the creek next to our grade school. He's grab you if you got too close to the water and then drown you. The origins and details kept changing over the years and supposedly, somebody had an actual picture of it. Our playground came right up to the chain link fence that kept us away from the creek. The boys made a game of who could get closest to fence. I once made it within two feet of it before running back. Our bravest, most toughest kid went all the way up and actually touched the fence! We couldn't hardly believe it. Years later, I spent the night at Kenny Grossmon's house and we snuck out at night and went to creek. Kenny had brought a flashlight and a little bottle of water he got from the bathroom at the Nazarene church. It sort of was like holy water as far as we were concerned. There were wild weeds and scrub trees surrounding the creek. We were both acting and talking casual, but we were both scared. We made it close enough to hear the water before a branch or something snapped and the sound made us run all the way back to his house where we watched Elvira and didn't talk about what we'd done.

1995

So I'm in my early 20's now and living in a big city, far away from the green skeleton. I work in a warehouse for a chemical company. I'd majored in English, but this job paid way more than anything I could make teaching. I wrote embarrassingly bad poetry sometimes, but never had dreams of showing it anybody or ever being published. I'd found my way into the gay world -- mainly from going to bars and meeting guys in my neighborhood. I'd even had dates here and there, but never any sex. AIDS showed no signs of ever going away or even being treated effectively. I didn't trust condoms because they could break. I once bought a box of them and played with them. They were just so fragile. 

It was from a friend of mine that I first heard about 'The Biohazard Bus'. Another urban legend that kept changing and was the subject of many bar conversations. Supposedly, there was a bus full of HIV+ men who would drive around the streets at night and capture guys right off the sidewalk. They'd all take turns raping the victim with no condoms on. It sounded so fake. I mean -- a whole bus?? How did they ever not get caught? The details were sketchy and ever changing. No, it was a van. No, it was an SUV. No, it was a stretch limo. The green skeleton sounded more legit than this bus. I finally got connected to the internet which provided me with a whole new way to waste my time. It was so primitive in those days, but I found a local bulletin board for gays and lesbians. It was mostly about community events, parades and charity stuff. There was one headline about the Biohazard Bus with 398 posts. I went right to the last few to see if there were any new developments. It was then that I realized I was maybe a little too curious about this.

  Keno: I know a guy who got abducted by them. He was coming out of Chuckie's by himself.

  Cub31: That is a shit bar. It's on Highland Street which is where many bad things can happen to you. People get shot.

  Keno: Only walk out of any bar with somebody else with you.

I had never heard of the bar they were talking about. Or Highland Street. Why oh why was so drawn to this story? Danger and sex are an intriguing combo, I guess. There was a part of myself I was denying at that point. I will tell you that I was pretty sure I'd end up at Chuckie's eventually. I just had to find it. I started by searching the yellow pages for any businesses on Highland Street. There wasn't anything listed. I asked around. My seedy neighbor -who I'm almost sure was a drug dealer - knew where it was. 

"That area is pretty dicey. Your car will get stolen." He gave me some general directions. Back then, our city's downtown had been decimated by the suburbs and malls. I didn't even know if the streetlights worked there. My heart sped up at the thought of driving there. I decided I'd try and go to Chuckie's during the daytime. A Saturday afternoon, possibly. Was noon too early? I didn't know much about anything back then. It was a sunny June afternoon (around 2 PM) that I ventured out. I kept forgetting to breathe. You'd think alarms would flash in my brain or something...or that common sense would kick in. Nope. I passed the little bar called Chuckie's. twice. I couldn't do this. Maybe if I knew judo or something, I'd feel safer. This place was scary enough in the day...what the hell would it be like at night?? At least I knew where it was now. Fuck it. I parked right around the corner from the bar. "I'll have one beer and then go home," I told the scared,pale boy looking back at me in the rear view mirror. 

I can't even remember how I made it to the front door. I was technically sober, but nerves made me sort of stumble a little. A beer would be so good now. I'd earned it. 

Chuckie's was super dark and smoky. Not very crowded at all. The bartender was a jolly-looking guy in his late 40's/early 50's. "Hi! You here for the bust?" The bust? Did he think I was a cop or something? 

"The bust?"

"Beer bust. For ten dollars you get a cup and all the beer you can drink. How old are you?"

"24."

"I'll believe you. I'll give you a discount...7.50. You get a free shot at the top of every hour -- which you just missed. I'll start you out with a freebie. It's nice to see a new face in here." I handed him a ten and got my mini cup of beer and complimentary shot. I was new at drinking, but I knew you did the shot first and followed it with a chug beer. Right? OK. I relaxed a little. There was a Chuckie doll up against the mirror behind the bartender. My guess is that this place had been named before the 'Child's Play' movie came out, but they just went with it. To this day I still don't know how to 'fit in' and strike up conversations with people. I stayed put on the bar stool that had been mended with duck tape. I heard the familiar sound of a pinball game in the corner but it was next to a table of scary-looking guys. 

"How come I never seen you before?"

"I don't get out all that much. I needed to buy tires, but I got lost trying to find the place. I stopped here." Lie after lie poured out of my mouth. The truth was too sick.

"No tire places around here. I'm Leslie, by the way. I've been here for years."

"I'm Jeff. I moved here three months ago. It's not that busy today."

"It'll pick up. Most beer busts take place on Sundays, but we changed ours to Saturday. The guy who owns this place is a mafia son with a coke habit...he wants to start making more money. Plus...."

I waited.

"Plus this area is the subject of many rumors." A-ha! He knew about the urban legend. I played dumb.

"Rumors?"

"Oh, nothing. You know how queens love to gossip."

Leslie and I talked for a while as he kept refilling my cup and sneaking me extra shots. I began losing track of how many I'd had. I'd need to leave while the sun was still out. "Well...it's getting late, Leslie. I should go."

"What? It's only 5:30. You got a hot date or something?"

"Nah. I just don't know the area very well and want to leave while it's still daytime. Plus -- I think I'm a little buzzed."

"The sun will be out for at least another two hours. We can always call you a cab...or have our bouncer escort you to your car." There was no bouncer among these guys. "His name is Nick and he's a huge guy. Nothing will happen to you."

Fine. I just needed to slow down with the beer. "Does that pinball game work?"

"Yep. It's brand new. Need quarters?" We made the exchange of bills for coins and he refilled my cup. I'd played this particular machine before. It was making the rounds, I guess.  The beer was giving me stomach acid. I should have asked for a coke. In a minute. I played a dollar's worth of quarters and racked up the top three scores. I didn't want to sit down so much as I didn't want to stand anymore. I turned to leave and saw Leslie talking into what I thought was a CB radio. No way. Here? He caught my eye for a quick second and put the microphone thingy  down. How weird. I walked about two steps before somebody grabbed my belt loop in the back. It was one of the scary guys I'd seen earlier. He had a Village People-type outfit on and was maybe in his 60's. 

"Have a seat." I didn't get a danger vibe from him. "I'm Butcher."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Jeff."

"Already heard that. You've been talked about since you came in." Was that good? Bad? 

"I...I guess I'm just new is all."

"You need another beer, Jeff. So do I." He held up two fingers and Leslie scrambled right over with a pitcher to refill us.

"Thanks, Leslie. I'm giving the game a rest now."

"Well don't pay too much attention to this old drunk. He talks nonsense. Right, Butcher? You're full of shit, aren't you?"

"Get away from us." Butcher had a seriously-lined face that you usually only see on old farmers who've worked out in the sun their whole lives. 

"You don't like him?"

He made a spitting gesture. "Not at all. Let me ask you something....do you have a best friend?"

I kinda didn't anymore. The best friend I'd ever had was Kenny Grossmon who'd moved away my sophomore year of high school. I never knew what became of him. I was about to tell him about Kenny but he continued talking. "You can't ever trust people. Not even best friends. You die when you trust too much."

Top of the hour...it was 7 PM already. Leslie brought us shots and refills while he watched me carefully.

"I haven't really trusted too many people in my life. My mom, maybe. I grew up in a small town."

He nodded, probably wondering if I was a hick too dumb to talk to. "I got a lot of foreskin on my dick. I can fit a whole pool ball in ii." OK. I needed to excuse myself now. This old guy was no Yoda...just a cryptic drunk. "No, really. I live in the hotel down the street and you could come with me."

"Maybe next time. I gotta go now." I forgot my cup and hurried back up to the bar. Leslie had been watching.

"I'm glad you're back, Jeff. Did Butcher try to do something? Nick is finally here and he can get him out of here for you."

"No. He was just getting too drunk, talking all weird."

"Did he say anything about me?" 

"Not really. He doesn't like you too much. Why?"

"You know why? He believes some conspiracy shit and lives in the land of make believe. I can't believe his liver hasn't given out yet. He'll pass out before 9."

"Is that why you have a CB radio here? To call cabs for guys like him?"

He paused a second. "Yeah. Or cops. Or a security company we use sometimes."

"Makes sense. So this place is dangerous?"

"Not so much...what did he tell you?"

"He was vague." I wasn't about to repeat his foreskin story. 

"It's the top of the hour! Let's do a shot and I'll introduce you to the bouncer." I swiveled around to look at the front door. The incredibly huge guy was talking on a CB as well. So weird. I also noticed it was after dark now. Shit. At least this Nick due was as big as the Incredible Hulk. I could make it back to my car -- if it was still there. "The shot was something different this time...sharp cinnamon-flavored jet fuel. It woke me up a little. 

"Can I ask you something, Leslie?" He'd given me a fresh cup of beer.

"Sure."

"I've heard stories about this place, this street. Is there really a bus full of HIV guys who abduct people off the street and rape them?" 

"Butcher told you about that, didn't he? That story has been around for years and it's completely false. Why? Did you come here to find that out for yourself?"

"No. I mean... sort of. I have a fascination with morbid urban legends. And...."

"Say no more. I get it. I live nearby and walk home every night...by myself. I can tell you it's not true. I've seen drunk bums, drugged-out zombie kids, and runaways. But no evil AIDS bus. Ah -- here's Nick. The giant dude came and sat down next to me. He was large, but not all that muscular. He was wearing a tight t-shirt that just said 'SECURITY'  on the front. He cast a shadow over everything he was near. 

"Is this him? Is this Jeff?" His voice was scary deep. He shook my hand. His own hands were the size of catcher's mitts. 

How was I known so soon? It's not like I'd talked to everybody or made a spectacle of myself. "Good to meet you, Nick." He and Leslie exchanged looks, and I swear there was a secret between them. 

"Yeah. We were just talking about the myths surrounding this place. He's heard about the bio bus." More looks.

"Not that shit again. No wonder we're losing money. If Mario wants to turn a profit here, he needs to quash that shit." I could listen to that sexy voice all night. "Gimme a shot. Leslie. That scummy Dave guy kissed me on the mouth and I need to wash the taste away." We all had another shot. I guess these were my friends now. 

"Jeff here is interested in urban legends."

"Oh...like the hook hanging from the car door? Stuff like that?"

"Yeah. What purpose do they serve? How did they start?" I told them about the green skeleton we'd all been afraid of as kids. I was talking too much. I needed to sober up in the worst way.

"I think the more important question is why do you go looking for them?" This Nick guy was so astute for a bouncer.

"I'm curious. And this bus story got inside my head." There was more to it, but I was done talking about it. I noticed Nick's arm tattoos. He'd paid good money for them because they were well done and sharp. The one on his thick wrist was beautiful calligraphy. 'B B'. The bar had thinned out and we were pretty much just a group of three. Butcher had left at some point. 

"Time for shots! It's only 10 on a Saturday night and we're empty." Ten?? I'd been here far too long. Oh fuck it. I'd take a cab. 

We drank our shots. Nick kept getting closer to me and finally wrapped a big arm around my shoulders. "He's mine, Les. I'm sorry, but you've got a boy of your own somewhere, right?" 

Their conversation sounded like noise at this point. I was drunk but felt so warm and safe with Nick. 

"Call him a cab, Les. I'll walk him out." Yeah. It was probably time to go home. Leslie turned and made a 'call' or whatever you call it in CB language. I wanted to hear in case he started using that trucker language like they did on TV shows. He had stretched the cord and was talking too softly for me to listen in. He came back with a worried look.

"He says it'll take 45 minutes."

Okay. Whatever. I'd stop drinking and just go play some more pinball. As much as I liked Nick, there was no way I could picture myself dating him. It would look weird going out with some giant tattooed guy. People would talk. They'd assume things. I stood up from the stool and checked my front pocket for quarters. "Whoa, Hot Rod...where do you think you're going?" He had his hand on my shoulder.

"I need to sober up a little. Thought I'd go splash some water on my face and play a little pinball." He and Leslie looked at each other.

"Well...OK. Two games or ten minutes...whichever comes first. I'll bring you a coke or something. Deal?" 

"Sure."

The bathroom wasn't nearly as bad as you'd think. It smelled a little like piss, but it seemed mostly clean. I rinsed my face and that didn't seem to help much. Right above the mirror, someone had scrawled "BEWARE" in marker. I just now remembered that detail. I left and went right to my machine. "You're time starts now!" Nick shouted from the bar. Why? What was the big deal? I was a paying customer after all. I mean, what the fuck? I guess my motor skills weren't all that impaired because I won a free game and beat my own high score. I guess I'd only freaked out because drinking was sort of new to me. Maybe I'd even be clear enough to drive home on my own. I hated the idea of leaving my car here and then trying to figure out how to retrieve it tomorrow. I was weighing the idea when Nick approached.

"You've still got a few more minutes...I just wanted to watch you. You should see how you move when you play. You lean and work your hips and, well, it's sexy." He'd brought me a glass of Coke. "All he had was was diet. But it still has caffeine..." I'd lost the game because of the interruption, but I was done anyway. We sat down together at the same table Butcher had been sitting at earlier. Looking across at him finally gave me a chance to look right at his face. He wasn't bad looking at all - just big. His eyes were thinking eyes. 

"I don't think I'll be needing the cab. I feel a lot better."

"I don't know, Jeff. You have to prove it to me. We'll take a walk around the block and then I'll decide if you're okay to drive."

"A walk? Around here?! I don't think that's a good idea."

He stood up. "Look who you're with, kid. Nothing will bad happen...except I might make a pass at you." He winked, laughed. "Just kidding. Finish your Coke and we'll go."

I'd never had diet Coke before. It was kind of nasty, but I needed something carbonated that wasn't alcoholic. We headed for the door and Leslie and Nick said a few quick words to each other as I stood there feeling about 98% of my normal self. 

"Ready?" 

"Yeah. Can you just walk me to my car? I appreciate the concern, but I'm fine."

"We had a deal. Don't go back on your word now." I was in a spot...I didn't want this guy mad at me, but walking around the block seemed pretty pointless.

"OK. You have a flashlight? It doesn't look like most of your streetlamps are working."

"Already got it. Let's walk, Jeffy." 

We headed in the opposite direction of my car like two dumb characters in a horror movie -- where the whole audience is yelling "Don't go!". It was strangely thrilling.  I felt adrenaline chase the remaining alcohol out of my system. "Why doesn't the city fix some of the lights?"

"We're low on the list. There are pot holes around here that are two years old." We went around the corner where it was darker still. "Hold on a second." He bent down and kissed me on the mouth. I responding by kissing back. Then it was over. Just like that. "That was nice. Think you'd ever go out with someone like me."

"I know I would."

"Cool."

"Can we go back to the bar? This street is completely dark."

"It's okay. I'll turn the flashlight on." He fumbled around with it started flashing like a disco. "Shit. Wrong button."

"Why does it have a strobe?" 

"It's a signal for emergencies and stuff." I guess he wasn't able to find the normal light because we were walking again into total darkness. Headlights caught us from about fifteen yards away. As the vehicle slowly approached, Nick grabbed my wrist painfully hard. 

"Your ride is here."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

[Toon]

I wish I could say I was shocked. It was all coming together for me now. The Biohazard Bus was real and I'd practically bought a ticket  by missing clues. The free drinks, the CB radios, the careful scrutiny, the 'accidental' strobe light. I was caught off guard by Nick's betrayal but even that was exactly what the old guy had warned me about...giving your trust too freely. I'd have to deal with my carelessness now, take my medicine.

Nick pulled me into the huge, black SUV. The dome light was covered with some black plastic of some kind. I think it was a trash bag.

"You coming with us, Nick? Don't you have to work?" The voice asking belonged to the guy sitting next to me. At first I thought he was naked, but was wearing a jockstrap. 

"No. I need to come along this time. This is Jeff."

A few of the passengers mumbled "Hi", but I couldn't see what they looked like because there was almost no light. I could tell I was in the second row of seats between Nick and the jockstrap guy. My best guess is that there at least four others.

"Is he legal?," asked the driver.

"Yup. I got a hold of his wallet at the bar and checked his driver's license. But get this -- he came looking for us. He wanted to see if it was real or a myth."

"A volunteer? That's a first. I don't know how Marco is gonna like that. Did you slip something into his drink?"

"Didn't have to. He drank a lot and then succumbed to my charms."

"Yeah right. There's not that much booze in the world."

I'll skip the remainder of the short ride except to say that I was bizarrely not panicked. I didn't once think to yell or struggle. Also, Nick had his arm around my shoulders again, but I was no longer stupid or drunk enough to think this was real affection -- he was keeping me under control and that was all. 

We ended up in a glaringly bright garage...like the professional kind, not residential. Weirdly, I first noticed how clean the concrete floor was. No dirt and no grease spots. Mentally, I was either in shock or denial or possibly I was excited. Probably a combination. I got a good look at my six captors. The jockstrap guy was about 50 - 55. average height, very skinny except for a beer gut, no body hair and assorted tattoos -- including one identical to the 'BB' tat on Nick's wrist. 'Biohazard Bus'. That had to be it. Jockstrap guy was also massaging his crotch into a full boner that was visible beneath the filthy jock. He seemed to be the leader.

"Fuck! Nobody blindfolded him??! He can see us! Nick?"

"It's okay, dude. I get the feeling that he's cool with all this. If not, I'll take care of it. Just don't film this time."

"Fuck you. Just because you're bigger than me doesn't mean you're in charge...I'll taze you. Marco will expect to see something." 

"Well, fuckin' call him down here and he can watch for himself." Nick moved closer to me. 

"I don't know. He's been in bad shape lately."

"I'll call him," a tall black guy around my age said. He had a great body that was a marred with long scars on his chest and stomach. 

Jockstrap leader seemed doubtful. "This is not how we do it, Nick. You better be right about this or you'll be in the kind of trouble there aren't words for."

The other three guys ranged in ages from 30 to 60. One was white and other two were mixed. None of them were gorgeous but they weren't awful either. They were stripping down, leaving on their socks for some reason. A range of hard-ons bobbed up and down as if there was a breeze in here. The black guy came back from wherever and said "He's coming. He sounded almost normal. Almost. Dude's head is all wrong. Hope I die before that dementia shit kicks in."

"You probably will. Go get the mattress, Sal." Sal walked over to the wall and drug over a red air mattress and plopped it on the floor. "Good job. Get his clothes off so I can breed his cute little ass."

Nick - who was still clothed - stepped me and Jock. "I get him first, Pete."

"Don't use my name, goddammit! You're pushing it now. Why do you think you get to go before me?"

"I may have the virus, but I don't have all the other bugs you guys do. I don't want to catch your shit."

Pete paused, considered. "Well...I guess you got a point. We need you to stay healthy as long as possible so you can find us more fresh ass."

Nick looked down at me. "It'll be okay. Get your clothes off." I did without really thinking too much about what was about to happen. I was naked, but I didn't have an erection...until I saw Nick get naked. He had a dick that was a work of art. It was big but looked below average compared to his giant frame. He had a nice line of hair that went from between his nipples and went straight down to his pubes. I popped a boner instantly. 

"Whoa! That's a nice boy dick! I think he's in love with you, Nick," Sal said in a teasing voice.

"I know he is." He gave me a smile and a wink. Pete cursed a little as I went down on the mattress with Nicks mass of flesh covering me. We were kissing again. Deeply, roughly. His facial stubble was wearing my lips raw. He whispered in my ear with that delicious deep voice: "I will be as easy as possible. You've never done any of this, have you?" I answered with my eyes.  I didn't know what sex felt like. If it felt as good as masturbation did then I didn't see the problem.

God, to be that stupid again. 

"Get on your hands and knees...it's easier that way." He was still whispering but then shouted out "Get me the lube somebody!"

Sal or one of the others brought him a king-size tub of Vaseline. I got on all fours, but looked over my shoulder to watch him rub down his super hard dick with the jelly. I could do this...I knew I could. I wanted it. It wasn't until he stuck a greasy finger up my ass that I thought twice. It hurt in an unreal way. I grunted. 

"Try to relax a little, Jeff. Push your ass out like you're farting." He put another thick finger inside me. I tried to relax, but tell me  -- how in the world does one TRY to relax? 

Pete got impatient. "Marco wants to see rape, Nick. Not a fucking Falcon video. Just cum in him and let us have our turn." I hated that guy.

"He's a virgin, you asshole! If I don't ease him into this you guys will have to fuck a corpse!"

"Wouldn't be the first time."

I knew Nick was on thin ice with these thugs. "Go ahead, Nick. Cum in me." Some hoots and hollers erupted from the small group. I was thrilled with the whole scene now. ..or at least I was before Nick's fat cock head went inside of me. DAMN! I was sure I was going to die. I yelled "NO!" 

"Ain't nobody can hear you, kid. We really should have taped this." I don't know who said that. I didn't learn any other names.

Nick was as gentle and slow as he could be without pissing off the BB crowd. It felt horrible, like my guts were being stabbed. I just decided to ride it out. There was an identical tub of Vaseline in the bathroom of the house I grew up in. I used it for the frequent chapped lips I had back then. I always wondered why we had such a big thing of it if that's the only thing it was for. I pictured all the other things about my childhood bathroom, anything to take my mind off the pain. Only now it wasn't so terrible. He had the length of his shaft all the way inside of me, but still being gentle. 

"Lift his head up a little so he can suck me." Ugh. That Pete guy. Okay...how bad could it be compared to what was going on down below? As Nick sped up the pace of his fucking, A dick was suddenly pushing between my lips. It was fairly large, but not in a bizarre way. "Do a good job or I'll break your neck." I found it hot. A man's private organ was in my private mouth. I just sucked as much of it as I could and that seemed to satisfy Pete. I was more focused on the dick that was deep inside my body. It was exquisite somehow, the sudden throb of pleasure from within. 

"Shit. I'm gonna fuckin' cum now, Jeff. I'm so sorry." My nerve endings didn't feel Nick's sperm shoot but my mind did. My soul did. You'd think that climax would have liberated me of my own load. It didn't. I was so empty when he pulled out and sighed. I regret that he and I were done, but I concentrated on sucking the dick snaking its way toward my throat. Turns out I was a natural cocksucker. No gagging, no gasping. I don't think Pete was expecting that. His breath quickened and he grabbed the sides of my head.

"No. Not..now... I..." He shot his goo in my mouth. I swallowed. "No way is this guy a virgin. He's done stuff."

The black guy (Sal) said, "Just look at all the blood, man. Look...it's all over the place. Nick's cock is as red as a stoplight. He gets two minutes to recover and then I'm going to fuck that shit." A bottle of beer to hydrate. I caught my breath and looked at the other dicks around me. Sure -- I could handle whatever they wanted to do. I was also still hard. I didn't once consider disease or my fate, I just lied down on my back. It's exhausting to get everything you ever wanted. I may have closed my eyes for a second.

"You want it like that? I like it." Sal was standing over me with his long black wand hovering and bobbing. I wondered if those scars came from knife wounds...from prison maybe. He dropped to his knees and stared into my eyes. "I'd eat your ass, but it's a mess."

"I understand." I didn't feel the bleeding. He lifted my legs up over his shoulders. It may sound odd but I was ready to be fucked again....ready to be full of cock once more. Sal was all too happy to do to do just. His tool was thinner than Nick's, but there was still a quick jab of pain when I was entered again. 

"Shit! He's still tight as fuck...even after all that." His breath was a little rank as he exhaled heavily. "It's secondhand, but it's so nice in there." His two fleshy lips  pressed down onto mine. It wasn't the slightest bit romantic, but I found it sexy nonetheless. My hands wandered up his back and felt more scar tissue back there. I wandered if he'd been in a gang. My ass was making wet sounds as he just plowed in and out like a farm animal in heat. I winced and sucked in air between my clenched teeth.

"Get your damn bald head out of the way, Sal. I want to sit on his face." I don't know who said that, but I soon found a heavy,hairy ass covering my nose and mouth. There was no poo smell--which I'd assumed there would be. I knew I had to work up the desire to lick and kiss the hole forcing it's way down. So much of what I was doing now seemed natural...as if I were getting instructions from an unknown part of my brain. Moans and cuss words came from both guys. I think they were close to climaxing when a loud 'slam' sound came from somewhere.

"WHAT'S THIS?? I told you to wait for me!" Both dick and ass left me in an instant. Nick walked over and lifted me up by my shoulders.

"Just stand, Jeff. Can you? Be calm." I was feeling okay until I looked down and saw that my socks were completely soaked with red blood. I was standing in a puddle of it. No way could all of this had come from me.

"Marco is here. I'm so sorry."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

[Toon]

I knew that people who'd lost a lot of blood tended to get dizzy and pass out. I felt fine, considering that little streams of life were still running out of me. I'd just read an article in National Geographic about victims of shark attacks. They'd lose so much blood that they fainted and drowned before the pain really set in. 

"It's a kid. One of Nick's finds, I presume. He looks almost dead. Sal....did you cut him?"

"Nuh uh, Boss. He's just been worked over a little."

How to describe Marco? He was a tall, Italian, good-looking guy in expensive clothes that were too heavy for Summer. He was young-ish  but gaunt and obviously very sick. He was pure evil, pure demon. And hot. I was frozen in place.

"What? Who said that?" Nobody had spoken. "Yeah - we definitely should take him down to Mexico. I can get a jet here in an hour." I remember one of the guys (Sal?) saying something about him suffering from dementia. Oh hell. Everything was very new and very ominous now. "You guys go to the back and get a beer. I need some time with this boy." Nick took a second to touch my back before leaving with the rest of the crew. "And get dressed. We'll need to get out of here afterwards." They stopped, took their clothes and scattered. It was just Marco and I. He shed his nice wool coat and let me see just how deathly thin he was. "Quite a night, huh?"

I never once thought I was going to die until now. "It's an honor to meet you, sir."

"Save it. Come here and take the dick out of my pants." I guess I had to. I walked to him on weak legs and knelt at his feet as if he were a saint or something. My arms and hands weren't working so well but I found the fly of his designer pants and opened it. He undid the top button himself which was very courteous. The crotch hair was dark black and abundant, but I didn't have time to see much of it before the biggest, fattest penis in the world sprang out. My vision was a little blurry, but I was still impressed in a perverted way. I kissed it and stroked my tongue up and down the pole. He stood completely still and let me work. It was at that point that I fell over on my side. "Get up. I don't fuck on a damn bloody mattress....so stand and turn around. What? Talk louder, God!"

I was so dizzy, but I still somehow stood up. He bent me over a little and made zero effort to go slow. He just plowed that enormous tool right in to the hilt. "You might be my last fuck, Brian. Get ready." Brian? It would be the dumbest thing to correct him. "Too much blood...WAY too much. It better not get on my loafers - these cost 900 dollars." He did the thrusting motion I'd gotten somewhat used to now. 

"Oh GOD...you're so huge!!" I had the idea that compliments would make him feel good. The truth was that my nerve endings were long gone. I didn't feel anything but pressure and motion. No sting and no throb as he came. I wanted to sleep now. 

"There you go. You have the same seed as the rest of those morons got already. Let it take." I think he wanted me to stand still, but I collapsed. The shark had done its job. I thought of the ocean as my head hit the mattress. My bare legs were on the concrete floor. More bruises and more blood. I'd go ahead and die here, I guess. I was just playing dead though. Maybe he'd simply wander off in his own private craziness.  Here's what I heard as he opened a door and exited. "He's dead, boys. Somebody take care of it. My limo is waiting. Nick -- we need to talk tomorrow. Not early. I'll call you."

I used to pretend I was dead and imagine what it was really like. The white light, the dead relatives, my childhood dog running up to me with his favorite toy. But I was very much alive. A rush of heavy boots came up to me. Nick knelt down and shook me a little. "Jeff?"

"Hi."

"Thank God. I need to get you out of here. You're hurt bad." 

"If he's not dead, you need to give him those pills and leave him in the country somewhere. Far." Pete. I could still taste his cum.

"I told you I'd take care of this. I'm taking the van."

Things were so confusing. Where was I? Who was I? What happened? I must have had a car accident after the senior prom. Paula Abdul was singing.

I was sitting in the front seat and Nick was talking a mile a minute. "We're going back to get your car. I know you can't drive, but I'll get you to the hospital. I have some stuff that will make you forget everything. I'm expected to drug you and dump you in the middle of nowhere...but I can't. If you want to forget everything, I'll give you half. I'm so sorry. Can you hear me?"

We were back outside Chuckie's. My car was still there, like an old friend. Nick helped me to the passenger side because I guess he had also snagged my keys at some point. My wallet. I needed that because my insurance card was in it. "Can I please have the wallet back?"

"It's already in your back pocket...with all your cards and all the cash. I'm not a bad man, Jeff. I just got involved with all this to make money. You're alive...and you can turn us all in. I wouldn't blame you. I'm moving. But I won't forget you."

"I...I'm not breathing very well."

"It's OK. You'll be OK. We're here. I'm about twenty feet from the ER entrance. Can you walk that far?"

"No."

"Well, I can't get any closer. Make it as far as you can while I park your car. I can walk back on my own. Or something."

It was over. I was standing alone. I was cold and wished I'd worn a coat even though it was probably 75 degrees that morning. I wish the damn sun would come up. The warm sun. I made it about five feet before I collapsed. Blood and semen were dribbling out of my ass. I just needed a small nap and then I'd be fine. The asphalt in the parking lot was still warm from the day. So nice.

"Hey! Do you need help?" If I remember right, it was a young married couple and the woman was heavily pregnant. I must have looked pretty bad because the guy seemed more concerned about me than with his poor wife. "I gotta get Kim checked in, but I'll tell them you're here. Hang in there."

I either said or thought I said "Congratulations." Within less than a minute, a couple of men came out and asked me to talk to them, tell them what happened. I didn't feel like talking just then. 

I woke up in a very nice bed.The room was bright and a nice nurse lady was fussing with some tube attached to my arm. It was bright and sunny outside the window. I didn't know where I was and I mostly didn't care. "Hi."

"Goodness! You're awake! You're in a hospital right now. How do you feel? Do you have pain?"

"Some. What happened?"

"The doctor will be in here soon and explain everything. Let me get him, and then we'll take care of your pain." She would be prettier if she lost a few pounds. You can't tell women stuff like that. I looked at the TV on the wall. "Facts of Life". God, was that show ever not being broadcast on some channel. Mrs. Garrett, Jo, Blair, Tootie, Natalie. It was nice to see them.

"So I hear you've returned to the world! Welcome back!" The doctor was a pleasant red-headed man. His voice was warm and friendly. "Do you know what happened to you? Do you know how you got here? Did someone bring you? Who?"

"I was going to go try and find a tire store. That's all I remember." 

"We'll get you some lunch. Try to think. Don't be alarmed, but a police detective will need to ask you some things. He's right outside the door now. Just don't try and get out of bed today. If you need the bathroom, press that blue button. You've got stitches in your bottom and we don't want those popping out."

I talked to various doctors, cops and even a social worker. I gave no details...even though my brain was overflowing with them. Specific details. I had found the bus...it was real. 

I got to go home a week later. I couldn't drive myself because my car was confiscated as evidence. The thing that puzzled them the most was that only the passenger seat was soaked in my blood. They wanted to know who brought me to the ER. I told them I had no idea. There were stills from the parking lot security camera footage that they kept showing me. It was Nick's back as he walked away, "That's a big dude...you don't remember meeting or seeing someone that size?" I liked this detective the best of all of them. Mitch.

"No."

"Come on, man. Doc says you don't have any brain damage and that there's no reason you should have amnesia. You hiding something? Protecting somebody?"

"I'm not."

He shook his head and sighed. "Please try. You'd help us, the city and most of all - yourself. Would you agree to go under hypnosis? It could help us stop this from happening to anyone else."

I wasn't legally obligated to see a hypnotist so I didn't. Once I was well enough to go home, the questions ended. My work gave me 12 weeks of leave. Supposedly they hadn't been told what had happened, but things have a way of leaking out. I guess my name was in the newspaper once or twice. My parents had no idea what I'd been through, but I had to tell them something. I played it down as just a mugging, and said I was completely recovered now. Mom wanted to come look after me, but I insisted I just needed time to rest. Dad sent me a check -- which was pretty much the only way he knew how to show concern. Not complaining. I used the time to write down everything I remember about that day/night. On the advice of the hospital's resident counselor, I went to a 'rape victim support group'...once. I was the only male in the room. I didn't need support or help or therapy. I was even strangely accepting of the fact that I most likely had HIV. I was supposed to get tested in a month, but wasn't really dreading it. It was what it was. You'd think I'd run out of details to remember about the incident, but they kept popping up every time I opened my blue notebook.

I tested positive for the AIDS virus about a week before my time off from work was over. More questions, more advice, more lists of support groups. I'd learned to just keep quiet and nod. I really felt fine. At least I did until I retrieved my mail that evening and found a letter from someone that I knew instantly was Nick. I waited a good twenty minutes before opening it. Deep breath.

Hi Jeff

I hope you're still at the address that was on your driver's license. I also hope you are doing okay...I actually hope you're doing great, but I understand that things are probably complicated in your head. I now live in a small Missouri town just outside Kansas City. You might remember that I told you I was moving. I needed to get away from what I was doing and what I was becoming. I'm a good person. Marco's people would never think to look for me here. 

I am so truly sorry for what happened to you. So, so SO sorry!! I could have stopped it but I was too afraid of that bunch. I keep replaying the night in my head and imagining all the ways I could of kept you from harm. It keeps me awake every night. I guess what bothers me the most is that I really, really liked you. I wish I could turn back time for both of us. I want to date you and hold your hand at the movies and make love to you in a natural, gentle way. I suppose you'll never allow that now. Do you ever think of me? On the back of this page is my address and phone number. Please call me. PLEASE!!!!

Love, Nick

P.S. Please?

I don't know. I guess I'll call.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

[pozpopperpig]

Hope there is more!

[dckinkguy]

he should definitely call and visit

[evilqueerpig]

Call and visit!

[bjbottom]

Hopefully he calls and visits and there is a new bio bus in a small Missouri town just outside Kansas City.