Dirty Little Secret Ch. 04

"Stand here and wait!" he said as he climbed into the bathtub and turned on the water.

I stood there and watched as he lathered himself and washed the areas I had covered with oil.

I had loved the huge bathtub when I first saw it. It was so wide a shower curtain or glass door wasn't needed. The shower spray stayed in the tub.

"Get in here, boy!" he suddenly said.

When I stepped over the ledge into the tub he ordered: "Put your hands on the wall and spread your legs!"

He used his foot to kick my legs further apart. When he was finished manhandling me, the position I was in reminded me of how the police on the tv show 'Cops' frisked the suspects.

I felt scared and vulnerable leaning over in that position.

He was behind me and I felt the soap in his hand between the cheeks of my ass. He lathered my anus and perineum. My cock, which had lost its erection when I watched him clean himself, suddenly roared back to life.

Then his soapy finger was at my hole. Without warning, he pushed it hard inside me. I yelped in surprise and pain. He ignored my pleas to be gentle and pushed the finger all the way inside me.

I relaxed my sphincter and the pain went away. His finger was identical to his cock: short and stubby. He began sawing it in-and-out of my hole. His free hand reached around and stroked my hard prick.

A groan of delight escaped my lips, and I hated myself for it.

How in the world could I experience such exquisite pleasure at the hands of a man I detested? I really am a pathetic, pitiful queer-boy.

I hung my head in shame, but that didn't stop me from enjoying the wonderful sensations he was giving me.

"PUSH YOUR HIPS BACK AND FUCK MY FINGER, BOY!! he commanded.

I would have done that anyway. I had surrendered to the pleasure and all I wanted now was to cum.

I moved my hips in time with his finger. My balls ached for release; his hand moved faster back-and-forth on my throbbing erection. I was close - so very close.

"That's it, boy," he said in a whisper. "I can feel your pussy tighten on my finger...good boy...good boy..."

Suddenly he stopped - he pulled his hands from me.

I whimpered and cried out "Noooooo-pleezzzzzzz..."

He laughed, cleaned his middle finger with my wet hair then stepped out of the tub.

As he dried himself he shouted "FINISH IT, BOY-MAKE YOURSELF CUM!"

When I hesitated he screamed "NOW BOY-DO IT NOW!!"

And once again in my life, I couldn't help myself. I hated I was so weak-willed and had no self-control.

I reached between my wide splayed legs and found my anus. It was still soapy from his finger. I pushed my finger in-and-out of my hole while my free hand squeezed and stroked my raging hard-on.

I closed my eyes tight and tried desperately to drown out the sound of his mocking laughter.

"Look at you," he said. "A pathetic little queer-boy who needs his pussy filled so badly you'd humiliate yourself in front of a stranger! FASTER BOY—I WANT TO SEE THE CUM SQUIRTING OUT OF YOUR TINY DICK!"

I opened my eyelids and tears rushed down my face as I furiously jacked-off and finger-fucked my asshole.

His evil voice invaded my brain.

"Admit to me you're a faggot, boy - you've never told anyone have you? You're so ashamed of being queer you hate yourself for it, don't you, boy?"

"Say it, boy! Tell me you love men's cocks - tell me you love sucking men's cocks - tell me how much you love bending over for men so they can fuck your tight pussy...SAY IT, BOY-SAY IT NOW!!"

My brain was on overload; I began to openly sob; my hand worked faster and faster on my cock; I rammed my finger viciously in-and-out of my hole. His words echoed thru my mind. I couldn't stop myself; the words just spilled out of my mouth.

"I'M A FAGGOT-YES, I'M A FAGGOT-I LOVE MEN'S COCKS-I LOVE SUCKING COCK-I LOVE GETTING FUCKED IN THE ASS-I LOVE MEN SHOOTING CUM IN MY PUSSY!!"

"LOOK AT ME, BOY-I WANT TO HEAR YOU SCREAM OUT WHEN YOU CUM...NOW BOY-CUM NOW, BOY!!"

The semen erupted from my cock like a volcano. I had to obey him.

"AAAHHHH-GOD-AAAAHHHH-I'M CUMMING, SIR-I'M CUMMING-OH MY GOD I'M CUMMING...OH GOD—OH-GOD—OH-GOD—I'M CUMMMMMIIINNNGGGGGGGG..."

I hung my head in shame and confusion. How was it possible to have such a fantastic orgasm under these conditions? I considered I may be even more perverted than Mr. Hanson.

"Look at me, boy," he said as I fought to control my breathing.

He pointed to a picture frame high on the opposite wall and my eyes followed his finger.

"Look up there...see the tiny hole next to the frame?"

"Y-Yes, sir," I stammered.

"Your performance has been captured on tape for all eternity—complete with soundtrack!"

"This is how it's going to be from now on: I will come here every Monday and Wednesday at 3pm sharp. When I arrive, I expect to find you naked and on your knees beside the massage table...you will obey me without question...do you understand me, boy?"

"Y-Yes, sir," I replied in a dead voice.

He left the bathroom and I heard him dressing. Then the front door slammed shut and I was alone.

A sudden chill gripped my entire body. I collapsed onto the bathmat and hugged my knees to my chest and cried like a baby.

Everything was crystal clear to me now: as long as I was ashamed of my dirty little secret I would belong to Mr. Hanson. As long as I hated myself for who I am he could do with me as he pleased.

Even on my wobbly legs it was only a five-minute walk to Garvin Industries. I had no desire to begin a new job after my unpleasant encounter with the Devil himself. I was feeling lethargic, and my mind was definitely not focused on working.

I almost missed the entrance to the company even though I had scoped it out earlier. A sign over the door simply read 'GI.'

It was a secure building and I pressed the bell and waited until a tall, nice-looking guy about ten years older than me opened the door.

"Are you John?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied.

He held out his hand and said, "I'm glad you're here—I've heard a lot of good things about you...I'm Jeffrey Garvin—welcome aboard!"

I shook his hand and said, "Thank you."

I followed him thru two more secure doors until we entered a production area. I saw a dozen people sitting, staring intently at tiny computer boards on their flat, work areas.

My heart sank—disappointment set in. I was going to work as an assembler of circuit boards? I had been hoping for something more challenging; work that required using the knowledge I'd gained at school.

We came to a vacant work station and stopped.

"This is where we assemble the 'GI2001'...right now, it's our only money-making project...we have three shifts of assemblers to keep up with demand...without these boards we couldn't stay in business..."

I nodded solemnly and reached for the chair at the work station. I wanted to show Mr. Garvin I was prepared to perform any work required of me.

He stopped me, and said with a surprised look on his face: "No-no-you're not working out here...didn't Mr. Hanson tell you what your position with us would be?"

"Well, uh, not really..." I stammered.

"Yeah," said my new boss, "...that's just like him—always so secretive...c'mon, follow me."

My spirits lifted as I followed him thru another password protected door.

"This is our laboratory—our 'think tank', if you will...here is where Garvin Industries was born, and here is where, with your help, Garvin Industries will become a major player in international technology development."

A rush of adrenaline coursed thru my body when I looked around and saw state-of-the-art hardware and several easels and chalkboards with formulas scribbled wildly on their surfaces.

Yes, this is exactly what I'd had in mind when I accepted the job. I would be applying my expertise in problem-solving in real-time with a young, growing company.

"John, I spoke with your professors and each one told me you are unique in your ability to 'think outside-the-box' when it comes to solving highly complex theorems and algorithms," said Jeffrey enthusiastically.

His obvious passion for the work excited me. I knew immediately I would love working here. He pointed to the guy I'd noticed when we came thru the door.

"John, I will be honest with you," he said staring intently into my eyes. "...and I don't intend on this sounding naïve or braggadocios, but I truly believe the three of us will do great work here...I think GI will become huge—Apple and Microsoft-huge-with the three of us working together, we have the opportunity to make advances in technology not seen since Steve Jobs and Bill Gates!"

Heady words, indeed. He certainly knew how to inspire a fresh and young protégé. I was ready to tackle any problem he threw my way.

"John, you may already know Tim Hudson from school, but if not, Tim—this is John—John this is Tim."

His back had been turned to me the whole time Mr. Garvin was talking, but when I heard his name and he turned to greet me with out-stretched hand, I was dumbstruck like a twelve-year-old girl meeting a pop star.

He had a sly, shy smile on his cherubic face as we shook hands.

"Pleasure to meet you," I said, trying not to gush.

"Mine too," he replied.

Tim Hudson was something of an IT legend at school. Just two years older than me, he was already nearing completion of his doctorate. He'd begun the university at the age of sixteen, and as the story goes, at age eighteen he found a 'glitch' in the operating system the entire university used, rewrote the specs and code and successfully tested and installed it himself.

Tim Hudson was to IT what Peyton Manning is to football, and Tom Cruise is to movies. I was simply thrilled that I would be working alongside him.

I beamed with pride as I took off my jacket and slipped-on the lab coat with a 'GI' logo emblazoned on the front.

"Mr. Garvin, thank you for this opportunity," I said.

"Jeffrey—call me Jeffrey..." he smiled.

"Thank you—Jeffrey," I smiled back at him.

Jeffrey had me look over the incomplete formulas on the chalkboards as the two of them returned to whatever they were doing. I recognized the intent and purpose of the formulas immediately, but there were one or more equations missing from each.

One particular chalkboard caught my eye. I read thru the formula twice then said out loud to no one "OH—you're developing a new operating system? Very impressive!"

Out of the corner of my eye I saw them suddenly look at one another with surprise written all over their faces.

Jeffrey said: "Our goal is to revolutionize IT and we feel the operating systems currently in existence are antiquated and insufficient to meet the demands of our planned hardware and software...John, feel free to study that formula...maybe a fresh mind will see what Tim and I are missing."

I felt a little nervous. I figured this was a test he was giving me to see what I could do...how my mind worked.

I pulled the chalkboard close to my workstation and furiously banged on the keyboard. I was notorious for going thru keyboards because of my heavy 'touch.'

I became lost in my own little world of formulas and equations. This was where I was happiest. The formula was in my head. My mind danced over every number, letter and symbol.

I replicated the formula on my computer monitor and made subtle changes while calculating and including three new equations of my own. I never touched the chalkboard until I was satisfied with my corrections.

As usual, I lost all sense of time. When I was positive the problem had been solved, I looked at the big clock on the wall thinking it'd taken me less than an hour. I was mildly surprised to see I'd been working on it for over three-hours.

I backed-up the original formula on the computer then went to the chalkboard and made my changes. I became aware of Jeffrey and Tim standing nearby watching my every move.

I furiously erased some sections, added new formulas, changed existing equations then stood away from the board and stared at my work.

Satisfied the formula was complete and correct; I explained to them what I had done.

My last words were "...and I tweaked the formula to make the system adaptable to any uses or applications we may want to include at a future date..."

I looked at them for the first time. Their mouths were open, and the astonishment I saw in their eyes filled me with a sense of accomplishment and pride that would stay with me forever.

Jeffrey approached me and I thought I saw tears in his eyes. He suddenly threw his arms around me and squeezed me tight.

"John, this is remarkable! More than remarkable...this is—this is..."

He was lost for words. Tim joined us and we shared a group hug. I could feel both of their bodies shaking as we hugged and danced in a small circle. I was rather surprised by the reaction from them.

"Jeffrey," I said. "You guys just needed a pair of fresh eyes, that's all—you two would have figured this out real soon, I'm sure."

He broke off the hug and stared sincerely into my eyes.

"John," he said with a sad smile on his face, "...our minds do not work the same as yours...our logic is too rigid—you...you have the unique and special gift of nonconformity-of-thought...your mind has no accepted boundaries of science and technology...you can 'think-outside-the-box' because you don't see the box—you see only endless possibilities."

"Gentlemen," he said softly and with a tone of reverence and awe, "...if the three of us work together, I believe we can revolutionize our industry...I realize you men are young, and may have different career paths in mind, but if you choose to stay with GI instead of working for larger, established corporations, I guarantee you both will never become bored or complacent; there are exciting challenges ahead for us here—many obstacles that need to be overcome, complex problems that we will face and solve together...if I can get a commitment from both of you to work alongside me here at GI, not only will the work be fresh and exhilarating, but all three of us will become very rich men."

He looked at Tim then me with an air of expectancy. His words were intense-I already felt the exhilaration from the implications of tonight's breakthrough.

Tim smiled and offered his hand to Jeffrey. I immediately followed suit.

This is what I always dreamed of anyway. I wanted to work for a small company and help make it grow. The money wasn't as important as the work, but I had a feeling deep in my bones, that not only would the work be extremely satisfying mentally, but financially rewarding as well.

"Why don't we call it a night," Jeffrey said. "When you guys get here tomorrow, there will be a new agenda and new projects to attack...boys, get ready for the wildest roller-coaster ride of your lives!"

I couldn't have been happier when I left GI Industries that night. As unbelievable as it seemed to me, I had already made a major accomplishment in my field of choice. I was nervous with excitement and anticipation; at that time, I didn't understand the magnitude and enormity of what I had done that night.

Tim had walked to work too, and we headed to our homes together. We made small talk on the way. He had many of the same interests as me, and possessed a clever sense of humor. It seemed like we were old friends.

When we came to my street I said, "I have to go this way."

"Me too," he replied.

We walked slowly, relishing our budding relationship. Since we were going to be spending a lot of time together at work, I was relieved we hit-it-off so well, I'd only known him for a few hours, but I already knew he would become a close friend.

The nearer we came to the 'evil house' the more nervous I became. It was like I didn't want Tim to know where I lived—that he would guess the shame and horror that went on inside and our friendship would be diminished.

I stopped on the sidewalk in front of the house.

"Uh...um, this is where I live," I said softly.

When I looked at Tim I saw a pained expression.

"I know," he said. "I live here, too."

My 'brilliant' mind went blank. Huh? How could he live here?

It was a cold evening and he was wearing a turtle-neck sweater. It seemed normal to me until he pushed the fabric down his neck. In the dim light from a nearby street pole I barely made out a dark splotch on his neck.

I had no idea what it was until he said, "I'll bet you have one of these, too."

The hair on my neck stood straight; my flesh broke out with goose-pimples.

OH MY GOD, I thought. That's a hickey on his neck! WHAT THE HELL??? Oh no, he's not—no, he can't be...

I fought hard to maintain my composure. With trembling fingers I opened my jacket then pushed aside the collar of my shirt exposing my hickey-of-shame to him.

We solemnly walked towards the front door of the house; we stopped before he went inside.

I was near tears, and when I heard his voice cracking I knew he was too.

"We are two intelligent, logical, problem-solving guys," he said in a whisper, "but I don't know what to do about Mr. Hanson...John, you have a beautiful mind...you proved tonight you see problems differently than most people...please use your God-given ability to think outside-the-box and solve this problem for the both of us-okay? We can't let the son-of-a-bitch control our lives!"

A lump caught in my throat. I replied, "I don't know what to do about him either, Tim."

He stepped closer to me and gently grasped my shoulders. We were face-to-face.

"Yes you do," he whispered, "...you just haven't given it much thought yet.

He leaned in and kissed my forehead.

"John, I heard you and Hanson last night and I'm sure you heard me and him the night before...we are up against an egomaniacal sex pervert—use his weaknesses to our advantage..."

Tim went inside leaving me on the stoop pondering our dilemma.

I will no longer describe my encounters with Mr. Hanson. It is not my intent to provoke sympathy or revulsion. Some things in life are better left unsaid.

All I can say is how funny and strange life can be at times. What began as the most horrific thing that ever happened to me in my life, suddenly opened new doors and created opportunities that could only have taken place in my wildest dreams.

If Mr. Hanson hadn't blackmailed his way into my life, I would never have gotten a job from Jeffrey Garvin—I would never have had the chance to work alongside Tim Hudson-AND I would NEVER have been the person to solve the formula that had been stumping two of the greatest minds of the early 21st century.

How's that for some weird and wonderful karma? The enormity of it all wouldn't occur to me until much later.

After work Wednesday night, Tim and I left GI and began the short walk home. I had confided in him my plan to meet Denny. He'd promised to protect my secret from Mr. Hanson, but was understandably pessimistic.

"You know, John," he said, "that son-of-a-bitch has his claws into a lot of people...he's got snitches all over town."

"We'll be careful—no one will see us together...I have to be with him, Tim, it's been too long... I'm going to my parent's for Thanksgiving, and my mother somehow talked me into staying the whole weekend...Denny leaves for Nebraska on Friday, this is the only chance we'll have to be together for a while."

"I know-I know..." he said. "Maybe the fat prick won't find out...he's spending time with his family, and he told me I'm free until Saturday afternoon..."

It made me nauseous when Tim said 'I'm free until Saturday afternoon.' My heart went out to him. We hadn't known each other for long, but our connection to Mr. Hanson had made us kindred spirits, and instant friends.

We stopped before turning down the usual street to go home.

"I'm jealous..." Tim suddenly said.

Under the street light I saw a smile on his face. I could tell he was happy for me.