Hanging off the Appalachian Trail

Ray was good enough with it. Holt would use Ray again. Ray surely wanted more work done on the jalopy he drove.

"Sorry to say, but Alphonse here and I would like you take a little ride with us, Howie. Just come along nice now."

Holt looked over at Rocko at the table. The big black, having heard it all, looked ready to spring. Holt gave him a negative shake of the head. He didn't want the possible involvement of Rocko to get into these two dummies' minds at all. Instead, he nodded to Manuel, who pulled a shotgun out from behind the bar.

"I think one beer is enough for you boys today," Manuel said, "and I'm sorry to report that the bar is closing early today."

Taking the point, Taylor gave Holt a piercing look and simply said, "Later, then."

The two men left the bar without a fuss. When Holt was ready to leave, both Rocko and Manuel were at the edge of the fence at the parking lot to make sure that Holt's Town Car was clear and that Holt got to it safely.

Holt kept thinking of the Taylor-Jackson pair in the vein of a harmless Mutt and Jeff and thus didn't give them much of a thought at all. He kept his mind on what was coming later that night.

The blond Lynchburg College student performed well for Rocko in the stocks that night, kneeling on a pad, his neck and wrists trapped in the holes of a wooden stock contraption, his ankles cuffed to a leg extender, his cock and balls extended painfully by heavy weights, and Rocko tickling him mercilessly before mounting his ass and whipping his back, buttocks, and thighs while fucking him deep and hard.

Holt appreciated the identical treatment later even more, as the blond student, totally exhausted, hung from an X frame and watched through slitted, half-glazed eyes while Rocko repeated the session on Holt.

* * * *

They let him get almost to The Priest on the Appalachian Trail, well away from Buena Vista and any other sign of civilization, before the black duo of Taylor and Jackson swarmed over Holt from both sides of the trail. He put up quite a fight and was nearly the match of the two of them together. Taylor had to knock him out with a well-placed slam of a rubber dildo.

When Holt came to, he already was spread-eagled, naked, with both arms and legs stretched to his sides, between two trees at the top of a rock outcropping, suspended over a drop off into a parallel mountain range on the western side of the Blue Ridge. There was nothing but forested mountaintops to seen in any direction, and there was no telling how far down the mountainside they were from either the Blue Ridge Parkway or the Appalachian Trail. Holt wouldn't have bothered to yell for help even if he could. In the event, the ball gag would muffle any screaming he might do.

His arms were stretched and tied off by rope to two trees at either side of the flat rock he was suspended over. His legs, similarly stretched and roped off to the trees were almost painfully extended. Other than his hiking boots, he was stripped down. Mutt and Jeff were busy wrapping the base of his cock and balls in the end of the rope, which they then would lead off to another tree in front him, pulling his genitals up and stretching them. They'd already hung heavy weights on his ball sac that would fight to pull his balls down.

As soon as he came to, Holt began to writhe. Taylor and Jackson laughed cruelly. Unbeknownst to them, though, Holt was in seventh heaven. He shot off in Jackson's face, as the squat man knelt before him working on the knots of the rope encasing Holt's cock. It wouldn't, by any means, be Holt's only ejaculation of the ordeal.

Jackson didn't find that funny and had words with Taylor, who thought it was a riot. Angry, Jackson picked out a dildo from a bag Taylor was unloading, moved to behind where Holt was strung up, and shoved the rubber dick up Holt's ass. The man was almost lifted off his feet, his eyes rolled up into his head, and he groaned in ecstasy. Leaving the dildo nearly all the way up Holt's channel, Jackson came back around, stripping off his shirt, to show a stocky but well-developed chest and six pack. Taylor already had his T-shirt off, showing an equally muscled torso, the result for both of them from several year's work in heavy construction.

It was about then that Ray, called by Taylor to come up on the parkway after they'd first subdued Holt, arrived, leaving his motorbike on the parkway and following his phone GPS down to the coordinates Taylor gave him.

"What?" he exclaimed. "No, don't. He didn't do—"

"Shut up and stand out of the way, Ray," his uncle commanded. "Just watch and enjoy getting some of your own back, but don't get involved in this."

Defeated and knowing that the revved-up duo wouldn't listen to anything he said, Ray sat down on a rock and watched the show unfold.

Jackson was already clipping on tit clamps connected with a chain and was rewarded with a grunt, and then with a deep groan when he reached down and crushed Holt's distended ball sac. Taking four clips up from what Taylor had poured from the sack of toys they had brought, Jackson clipped two to each ball sac, causing Holt to writhe to the extent he could, moan, and begin to pant hard.

He shot another load, and Jackson barely got out of the way of the arc.

Taylor was pushing a short, many leather-pronged whip into Jackson's hands and choosing something that looked like a feather duster for himself, and they both went to work, Jackson whipping Holt from behind, and Taylor tickling him with the feathers from in front.

Looking away from this, Ray spotted movement up the slope where the sweeping branches of a giant fir tree nearly met the tops of low bushes. Focusing on it, he realized he could see Rocko hiding in the foliage. He looked to see if he'd be missed, but Taylor and Jackson were preoccupied with getting water into a large enema bottle they'd brought and taunting Holt with what they were going to do to him with it.

Holt was panting noisily through his ball gag, Taylor and Jackson misinterpreting fear for what Holt anticipated as pleasure that he wished the two would hurry up with.

"How did you get here?" Ray asked in a whisper when he got to Rocko and was pulled down to where he was sitting between Rocko's thighs in an open space under the spread of the fir tree branches. Rocko had a sawed-off shotgun in one hand and pulled Ray's body into his with the other. He pointed the barrel of the shotgun up under Ray's chin and scrabbled to undo Ray's belt with the other hand.

"Hey, wait," Ray whispered. "I'm not part of this. My uncle called me up here. I didn't know they had Mr. Holt. He just told me to get my ass up here. I didn't tell them anything."

"I followed you up here," Rocko growled. "I saw you tooling out of town, and I took Mr. Holt's Town Car and followed you up here. I was following your ass too."

"You didn't know they were up here doing this to him?"

"No, I came up here to do the same thing to you." Rocko put the shot gun down long enough to secure Ray's wrists together behind his back with the belt. He nodded off to the side where coils of rope and a sack of toys were piled.

Ray moaned at the sight of them and with the thought that Rocko intended to do to him what his uncle was doing to Holt. "But we have to do something to save Mr. Holt," he murmured. It was the last thing he was able to say. Rocko had taken the bandana off the curly black hair head of the young black and gagged Ray's mouth with it.

"Mr. Holt's having the time of his life," Rocko growled. "He don't need no savin'. You and me are gonna watch him getting his rocks off again and again, and you and me are gonna have the time of your life too. If I see them doin' something life threatening to him, I'll pull this shotgun on them. Short of that, I don't think he'd appreciate me breakin' into his fun."

And, sure enough, out on the rock suspended over the cliff, enema water was streaming down Holt's thighs as Taylor gave the bottle, its neck jammed up Holt's ass, another hard squeeze. Jackson in front again doing a nut-crushing routine on Holt, who almost got him again with the strong arc of another ejaculation. Holt was having a jolt of surprise pleasure.

Rocko turned Ray, pulled him up on his knees, jerked his shorts and briefs down to his calves, pushed Ray's face into the dirt at the base of the bushes, mounted his ass, and began to cock pump him. He'd whipped off his belt as well and had that looped around Ray's throat, creating makeshift reins. He jerked back on the reins with every other thrust up the young man's channel. Ray gagged at each jerk from the cut in his air supply. The two settled into a rhythm of the fuck that permitted them both to watch what was happening to Holt through the foliage.

Holt was being fucked now too. Both of his assailants were naked and in full erection. The ropes on his arms had been relaxed, and Holt was bent forward at the waist. Jackson, the smaller cocked of the two black assailants was taking Holt's ass first, as Taylor crouched in front of Holt and fucked his throat.

By the time Jackson was finished and they'd exchanged positions, with Holt grunting and groaning deeply to find that Taylor indeed was the rumored eleven incher, Rocko was done ass fucking Ray too, and had pushed him over on his side, had a death grip on Ray's balls with one hand, and was rubbing the glans of Ray's cock with the other hand. Ray writhed at the crushing of his balls and groaned a strong ejaculation from the worrying of his bulb and Rocko's efforts to finger fuck his piss slit.

Taylor and Jackson picked up their toys, loaded them into a sack, and walked out of the woods, not freeing Holt and not seeing where Rocko and Ray were hidden.

"Where's Ray?" Jackson asked.

"Beats me," Taylor answered. "The kid probably doesn't have the stomach for this. But if Howie gets out of this, I'll bet he doesn't touch the kid again."

After they'd left, Rocko freed Ray and said, "Wait here. Don't you go anywhere or I'll come for you and it won't be pretty."

"Don't leave me," Ray whimpered.

"What?"

"I want you to fuck me again. I want, like Mr. Holt . . . the ropes . . . you said you were going to string me up like Mr. Holt is bound."

"You want that?"

"Yes," Ray admitted in a small voice.

"Oh for the love of Jesuzz," Rocko muttered. "Stay here. I'll be back." While he was telling Ray to stay there, he was tying the young man's ankles together with his belt. Ray's wrists were still tied behind his back with his own belt. There was little chance Ray was going anywhere before Rocko returned.

When he went down to Holt, he didn't free him immediately. He moved behind him, thrust his cock in Holt's now gaping hole, and fucked him in the ass as the two others had done, while Holt whimpered his appreciation through his ball gag. Then Rocko untied him, leaned over and whispered something to him as Holt collapsed on the rock, and came back to Ray.

It took him several minutes to string Ray up between two trees, but he only did the young student's arms, as, commanding Ray to climb his hips with his knees, Rocko fucked him from the front, his fists around Ray's throat, almost making him black out before releasing him to gasp for air and then choked him in cycles as the fuck continued.

Afterward, coiling up his rope and stuffing his bags of toys, Rocko said, "The Town Car is parked at the camp grounds for The Priest. We'll get that and come back for your bike."

"Where's Mr. Holt?"

"He's gone to the car. I told him where it is. I think you're going to have to drive."

Ray didn't ask why, but as they got close to the car, he could see why. The door to the backseat was open, giving Ray a view of the back interior that the smoked glass on the windows otherwise would have denied him. Holt was in back, seated, his legs raised to the side pillars on both sides, his feet inserted in the loops of the hand holds there.

Rocko would be getting in back and fucking Holt all the way back to Buena Vista.

"He's had quite a day. Keyed up tighter than I've ever seen him," Rocko said. "He'll want a serious session tonight."

"Is anyone else . . .? Do you need anyone else?" Ray stammered out.

"If you think you can take it, I'm sure Mr. Holt will be happy if I do you too tonight."

"My uncle and his boyfriend?"

"I have a feeling they'll be hanging around in Mr. Holt's basement tonight too. We can make sure they don't see what I'm doing to you, though—which is about the same I'll do to them."