They climbed to an upper level of the facility, and down a few hallways that looked like the interior of a college dorm more than anything else. They came to a door marked “Jackson / Initiate (Tanner Wilkins)” and went inside. It was a small dorm, basically, but with one full size bed on one wall and a cot on the other. They also had a small bathroom with a toilet, sink and shower. “This is…nice.”
“Don’t get too comfy, you aren’t going to be here for long,” Jackson said, and shut the door behind them. “Now, the band. It can do a lot of things, but most important is that the band is how your hormones will be distributed. That said, because you’re my initiate, I have pretty much complete control over your band. For example, if I do this–” Jackson turned the screen of his band on, pressed a button, and Tanner felt a prick on the inside of his wrist. “We can have some real fun right away.”
Tanner wanted to ask what that meant, but the words came out as a muddle, his vision blurring, and he collapsed to the floor in a heap. He was still perfectly aware of what was going on around him, but couldn’t move a muscle–everything was limp.
“Your file says that you raped her while she was drunk–but this seems much more efficient, and I know you’ll remember everything. How do you feel, comfortable? This is usually designed to subdue troublesome candidates, but can be used for other activities as well. It usually wears off in an hour or so, which is plenty of time.”
Jackson stripped off his clothes as he spoke–all of them–revealing a body coated with hair from neck to the tops of his feet, with a massive, nine inch cock half hard hanging above two massive bull balls. Then, he got down and started hauling off Tanner’s clothes, and all he could do to protest was get out a meek mumble.
“I believe you said, when the police interviewed you, that she never said no–right? Well you can’t say no either, so I guess that means, I can do whatever I want,” Jackson said, running his calloused hands over Tanner’s smooth body, finding his ass, spreading his cheeks and pressing his hand against the hole, which loosened immediately as he pushed. “I think you also said something about how she sounded like she enjoyed it–how about that? Would you like to enjoy this? Maybe later, I think, but the band can do that too.”
Jackson climbed on top of him, Tanner desperately trying to get his body to respond to his rising terror, but nothing happened aside from a few twitches, Jackson pressing his massive cock to Tanner’s hole and sliding inside. It hurt. It hurt, but he couldn’t do anything. He realized he was crying silently as his counselor raped him roughly, both hands clutching his hips, hauling his limp body backwards onto his cock. He didn’t know how long this lasted, but no one came to pull Jackson off like those men had pulled him off and called the police. Is this really what it had felt like? No–no, he hadn’t done this–this was horrible, but he wasn’t horrible like this!
“Now…How about…we make you like it, eh?” Jackson said, ramming his cock home each time, and then adjusted his watch. Another prick, and a new sensation flooded him–pleasure. Simple, basic, pleasure. His cock grew hard and started to leak as Jackson continued fucking him, and now–now it felt amazing, but now he only felt worse! He felt betrayed by his body, as he found himself eager for each thrust, trying to push back but still unable to move a single muscle. “You’ll be happy to know that this lovely substance doesn’t just made things feel good–it makes things always feel good. After I give you a few more shots of that stuff, getting fucked will always feel this good for you. How does that sound?”
That couldn’t be possible, could it? No, he had to be joking. Jackson kept fucking, and soon enough, Tanner wasn’t able to hold back, and he came across the carpet beneath him with an involuntary shudder.
“That’s what I was waiting for–welcome to the club, Tanner–this is what Halverson is all about!” Jackson picked up his pace, cumming a few moments later, deep in the young man’s hole, and then pulled out and got up, finishing his cigar and snuffing it out in an ashtray on the table. “Now–why don’t you just go ahead and hang out in here–I’ll be back in a few minutes with some food for us both–after all, we can’t have you growing on an empty stomach, right?”
Jackson got dressed, opened the door, and left–but from the sound, Tanner could tell the door was still open, where literally everyone could see him as they walked down the hall. Why would he do that? He was both terrified that someone would see him like this, frozen in place with cum dribbling from his ass, or hopeful a guard would find him and help him get to safety. In the end, it was two guards who came along, chatting, and stopped at the doorway.
“Well damn, Jackson didn’t waste any time.”
“He never does–but ain’t that the kid? That rapist everyone was freaking out about online a few months ago?”
“Shit, it is, isn’t it? You want a turn?”
“Nah, but you go ahead if you want.”
Tanner screamed inside his head as heard the guard unzip his fly, and for the second time in his life, and for the second time that hour, a relative stranger fucked his ass, and Tanner wondered what, exactly, he had volunteered for…and realized he’d been tricked by that damn prosecutor. This wasn’t a deal at all! This–well, he still didn’t have much of an idea of what this was, but it was clearly a nightmare. But now, the only way out for him was through.
Bracken's Corner 