Billy and the Goon - 12. Chapter 12

Billy had ducked into the hardware store, needing to buy a battery. He was still dressed from work. Leaning over the rack, he was suddenly humped.

“Hey!”

“Don’t turn,” the goon ordered.

“I can’t strip here,” Billy protested.

“Why not?”

Billy started to turn, but the goon held his head forward.

“Relax,” he said. “I’m a master, not a moron.”

Billy calmed.

“Now walk to the cash register. Left into the plumbing aisle. And go through the door on your right.”

Billy did, and the goon soon locked the door behind them.

“How do you know about all these rooms?” Billy asked.

The now-masked goon simply answered, “Left to the worktable. Face down on it. Fifty.”

As Billy pumped, he remembered that this room was where they repaired screens. He’d had one done a year before. After he’d finished the fifty, the goon pulled off Billy’s tie from behind, wrapping it around his head as a blindfold.

“Flip, spread eagle,” the goon said, and he clipped Billy’s cuffs – shirt and pants – to the table, trapping him. A row of spring clamps had lined the edge. Next, Billy’s shirt was opened and – simultaneously – his nipples were clamped with those same spring clips.

“Aaaahhh! Uh-aaahhh! Uh-aaahhh! Uh-aaahhh!” Billy wailed like a banshee – whatever that was. He’d have to look it up.

“Aaaahhh! Uh-aaahhh! Uh-aaahhh! Uh-aaahhh!” He couldn’t stop himself.

“Thought you might like that,” the goon said, unclipping. He rubbed Billy’s pecs, but to help or increase the pain?

“We’ve got to go,” Billy insisted. “Someone heard that.”

“There’s a back door,” the goon admitted. “Stay in the alley.”

He unclipped Billy’s cuffs, pulled him to his feet, and yanking down the blindfold, pushed him out the door. Billy heard the other door open as the one behind him slammed.

“Hey,” the goon was saying. “You guys should be more careful about putting away your brooms. I tripped over one – but, don’t worry, I won’t sue.”

Billy found the alley just beyond a chain-link gate and waited. Just as he was getting less sure the goon would come, the man was behind him. “Fifty,” he said, and Billy dropped, though pebbles worked into his hands.

“Flat,” the goon ordered, and Billy was glad he’d rebuttoned his shirt. Still, the goon Leaned down, pulled down Billy’s pants, and forced his dick into the stones. Then he rolled Billy from side to side. Finally, he yanked Billy to his feet, letting his pants and shorts slide down his legs.

“Lean,” the goon ordered, pointing to a dumpster, and Billy braced himself against it.

“At least, he didn’t say ‘Climb in,’ Billy thought, wondering what it was like to fuck in a dumpster.

Then, deliberate as ever, the goon mounted Billy, as if they had all the time and privacy in the world. Finally finished, he tossed his rubber into the trash, zipped, and suggested, “Better buy your batteries somewhere else.”