(Fight Fire with its Namesake)
Agent Troy said, “Max, can you give me the name of the person who got you into the shape you were in? If we know, obtaining a warrant and a DNA test is an open and shut case. There is more to it. However, my job demands that I find out why a person remanded to state custody got to a place outside. It's broken many boundaries to be done that way. These are serious breaches of the law, both state and federal.
Max's voice dropped to a whisper, his eyes darting around the room, “I can give you the name, but it's a labyrinth of secrets, a puzzle that even a person who scores in the top 5% nationally may wonder about.”
Dr. Aikens said, “Max, I have worked with patients for thirty years. In all that time, in every single case such as yours, no matter the age of someone you deal with, they always believed they were somehow to blame. When you work alongside the quality of law enforcement, I do, when the blanket of secrecy is yanked away. Those responsible appear for what they are, human cockroaches scurrying about.”
Max said, “A car accident got me into this place. It is said that every man behind bars claims they did nothing wrong and is innocent. I am not, which is the truth. I had been drinking, and a car was clipped. It hit a man and killed him. The vehicle did, which I was charged for, the reason I am here. Two other people were in the car.”
“One of the other occupants is who was responsible, and I am not smart enough to conjure up his DNA. He was also driving the car, not me, but it was my car, and we should not have been drinking. Many would think I am seeking revenge and have difficulty believing it, but the DNA testing is unbeatable.”
Agent Troy was looking at his file,” It says here that it would be a Phillip Rogers, and this one has two names: Mark Jordan/Wright.”
Max said evenly as he looked down,” It is Mark Wright. He sometimes uses the name Jordan. That is the name of his stepfather, I believe. That is whose DNA you will find. He was also driving the car that night and too fast. I had asked him several times to slow down. That is immaterial as that is your name. The peptide bonds and amino acids are bulletproof, even if you are skeptical.”
Agent Troy knew what to look for in a liar, and this was not the one talking to her.
She asked him, “Where did this assault take place?”
Max was truthful, “It was a two-story house out in the sticks someplace? I don’t know the address, Agent Troy.”
She looked directly at him, “How did you get there?”
Max was as calm as could be. He knew this woman was trained to sniff out lies, and he never did it.
Still, he tried: “Ma’am, I don’t remember. I have questions about what road or general area leads to the same place. I woke up there with a terrible headache.”
It raked his insides not to tell the truth, yet he had been partly truthful. Once, he had to make this exception and make it work.
Agent Troy asked, “Do you believe you were drugged or hit over the head?”
Again, he told a partial truth: “That whole weekend is like a distorted movie. Only a little part of it plays, and the rest is blurred, some impossible for me to recall.”
Agent Troy’s instincts were good. She was a veteran investigator, and this one was hard to read. He was telling the truth about Mark Wright, and she would have a federal prosecutor get her a warrant based on that belief. Something still told her there was more. Was it possible someone here had drugged him? The tapes would quickly know if he had been present or not. Mark Wright’s DNA would say to them if he had been responsible.
She said, “We will review the tapes and get a warrant for a DNA comparison with Mark Wright. If he matches, that type typically doesn’t last five minutes with me in an interview room. I will quickly know the truth of it all.”
She looked down at her colleagues. Flemming was still determined, but they had several leads to pursue. The psychologist looked at her and shook her head yes.
Agent Troy told Max, “I can put you in a federal golf club while we investigate, or possibly a hotel room with a few Federal Marshalls. You are not a violent offender, so there is no worry.
He said, “Ma’am, I know I don’t get a say in this, but I have people here. I have my schoolwork, and with you investigating, someone would be dumber than dirt to try and harm me.”
She asked, “You got some more like that big guy in the examining room?”
He said, “Some are even bigger.”
She thought and finally said, “Okay, Max, we will let you remain here until we get into this, but if I get the slightest clue that you may be in danger, I will pull you out of here. I would not be doing my job otherwise. Expect to see me frequently, and you will call me if your memory clears. I want to know the very second. Go back to your cell. You know the place better than we do.”
He got up and left the room.
She said, “We will serve that warrant on Mr. Mark Wright ourselves, but I think Maxwell Stapleton knows more. I can’t tell if he is being deliberately dishonest or scared.”
She looked around, thinking, “There is more to this place than meets the eye. Now, someone is looking. I don’t miss much, and that Warden is all kinds of wrong.”
Max came back into his cell, and his Master was pacing.
He said, “I didn’t know if they would let you come back?”
His slave said, “I feel like shit.”
His Master hugged him and just held him for a few minutes.
He asked his slave, “That looked rough when they examined you.”
His slave looked at him and said, “It’s not that. They gave me pain medicine, and that stuff destroyed my stomach. Plus, it was already burning from those idiots who were pouring alcohol down me all damn weekend. I was somewhat less than honest with that lady FBI agent that isn’t me.”
His Master said, “So what now?”
Mark Wright is torpedoed in the water. My sentence will look like a vacation compared to what he gets. He will throw the governor at them to try and reduce it. He has resources but can’t stop as it will be all over the press, and he will fight. He's done much the way the Titanic did while sinking. The more he fights, the more press, the better for all of us.”
His Master reached down and stuck his tongue in his mouth, and he obediently began to suck on it and lick it with his.
His Master said, “Remind me never to piss you off.”
His slave had missed his touch so much and replied, “You never piss me off, though you do occasionally piss on me. Not frequently, but you do have a little kink about that.”
His Master reached down and rubbed his cock and his balls firmly through the flimsy shorts they had given him to put on.
The Master said, “Oh, I have missed that. Is it okay?”
Max looked up at him, “You are my Master. You never have to ask that.”
His Master continued to rub away, “What about our good Warden?”
This slave had slid his hands inside his Master’s shorts and was massaging his big cock and balls.
He said, “Well, Master, it is part of the magic show that is called prestige for him.”
His Master said, “Oh, rub those balls as it has been too long. I know what the prestige of a magic show means.”
His slave continued to work his balls with his hand, “I am not surprised. I often wonder which is bigger, your cock, or your massive IQ. All you do is fuck and read and occasionally piss on me.”
His Master said, “I won’t do that for a while.”
His slave said, “Even if I ask you to? We must begin to wrap ourselves in a blanket, much like you do to me when you will satisfy me well. A huge public outcry will occur when the truth about the organized drug trade is revealed. There is sex trafficking, all while they pay $20 for every $1 that the public pays for our prisons. The Warden is enriching himself with their money and engaging in heinous acts. The public needs a reason to stop this misuse of funds. Just like magic, it is that simple.”
His Master said, “Your hand is setting me on fire. I don’t want to ask you for sex after what you just went through.”
His slave said, “I am fine, Master, then don’t ask for sex. I have a good idea.”
His big Master leaned down and kept shoving his tongue in his mouth, and they were both playing with each other’s cocks and balls.
Master asked, “What is your idea? You are smart, too.”
His slave looked at him and said, “Just do like the kids used to joke about in high school, but you are my Master, and I will have to do it. Tell me we are going to play war, lie down, and make me blow the hell out of you.”
His Master looked at him and said, “You sure, you have been through quite a bit.”
His slave said, “I will make a deal with you.”
The Master said, “What kind of deal?”
His slave said, “I will agree to suck your cock with all you have taught me how to if you will agree to bust your nut in my mouth and let me swallow it for you.”
His Master pulled him over towards the bunks, dropped his shorts and underwear, and stepped out of them. He got on the bottom bunk on his back and got comfortable.
His slave got down and started licking on that big cock of his. Now, this was the real deal, not some undersexed punk that talked about getting this or that all the time. His Master was genuine. He took what he wanted whenever he wanted it. His slave could not quickly blow him and get his man off in three minutes. It was a big cock, on a big man that took some skill, work and dedication.
As he waited for the Master to push it up, he clasped one hand behind the other arm’s wrist behind his back. The master reached down and did exactly that—he did not attack it but licked it up and pushed it down into his mouth. None of those four over the weekend, even the asshole that got rough with him, came close. Slave Max was on the cock he was supposed to be on and wanted. He had been introduced to sex with this cock, and trained on it.
Some thought the phrase cocksucker, was an insult to a guy. Anyone that got as good at doing something as this slave had gotten at servicing this cock, would take all the insults people liked to throw. As long as his Master kept shoving it in his mouth frequently. He glided up and down on Master Richard Koufax’s considerable thickness. And he started working to get it down in his throat. If he could make his Master feel good and keep him satisfied, then fuck the rest of the world. Who asked their fucking opinion anyway?
The nature of homophobia has not changed since ancient times. Today, gay individuals have more rights and influence than ever before. This indicates which side has been progressing and which has been losing ground. Those driven by hatred were too preoccupied with trying to control the lives of others to notice that their own lives were in disarray. They were unable to see reason and were being overtaken by the passage of time.
The slave Max just enjoyed sliding up and down on his smooth Master’s manhood and the intermittent blasts of precum. He liked it when he was down on it. His Master’s cock was so big it took your breath away. He would reach and hold you that way at times, never for too long, never roughly, though he could keep you there for a thousand years and never break a sweat if he wanted.
“Fuck yeah, I have missed those nice tight lips and that even tighter throat and you never stop with your tongue. A powerful cocksucker, you have become lord slave.”
He would have to make it a point after he got the master off and satisfied to point out to him that lord slave would be an oxymoron. And quoting the emperor using Yoda syntax had probably been a mistake in the “Star Wars” script George Lucas had written. A powerful nerd, for sure he was. His Master loved it and liked that stuff as well.
Now his Master was heating up and had his big hands on the back of his head. He was pulling his Slave all the way down on him each time he slid up. Plus, he was beginning to do it faster. Yes, his slave had missed this. Time and again, he slid up, pulling as much suction as he could, and his Master would pull him back to the root of his cock.
The precum was beginning to flow more frequently, and it was like a volcano, giving signs of a massive eruption but having frequent small ones. He went at the pace his Master wanted. It was getting faster, and his head was being pushed down on it with a little more force.
Master said, “It’s time for you to fulfill your end of our bargain. I need to get that hot mouth of yours full of cum.”
His Master had grabbed both sides of his head now and had him moving up and down that cock fast.
“Oh, here comes my end of the bargain. Swallow every fucking succulent drop.”
The Master had stooped his slave about halfway down the length of his cock, and Max closed his eyes, and enormous bursts of cum began erupting into it. Slave Max had to swallow continually to get his saliva, Master’s cum, down without any getting out.
His Master’s cock was so big and thick it took up a great deal of area, and he could tell he had not gotten off in a few days.
“There you go Bitch, a mouthful of my delicious cum. Oh yeah!”
Max had gotten it under control and could finally catch a breath now and again. When the Master had stopped ejaculating, he pulled him all the way down on it and let it rest down in his throat for a minute. The big, muscled guy was breathing hard and held his head firmly but gently down on it.
Max kept his hands behind his back clasped, and the Master was finally satisfied and let him go.
His slave pulled up the big shaft of his cock and over his head and then came free of it. He climbed up on the bed and laid his head down on his Master’s muscular leg so his face was about even with his cock and balls. He leaned over and put his nose right up to the Master’s ball sack and just laid there and took in the scent of him.
His Master lay there feeling good, took a hand and put it on the other side of his balls from the slave and pushed them gently so his nose was right on them. He took his other hand and held his slave’s head in place.
They just stayed that way for a time, with the Master enjoying watching his slave smell his balls good for him, and he could feel how hard the slave was as he stuck his foot down from time to time and probed around with it. A milligram of Ativan was good to calm someone down quickly. But no medication could match this.
The Master got up and said, “On your back, you hot-looking bitch.”
The big man got up, and his slave slid up the bed and got onto his back. His Master had told him often that this would never be the norm. He was in charge, and he could make it what he wanted it to be. If anyone deserved to feel good, it was Max.
As his Master leaned over and took the shaft of his cock in a firm grasp, he leaned over and began to slide it into his mouth.
There was no way to know this, but as the Master began to half suck him, half give his slave a hand job. The doorbell to Mark Wright’s house dinged. Mark had a little sister who answered the door. She opened it, and a nicely dressed woman asked if Mark was there.
The younger girl, Jacky, said, “Uh-Hum, I will get him.”
Richard worked on sucking his slave’s dick for a while and then would pull off with it all good and wet. He would take that big hand of his and stroke the shaft, sometimes bringing his hand up and stroking it so the head was continually being stroked.
Max said, “Oh, Damn, thank you, Master.”
Mark looked at Jacky, what the fuck was it now. He descended the stairs, and a pleasant-looking woman had a big bald guy with her. Neither was smiling, and they looked official.
Mark came up to the woman, and she smiled at him, and his stepfather came up behind him.
She was pleasant and said, “Would you be Mark Wright?”
Mark paused and said, “That’s me, who wants to know?”
She said, “I am Special Agent Phyllis Troy with the FBI. We have a warrant to detain you, and there will be a speedy hearing at which you may have legal representation. Come on with us, please, and we can talk in the car. I must inform you at this point: You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do say may be used against you in a court of law.” She continued to Mirandize him, and the big bald guy came in and handcuffed and searched his pockets and gave his wallet to his stepfather. They kept his cell phone as per the warrant.
The slave Max was lying on the bed with his hands behind his back, and his Master was sliding his big hand up and down his dick at a pleasant pace. He would stop from time to time and suck it for a few minutes.
He was looking up at his slave and said, “We’ll make you feel all better, get that nice cum out of you. Keep your hands behind your back, and don’t interfere with my actions.”
His slave said, “Yes, Master, I always obey you.”
“I know you do, so you are going to lie there, and I will make you shoot your cum. Then, I will work with you on your sensitive point. Then I am going to make you eat some of your cum.”
His Master was jerking him off fast now, and it did not take long.
“OH-Master good!”
His Master watched as he sprayed cum all over his tummy and around his belly button. When he stopped shooting, he moved his hand up so that every time he stroked it, he would be on the head of his cock. He began to jerk that area quickly.
Max’s body lit up, and his instinct was to move, but he looked down at his Master. He knew the man wanted his obedience, and it was enough to make him stay perfectly still and not move a bit. Plus, he was relatively quiet. His Master had control, which was what he wanted, and what the Master wanted, he got.
The Master took some time gathering up some of his slave’s cum and feeding it to him. After this, they had a long, slow, hot shower together. They came back into the room, and the guard, Jonesy, was waiting at the entrance of their cell.
He said, "Max, sorry, but I have to take you to administration as the Warden wants to speak with you." Max knew this had been coming; it was all part of the plan. He wore shorts and the standard uniform and looked to his Master.
He said, “I may be up there for a little while, Master.”
Sitting across the desk from Warden Stanton himself, the man did not look pleased.
He softly yet harshly said, “Mr. Stapleton, I understood you could be trusted. Yesterday, the FBI and the Illinois state police were here.”
Once again, Max would have to push the boundaries, so be it.
Max said, “Yes, I know, sir, but you can trust me. When I give my word about something, I never break it. My old friend Mark Wright did hurt me, and I needed medical attention. I said nothing to the FBI regarding you or where I was at.”
The Warden looked at him and carefully considered what he had just said.
Max continued, “They wanted to take me into protective custody. I told them I wanted to stay. You are perfectly safe if Mark Wright keeps his mouth shut. His word would not be credible anyway. Is there a good way to initiate damage control if possible?”
The Warden sat back and regarded him closely, then said, “What damage control would that be, Mr. Stapleton? “
Max said, “I am not much one for this, but was Officer Estes fired outright, or is it possible to bring him back?”
Warden Stanton looked sinister, “He is up for a review hearing that could be done away with, and he could be brought back.”
Max said, “Paper and computer records can be altered, and sometimes tape backups are lost. It is a well-known fact that the man despised me. Bring him back and throw it on him. That would muddy the waters and pull any suspicion away from you, sir.”
Warden Stanton’s face cracked into an evil grin. One could almost see the gears in his head turning with the possibilities. That had been a slam dunk idea that Max had considered carefully before launching his plan. At this stage, they still needed the Warden, and he needed to believe that Max was still on his side. It was the only way to make sure this place collapsed at the appropriate time. It would also assure everyone he wanted would go free, all with solid grounds to pursue legal action against the state of Illinois should they desire.
Max thought, ‘Who’s white trash, lowlife now asshole?’
Warden Stanton asked, “So, are you willing to say that corrections officer Estes was responsible for this?”
Max said, “I cannot go that far, sir, as it would be a lie. I can, however, swear to the man’s general disposition towards me that he is often verbally abusive to me. I can also testify that one day, when I went onto the new block to tutor under his watch, I was tricked into meeting Richard’s old cellmate under pretenses. The man purposefully left the block. It was not for my benefit, plus it is all true.”
The Warden smiled at him, “I suppose we are back in business again, Mr. Stapleton. I am sorry you were treated the way you were. They had strict instructions not to cause you actual physical harm. In their case, you reap what you sow.”
Max Stapleton found it typical that this man would be quoting scripture. William Shakespeare said, “Even the devil could quote scripture for his purposes.”
Warden Stanton asked, “Do you feel recovered enough to work up here?”
Max answered, “I can, sir. Some good, steady work will help me clear my mind.”
The Warden handed him a cold can of Coke and said, “You can let yourself into the workroom. Just don’t overdo it.”
Max got up, took the coke, and exited, going to his workroom. He let himself in, started the MacBook, and started his desktop. He set Spotify to play. It was a group called Asking Alexandria, and the title was “Into the Fire.” This was just where this place was destined now.
The first round had gone to him in this match. There was still much to do. Max Stapleton was determined and not lazy. He was also so astute, and the dominos had begun to fall.
