Peck led me inside to what was apparently his office, a well appointed room with dark walnut furniture and black leather chairs. He gestured to one of the chairs as I entered. "Sit down. Make yourself comfortable."
I sat in one of the large, padded chairs, the leather squeaking as I sank into its depths, but I sure as hell was anything but comfortable. The chair was cool against my naked skin, and I settled in the seat, my body sliding easily due to the lubrication of nervous sweat. Peck's unnatural civility was giving me the creeps. He wanted something, and I was sure I wasn't going to like it when I found out what it was.
"What's this all about?" I asked, feeling somewhat vulnerable, and more than a little out of place, sitting in this fucking fancy office wearing only the wicked, gleaming metal cockring.
Peck didn't answer but went to a bar recessed into one wall of the room. Taking two glasses, he poured several fingers of booze into each from a crystal decanter. Bringing them over, he held one out to me. "I thought you could use a drink." He smiled. Not a sneer or a smirk. It was an actual smile, and I noticed that he was a very handsome man. "Go on, take it." He saw my reluctance and his smile broadened, brightening his face even more. "I assure you, it's safe. Mine was poured from the same flask." As if to prove his point, he took a sip, then raised his eyebrows and again offered me the glass. I took it with a steady hand, although my intuition was frantically sounding the alarm.
Peck nodded his head in approval, then turned and stood with his back to me, studying one of the pictures that I suddenly noticed lining the walls. I looked around at them briefly. All were of naked, beefy men in various poses and environments.
"You know," Peck began, his back still toward me, "I understand a lot more than you may think I do." He sipped the scotch whiskey from his glass, still intent on the picture in front of him. "You see, I was once a grunt like yourself." He sipped again, then turned to face me. "That was quite a few years ago. But I always had this ... uh ... penchant for men." He grinned again, his blue gray eyes twinkling. "Truth be told, that's probably why I enlisted in the first place." He took another sip and sat on the edge of the large desk. "Things began to change when I let my natural instincts take control."
I looked at the glass in my hand and hesitantly took a sip. I shifted in the chair again, the sweat rolling down the hollow of my back, still not able to see where this was headed. I watched Peck warily, waiting for the fucking shoe to drop. He was a fine-looking man, no doubt about it. I thought it was a damned shame his head was so screwed up.
Peck hesitated for a moment and then continued on. "I was on guard duty one night with another grunt. A damned good looking farm boy, built like the proverbial brick shit house. Well, this particular night, my youthful testosterone had reached critical overload." He took a deep breath, looking at the ceiling, the corners of his mouth curled into a slight grin.
"I had decided that this hick was going to help me blow off some steam, so to speak. As our rounds brought us together, I unslung my rifle and pointed it directly between his surprised, wide eyes. I forced him to strip off his fatigues and then his underwear, leaving him standing naked in front of me, shivering in the cold night air." Peck looked at me, the smile gone from his face. "I had mastery over him, you see. I liked it. It felt damned good to have control over another human being. I made him kneel at my feet, then held my Ka-bar to his throat while he sucked me off."
Peck shrugged his shoulders, stood up and went to another of the pictures on the wall. "Well, that pretty much ended my alliance with the Corps. The little bastard turned me in and I was dishonorably discharged. But it was worth it. I tasted the power and there was no going back. I had experienced the thrill of domination, and I wanted more." He reached out his hand and placed it on the glass covering the picture.
"So, then I joined a mercenary force. Very small. Very elite. The pay was good, but the fringe benefits were the drawing point. That's where I met your friend, Dieter." He grinned, his white teeth gleaming. "We had similar philosophies, he and I. It became a game for us. We would capture the enemy soldiers and, uh, 'play' with them before killing them."
I must have registered shock at the casual statement, because Peck's brows knit together. "Oh, come on. They had to die. You're a warrior, you must understand that."
"No," I said, my voice raspy, "I don't kill for the mere pleasure of it." My stomach started knotting up. This man truly was psychotic.
"Well," Peck shook his head, "it doesn't matter. I DID enjoy the killing. The ultimate control, you see. But only as a culmination of the domination." He laughed, deep and resonant. "Oh, the things we did to those soldiers!" He turned to face me, one hand holding the glass of whiskey, the other resting behind his back, a broad grin spanning his face. Then he shook his head, "But, the organizational structure was too confining for my wants and needs. That's when I went into business for myself."
He sipped from the glass, then with a questioning look asked, "Did you know that there is a lot of money to be made from contract work? A lot of people out there need other people, um, taken care of. Finally, as an assassin, I found my niche. The power, the domination, the control. And the money, of course." He moved the hand from behind his back and swept it in a broad arc. "That's what led me to all of this."
"I was taking contract hits. One at a time. And if I took a liking to the mark, I'd play with him. I considered it a little bonus. He was going to die anyway, what the hell. Some of them would beg to die." The smile was back on his face, but this time I couldn't see any warmth. "I liked that," he continued. "Big, tough, macho men kneeling before me, usually naked by that time, quaking and pleading with me. They were mine and they knew it."
I realized that I was in deep shit now. Here I was sitting without a stitch on, listening to this lunatic ramble about his career moves, while we sipped fine scotch whiskey from crystal glasses. Just what the fuck was wrong with this picture, I asked myself. The tingling of dread grew stronger at the back of my neck. I thought about my men and L.T. and the others. All this time I thought Dieter was the madman, that maybe I could get Peck to listen to reason. Damn, was I mistaken.
Peck walked over to the bar and poured more whiskey into his glass then held the decanter out to me with a questioning look. I shook my head and he set it back on the bar, replacing the stopper before continuing on.
"One of the hits I was contracted for was a powerful drug kingpin with even more powerful enemies. Money meant nothing to either party. During the course of my usual preliminary surveillance, I discovered that the man's ranch, while covering many acres, was also extremely isolated. In addition, I found him to be a hell of a stud." Peck's gray eyes glinted and his face brightened with a hint of a smile. "I told the clients that the job would be done at my discretion, in a manner of my choosing, and that the only payment I required would be the deed to the property."
He moved over and sat in the chair facing me. "As I said, his enemies were powerful people. The deal was set."
Sitting in the black leather chair, Peck maintained his usual perfect posture. Although relaxed, he was definitely in control of the situation. He spoke casually, as if we were discussing the latest football scores.
"In the end, it was the love of solitude that was the man's greatest undoing. There were no neighbors, and his social contacts were few and far between. When the day came for me to make my move, I found him working in the barn, stripped to the waist, his torso glistening with sweat. He had the kind of body that comes from a lot of care. Tanned, muscular and well defined. A tattoo of a coiled cobra writhed on his left upper arm as he moved. He was dressed in cowboy boots and old denims which were faded white over the bulge in his crotch. I watched him for a few minutes without him realizing I was even there. I don't mind telling you, watching him greatly aroused me."
The alcohol burned in my stomach, and my heart was thudding double time. Peck sipped casually at his drink, and I wondered how a mind could become so twisted. And just what did that fucked up brain of his have in store for me? For us? I could feel the rivers of sweat running between my naked shoulder blades and down the hollow at the small of my back, forming a small puddle on the fine leather upholstery.
Peck stared at me and I did my best to hide my emotions. I didn't want him to have any more ammunition than he already had. I stared back.
The corners of his mouth lifted in amusement, as if he were reading my mind. Then, taking another sip from his glass, he continued on.
"I stepped out of my concealment and called his name. He turned to face me, obviously annoyed that someone had been so bold as to enter his property uninvited." Peck grinned, his white teeth gleaming. "His annoyance quickly turned to surprise and fear when he saw the barrel of the glock pointed at his burly, sweat streaked chest. He raised his calloused hands high over his head, exposing the dark wetness of his armpits. His adam's apple jumped in his throat as he swallowed. I think he knew right off what was going down. He offered me money, pleaded with me not to kill him. But I already had plans for this land." Peck paused, then shrugged his broad shoulders. "And a deal's a deal."
Drawing a deep breath, he slowly exhaled. "I told him to strip, and, after a little hesitation, he bent down to remove first one boot and then the other. Standing back up, his hands shook slightly as they undid the buttons on his jeans, and it became evident that he was wearing no underwear. He pushed them down and kicked them off, standing naked and apprehensive before me. His uncut cock extended from a damp mat of pubic hair. It wasn't as big as your lieutenant's," Peck chortled, a sharp, unexpected sound, "but, then...who's is?" He laughed heartily, sending chills through my body. "Nonetheless, it was impressive. Thick and heavily veined, hanging over egg sized balls which fear had caused to retract upward, pressing close to his body." Raising his eyebrows and pursing his lips, Peck nodded his head. "He, indeed, was a fine looking man."
"I had him stand with his back to a support post in the middle of the barn. I made my way behind him, with the glock steadily pointed at his head. Picking up a length of baling twine from the floorboards as I went, I pulled his arms around the post and secured him, his back jammed painfully against the sharp edges of the post. Perspiration poured from his forehead and ran into his eyes; it trickled from his hairy armpits and matted the thick fur on his chest." Peck grinned, a cold and humorless expression, his eyes like icy stones glinting with sadistic pleasure. He obviously enjoyed telling the tale almost as much as the actual experience. He savored the repulsion I was trying to suppress.
"The sweat was evidence of my power, you see. He recognized my total control over his being. Coming around in front of him, I stared deep into his eyes as he continuously blinked the sweat out of them. I placed the muzzle of the glock under his chin and he flinched, his adam's apple bobbing in his thickly muscled throat. The smell of fear exuded from his pores, heavy and intoxicating. I sucked it in. Then, bringing the cold steel down his neck through the hairy valley at the center of his chest, I continued to slide it slowly over his rippled abdomen, into his thick nest of pubic hair and brought it to rest under the base of his dick, at the top of his ballsack." Peck's grin widened, although it assumed no added measure of warmth. "I brought my face to his, nose to nose, his panic a palpable thing as he stared back through blinking eyes. 'BANG,' I suddenly shouted, and he screamed, pressing his back more painfully against the square post to which he was bound."
Peck laughed, deep and resonant as he stood and refilled his glass from the decanter, shaking his head. "I'm not sure how long it took him to realize that his nuts were still intact. Or how long it took him to exhale, for that matter. His eyes were squeezed shut and I could hear his heart thudding rapidly within his rib cage."
"He opened his eyes as I removed the glock from his manhood and replaced it in the holster. I pinched his nipples between my fingers and twisted, eliciting another shout and another series of offers, bargains, and pleading. The feel of his dense chest hair was surprisingly soft against my palms as I ran them lightly over his solid, muscular torso. Then I watched his expression change from anxious pleasure to grimacing pain as I took his heavy balls in my hand and slowly closed my fist." Peck clenched his free hand in illustration, and I could feel my own nuts crawling up under old Snake for protection.
"You know," Peck looked at me with amusement in his steely eyes, "I think the story about Achilles was all wrong. A man's weakest point isn't his heels. It's his cock and balls. Torture any other part of his body and he can endure. But strip him naked and he's vulnerable. Grab his manhood and he's yours." He nodded his head to the chrome ring at my exposed groin. "That philosophy is what led to the development of those controllers." My hand unconsciously moved to cover my unprotected crotch. Peck noticed this gesture and grinned before turning his back to me and continuing his narrative.
"I released the grip on his scrotum and walked over to a tractor stored in one corner of the barn. His eyes were fixed on me as I went about detaching its battery. I hefted it from the tractor and carried it over to set it down between his feet. Then, going to a worktable along the wall, I found a pair of jumper cables, and watched his eyes grow wide in panic as understanding came upon him."
Peck half turned to face me. "You know, the most powerful component of inflicting torment is not the pain itself, but what the mind perceives. Done properly, the psychological expectation can be far more intense than the actual physical application."
He turned away again, his head tilted back slightly, and continued. "So it was with my handsome rancher kingpin. He began kicking and twisting, all the while alternatively cursing and pleading. I had to tie his ankles to the post to keep his feet where they belonged. Then I began to have some fun."
Peck returned to the chair in front of me but remained standing, his icy eyes staring at me, watching for my reaction. "I attached the cables to the terminals of the battery and one of the other clips to his ballsack. He didn't like that at all. He screamed as the cold metal bit into the tender skin. Then I took the free clip and brought it to his left tit. The sweat soaking his chest fur acted as a conductor, and his body spasmed as the spark closed the narrow space from the metal to his skin. I repeated the procedure on various parts of his body, each time eliciting a howl as every muscle contracted. Blood dripped from his scrotum as his thrashing caused the sharp teeth to bite deeper into the skin. The game went on for quite a while, and I was afraid the battery would discharge before I was through. My favorite target, of course, was his shrouded cockhead. One of the first shocks had caused him to piss, and I had to jump out of the way to avoid the flow. From then on, the moisture under his foreskin only helped to intensify the pain. Eventually, long after his voice had given out from the screams, he lost consciousness."
Sitting again in the chair, Peck sipped from his glass as he continued to stare at me. I tried to show no reaction to his sordid, sadistic story, but I'm not sure I was very effective. It wasn't just the facts he was relaying, but the cold-blooded way in which he told them. I was frozen in place, my mind racing with unanswered questions, my stomach turning at the inhuman enjoyment he derived from his tortures. I broke his stare and glanced over at the pictures of the naked men lining the walls of the office, trying to maintain control. When I looked back, I found him eyeing old Snake, and my guts twisted in apprehension. It was impossible to tell what ideas he had for Snake and me developing inside his head. He brought his gaze up from my groin, and those damned steel colored eyes of his bored into my skull. Again, I was struck by what a handsome man he was. He smiled, his eyes narrowing and his teeth gleaming in his squared face, and then continued on.
"I wanted a shot at his asshole before completing the contract. To prove, if there was still any doubt, that he was indeed mine to do with as I chose. So, after removing the jumper cables from his balls, I untied his feet and wrists which had become bloodied from his straining against the twine. Then, using a thicker, sturdier rope that I had found on the worktable, I secured him spread eagle between two of the support posts. His head lolled forward on his chest, the hairy nests of his armpits lay exposed and inviting. I reached between his legs to heft his balls, now dangling low in his unconscious state, and stuck my nose into his left pit. He had a man's smell. The odor of sweat brought on by work as well as a tinge of fear."
"I wanted him awake and aware while I fucked his ass, knowing that I was his master. Grabbing his hair, I pulled his head up and slapped at his cheeks, but he was truly out. But that was alright. I could wait. And, while I did, I figured I might as well get a bite to eat. I left the barn and walked here to the farmhouse. On the way I found something that would make what I had planned for my mark a little more interesting. Fire ants had built a large mound several feet from the path. They're everywhere around here, and their bites are quite painful. They like being disturbed even less than my drug dealing rancher friend."
Peck's grin widened as he watched me shift uncomfortably in the leather chair.
"After having a leisurely lunch," he went on, "I removed the loaf of bread from the clear plastic bag it was in, and took the bag with me on the way back to the barn. I stopped at the ant hill and, holding the open end of the bag with one hand, scooped a good portion of the mound and its inhabitants into it with my Ka-bar. Twisting the top closed, I watched the angry insects crawling up the sides of the plastic, yearning to sink their sharp pincers into human flesh."
"By the time I returned to the barn, the rancher was awake; and, upon seeing me, he continued his pleading and offers for a deal. He was persuasive, and, despite the red welts covering his body from where I had used the jumper cables, I found him to be quite appealing. But I had a contract and a reputation for getting the job done. I stepped up to him and took his firm jaw in my hand, looking into his eyes. I could feel a fine tremor of panic. I ran my palm down his neck and chest, then took his uncut cock into my fist. I could feel his heart beat in the thick meat. Slipping my thumb under the foreskin, he twitched as I ran it over his sensitive glans and he hardened in my grip. The head of his prick poked slightly from its shroud and seeped clear, slippery precum. In spite of his fear, he was erect and throbbing. It was at that point that I opened the plastic bag and slipped it over his cock and balls, tying it tightly in place with the discarded twine. The constriction of the twine prevented the ants from escaping, as well as trapping the blood in his sizeable hard on. A questioning look covered his face as I went to the worktable and brought back a can of motor lubricant and unbuckled my belt and opened the fly. Understanding dawned on him when I hauled out my own prick and smeared the dark, thick grease over its length. He begged me not to fuck him, but I had to show him that his desires meant nothing. Moving behind his splayed legs, I nudged the head of my dick at his asshole, then rammed it in. He was tight, and I took pleasure in the fact that I was the first, and the last, to violate him. He yelled as my cock was shoved completely up his chute, the warmth of his body engulfing my meat. Then, I reached around in front and shook the plastic bag, provoking the ants and causing them to swarm. His screams rose in pitch as they began to bite at his trapped cock and balls. And as they did, his ass would spasm on my dick, gripping it tight in its warm embrace. As I fucked him, the bag swung wildly from his dangling genitals, further enraging the ants. His shrieks became hoarse gasps as he went nearly mad from the repeated fiery bites of my tiny accomplices. And all the while, my cock enjoyed the clutching spasms of his ass as I pistoned in and out. I ran my hand over the snake tattoo on his arm; then, sliding both hands over his muscular body, I savored the feel of the flesh that belonged to me. Ultimately, I fired my cum into his bowels with such force that my knees weakened and I held to his strung up body for support. It was a spectacular climax, and I kept my softening cock buried in the heat of his twitching, clenching asshole for several minutes while I caught my breath."
I again shifted in the leather chair and tried to swallow, my mouth gone dry. I tried to imagine the fear and agony that the drug lord had experienced. And I saw the prominent, cylindrical bulge extending down the right leg of Peck's trousers. He noticed my attention and ran his hand over the protrusion, the grin back on his face.
"After I pulled my prick from his ass, I wiped it off with his jeans which were lying nearby. Then, returning my cock to my trousers, I zipped up the fly and buckled the belt, adjusting my clothes as I moved around in front of him. His eyes were wild, and in a croaking voice he asked me to kill him." Peck's eyes sparked with cold fire. "There it was. He recognized me as his god. I was the one who had the power of his life and death in my hands. That's what I was waiting for."
Abruptly, Peck stood from the chair, walked to the bar. He drained the scotch from his glass and set it beside the decanter, and with his back still to me, continued. "In one fluid movement, I pulled his head back and brought the blade of my Ka-bar across his bull like neck."
Peck turned to face me, an unreadable expression on his face. "There was a momentary grunt - more of a gurgle, actually - and he slumped in the ropes. After cutting down the body, I used the Ka-bar once more to remove the cobra tattoo which I sent to my clients as proof of the completed contract. The remains… well, there are wild things out there in the jungle. They assisted in erasing one more drug runner from the face of the earth."
