A Cocktail Before Dinner

PoppySeeds: A Cocktail Before Dinner

A cube of ice hit him in the nose as he tried to suck every last drop of alcohol from the glass. Corey checked his pocket again, still not enough for another drink. He'd already paid for two and was more than a little disappointed no one had offered to buy him a third.

He turned around and leaned against the bar. He spotted the long black hair of his conquest from the night before and waved his hand in greeting, "Hey Zach." The boy's cool green eyes looked at Corey, glinted recognition, then turned as if he wasn't worth his time. Corey felt just a moment's anger before shrugging and letting it go. Maybe Zach thought he was pursuing him for more than just a friendly fuck. There was no way Corey was getting in a relationship now, not in New Orleans of all places. There were still other flavors left to taste. Why just sample the sausage when you could have the whole jumbalia? Besides, Zach's resistance to wearing a condom had unnerved the boy more than a little. Tonight he wanted someone a little more safe.

A fresh drink was set in front of Corey and he shook his head saying he couldn't pay for it. The bartender nodded to a table in the back, "It's been taken care of." Corey followed his nod to a lithe blond creature against the far wall. He seemed to be doing more than just watching the crowd, he was examining them. When his eyes met Corey's it was like he was trying to reach into his head and pull out his brain through his retinas. The intimacy of the stare excited Corey for some strange reason and, even though part of him was spooked and wanting to leave, another part of his anatomy was begging him to stay. He raised his glass, smiling sweetly, and took a long drink before heading to the rear of the bar.

Their handshake was funny. The man had introduced himself as Jay, then slid his hand around Corey's wrist for a moment. He figured maybe it was an underground symbol of sorts. Back home, people used different colored bandanas to show their sexual interests, maybe this was a southern gay sign that he was into bondage or something. They spent some time chatting about nothing, Corey was offered (and accepted) a hit of acid and a forth Sex on the Beach before Jay made the suggestion they head back to his place.

The house was so spotless Corey was afraid to even walk. He'd been with neat freaks before but this was ridiculous. He wondered how far the cleanliness went, figuring Jay'd be the kind to flip out if even the tiniest drop of body fluid touched his skin. Well, at least they wouldn't have to argue about prophylactics.

Corey was in the library glancing through a copy of Gray's Anatomy that had been left open on the table. He found a diagram of nerve endings in the tongue and stuck out his own, pinching it in exploration. "Isn't the human body fascinating?" a voice came from the doorway. Corey let his tongue roll back into his mouth and smiled, accepting the bottle of beer he was handed.

"Yeah, it has it's good points," he smiled, stepping a bit closer. Their lips met, Corey exploring his new found knowledge of nerve endings as his tongue ring clicked against Jay's teeth.

"So, you're from Chicago?" Jay asked, slipping another tab of acid into each of their mouths. "Have you ever seen a southern slave quarter?"

The smell had hit him first. It was rancid and sour. Jay had made him strip before going out back and Corey could feel that smell seeping into his every pore. He'd lost his erection and thought he might lose his dinner but Jay wouldn't let him turn back and, for some strange reason, he let himself be dragged along. Now he was curled up in the corner of a very large refrigerator, his teeth rattling and his muscles aching from the cold. His eyes were shut tight and he refused to open them, his surroundings weren't safe. If he looked out the locked glass doors he'd see the scattered body parts of three dismembered men that Jay had set out just to spook him. If he turned his gaze away from the glass he'd see his fridge-mate, a mutilated Latino hanging upside down, his cold, dead eyes a foot away from Corey's face. He'd stopped thinking this was just a bad trip long ago, but the acid certainly wasn't helping the situation.

There was a blast of air from the refrigerator's cooling system and stiff fingers brushed Corey's toes as the body was set swinging. He screamed and jumped up, babbling incoherently as he tried to press himself into the corner far enough to disappear. The corpse seemed to be smiling at the boy and Corey felt the need to cover up his nudity from it's intense staring eyes.

Jay appeared at the open door, his arms laden with tools and trinkets he'd retrieved from the house. He smiled at Corey, ignoring his pounding on the glass, and dumped his assortment of goodies on the work bench. Picking up a large meat hook, he started sharpening it on a piece of flint, glancing up from time to time to make sure Corey was watching. He had to laugh at the shivering boy, encased like the main attraction of the Museum of Science and Industry, cupping his hands over his privates like he'd finally developed some modesty. It's a wonder what people will show to the living but hide from the dead.

Jay carried the sharpened hook over to his captive and used it to tap on the glass. "There's a place for you right there," he pointed up to the bar the hook would be attached to, right next to the grinning Latino. He wouldn't get much meat out of Corey, this one would be mainly for show. He saw the boy's eyes widen, his head shake slowly from side to side, and Jay knew he had to kill this one slowly. He was far too much fun to play with.

The blond was knocked out of his visions of lustful gore when he heard something splatter against the glass. A white and yellow ball of spit was slowly sliding down the area in front of his face and behind that, Corey was grinning maniacally and working the corners of his mouth for a second lugi.

The door was unlocked and Corey lunged, arms and legs searching for a target. He stepped on a severed arm which made him jump back in disgust. This gave Jay the opening he needed to snap the cuffs in place. Corey was pushed against a cold metal table, his legs raised up and ankles strapped in stirrups. Jay started adjusting the metal legs so Corey's thighs were spread wide and he took that opportunity to let loose the wad of spit he'd been working on, giggling loudly as it hit the bridge of Jay's sharp nose. Jay retrieved a white handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the blob off his face. He used the cloth to stroke Corey's still shriveled member. "I noticed earlier that this was the fattiest part of your body. It will make me a nice meal. I'll baste it with red wine and vinegar then grill it over hot coals. The flesh will be tender and tear apart with my fork. Your fried testicles will make a wonderful side dish. Of course, I have to get you hard first. Right now you're barely adequate for a kiddy menu."

Corey fought to resist. The fear helped, so did looking around at the slasher movie scene of gore that was his present surroundings. It took Jay over and hour of steady work with both hand and mouth before he got even the tiniest stir out of him. The drugs were still pumping through Corey's system, heightening every sensation, and they convinced his overactive hormones to declare mutiny on his brain and give into the psychopath's careful ministrations.

Another thirty minutes and Corey was at full attention. Jay tied off his sack with a piece of twine, making sure he'd stay that way until the time was right. His cloths were shed and a condom put on. Corey couldn't help but laugh at the irony of the situation, 'Yeah, this one's way safer than Zach was." Jay plunged in hard, burying himself all the way in one stroke and delighting in the strangled grunt it caused.

Corey just gritted his teeth and rode the pain, he'd experienced worse. Every time Jay slapped his raw dick or aching balls he used it to pump another burst of adrenaline into his veins. He looked around, forcing himself to stare at the scattered pieces of flesh, examining them until he became comfortable. If he hadn't let them unnerve him earlier he wouldn't be in this situation right now, about to have his most precious piece of anatomy turned into a four star meal. Jay may be taller but both boys appeared to have the same muscle mass and in an actual fight it would all boil down to whose will was the strongest. Corey laid back and stared at the ceiling, letting his eyes turn glassy and unseeing. His body was still except for an occasional twitch and he started whimpering like a frightened puppy. He acted broken, defeated, near catatonia with fright. In short, he tried to appear as little a threat as possible in hopes his captor would let down his guard.

The fucking didn't last very long. It'd been a while since Jay'd had a visitor and he was eager for the night to progress. An old steel grill was wheeled in and set up in the corner. The smell of burning charcoal helped blot out the sickening smell of death and Corey felt his stomach finally settle.

"Do you know why lobsters are boiled alive, Corey?" He watched closely for the boy's reaction. Having gotten none, he proceeded to unstrap his legs. "It's because meat doesn't taste as good if it's dead before cooking."

Corey gritted his teeth as he pulled his legs back, hitting Jay square in the chest and sending him stumbling into the burning grill. He thrust his hips up and wiggled around until his arms were held in front of him. Jumping from the table, he took the closest weapon to him, a long led with a heavy thigh. Grasping it by the ankle, he called on his reserves of adrenaline to lift it over his head and send it crashing down on Jay's skull while screaming, "My dick is a cocktail not an entree you twisted fuck!"

Corey had seen enough horror movies to know what NOT to do. He didn't assume one blow was enough, but beat on Jay's face five or six more times. He also didn't slowly closer and nudge him with his toe to make sure he was out, instead he dropped his club and tore ass to the main house. No time was wasted searching for handcuff keys or even untying the twine. He just made sure his wallet was in his pants, wiggled them on, and shoved his bound and aching cock inside.

Abandoning his shirt and shoes, he headed outside, running blindly down the sidewalk until he slammed into someone and nearly knocked them both over. "Please mister," he said, his voice frantic. "You've gotta help me. Get the cops. Get me out of here. Do something! Anything!"

The man placed a large, strong hand on Corey's shoulder and squeezed it gently. "Calm down. It will be alright. If you'll accompany me to my van I'd be delighted to drive you where ever you need to go. I even have a bit of opium to settle your nerves. Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Zillah."