Scum

Chapter Three

Wednesday 2:12 pm

Derek crouched in the corner of the dark room, as he had been told, and waited. His eyes stared at the opposite wall, as if he couldn't see it, and he didn't make a sound. His only thought was of his Master, and the large bulge in his Master's jockstrap.

He kept his hands away from the hard leather jock he wore. The leather was thick enough and hardened so that he couldn't feel his dick or balls through it. Several tiny holes in the pouch of the jock allowed his piss to drain out onto the floor.

He couldn't even think about the images and words that flashed on the wall. The strange thumping music seemed to keep beat with his heart, with crackles of static through it all.

6:24 pm

Derek heard the heavy lock slide open, and the thick metal door swung open. He lowered his head, staring at the pool of piss on the floor. The sound of hard boots came towards him and he saw them come into view, stopping just short of the pool of piss. A harsh chuckle came from above him.

"Well, well," his Master sneered. "Isn't this fuckin' cute? Sitting in your own piss. You like that? Wallowing in your piss?"

"Sir, thank you Sir," Derek answered, his voice slightly slurred. His Master grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him forward, so that Derek's face was ground into his Master's crotch. He felt something being pulled off his back, just below his neck, like adhesive tape. His Master had put something there before disappearing.

Derek heard a sound, like two pieces of paper rubbed together, and his Master slapped him on the back, in the same spot as before. The skin there felt tight, and Derek felt light-headed.

His Master fastened something around his neck, and Derek saw the chain that connected the collar to the loop of leather in his Master's hand. He felt a tug on the leash, and he immediately dropped to all fours. He watched as his Master unzipped his denim pants, and pulled out his cock. A stream of piss washed over Derek, and he tried to catch it with his mouth. His Master kept jerking on the leash, making him miss the stream, and kept pissing all over him. Finally, only a single large drop remained on the tip of his Master's cock.

"Better make sure it's all out, Scum," his Master laughed, and Derek lunged forward to envelop his Master's cock with his mouth, sucking the last few drops of piss from the thick tool. He kept sucking, eagerly, his tongue lapping at the metal ring in the head of the cock. Derek hoped fervently that this time he'd get to taste his master's cum.

His Master pulled back, and Derek moaned pathetically. Suddenly Derek was knocked over in an explosion of pain in his face. He looked up from the floor, his eyes bleary, trying to figure out what had happened.

"Get up, you fucking insect!" his Master screamed at him. Derek started to scramble to his feet, but he was punched in the stomach, falling to his hands and knees. "You don't ever stand up without permission! You think you have the fuckin' right to stand up, like you're a fuckin' man or something? You're not a man, you're a fuckin' scum-sucking piece of shit! Do you understand me?"

"Sir, yes sir!" Derek blubbered, trying to catch his breath and remain on all fours. He felt his master's foot on the back of his knee, and then was shoved, his knee scraping painfully across the concrete floor as he fell onto his side.

Derek was dragged across the concrete floor, further scraping his knees, hands, and his left hip, and his Master quickly locked him to the bolt in the middle of the floor again.

"Until you learn to behave and follow orders, you're going to stay right there," his Master hissed. Derek heard him walk out of the room, but the door didn't shut. The sound of his Master's boots returned within a minute or two, and something plopped wetly onto the floor in front of Derek, in the middle of the puddle of piss. It looked like a pile of brown goo.

"I was going to let you eat from a plate, but you just proved you're not fit to eat like a human being. You can eat it off the floor." Before Derek could lower his head to the goo, his Master locked his hands to the two rings on back of the belt of the leather jock, and forced his face into the goo. It tasted like a bland beef stew, but it had the consistency of thick gravy. Some of it went into Derek's nose as his face was shoved into it.

"You know, I have to wonder why I waste my time with scum like you," he heard his Master say, as the boot-steps left the room and the heavy metal door slammed shut. Derek sobbed through the greasy goo that covered his face as he heard the metal lock grind close.

Still sobbing, he began to lick up the goo, and muddy urine, from the floor. As the drugs in the patch took hold, he began to moan as he licked in all up and his dick got hard inside the hard leather pouch.

9:35 pm

Derek cringed as the door swung open suddenly, and his master swaggered into the room.

"Fucking scum!" his Master swore. "You're nothing but a big-assed inconvenience. A fucking weight around my neck. What the fuck are you good for, anyway? You think I can take you to the bar, let the other Masters know what a fucking bad-ass I am? Fuck! I even have to walk all the way down here just to take a piss! What the fuck is the good in that?"

His master took a few unsteady steps towards Derek, and then sank to the ground, swaying as he let his legs kick out from under him. The beer his hand settled to the floor, and tipped over, spilling foaming beer on the floor.

Derek scurried forward to lick up the beer.

"Thank you sir," he piped mindlessly. As soon as he was done, he looked hungrily at his Master, and backed up half a step, waiting.

His master blinked at him a few times and then flashed a cocky grin.

"Not bad, scum, not bad," he grunted. "Come 'ere."

Derek crawled over to him, and sank down a little. His master raised a hand and ruffled the hair on Derek's head. Then he grunted as he undid his belt and unzipped his fly.

"Think you're ready to take it all, scum?" his Master asked.

"Yes, sir, thank you sir," Derek said happily, gobbling up his Master's cock. He sucked on it greedily as his Master let loose the stream of beer-piss. As Derek swallowed the piss, the cock in his mouth got hard. He continued to suck for several minutes after the stream ended, and then started to back off. But his Master's hand was on the back of his neck, urging him onward. Derek sighed around the cock, and went at it some more.

His Master held something under his nose.

"Take a deep whiff, scum," his Master urged huskily. "You'll like this."

Derek did as he was told, and something exploded in the back of his head. He went back to sucking the cock before him with a new intensity, reveling in the taste and the feel of it. He heard his Master give a deep, noisy sniff and the cock in his mouth jumped.

His Master began to grunt and drive the cock deeper down Derek's throat. Derek moaned as well, desperate for more. Then the cock began to twitch in his mouth, and Derek sucked down the load of thick creamy saltiness that poured into his throat. Even as the spurts subsided, he continued milking the cock with his lips and throat. Finally, his Master placed a hand on his forehead.

"Easy, scum, easy," his Master mumbled, and Derek regretfully let go of the cock, breathing heavily. His Master lowered himself back slowly, lying on the concrete. Derek watched him for several minutes, and then laid his head in his Master's crotch so that he could breathe in the sticky musk emanating from the cock and pubic hair that brushed his face.

Friday 6:14 pm

"Yeah," Jock said into the phone.

"Yo, man, this is Gears," the other voice announced. Jock kicked his own feet off the desk and leaned forward.

"Tell me you got something," Jock breathed. Lachlan, across the two desks placed front to front, looked at him suspiciously.

"No, but you just answered mine," Gears replied. "I called to ask if you guys had gotten any closer to tracking down the kidnapper. Hit one of the bars last night, and people are getting antsy. Half of them want this Hunter guy found, the other half hope you never find him."

"Well, half of them might be getting their wish," Jock replied, hunching down with his elbows on the desk.

"Sounds like it's the half that thinks Hunter belongs down a deep well," Gears noted humourously.

"Sounds like," Jock told him. "We've checked every department within two hundred miles. With the exception of the one that was in your shop with the bad transmission, every one of them is accounted for. And Senior Agent Wilson even made me double-check the video footage for your shop, it didn't move all day."

"Yeah, I had to let that sit while I worked on that four-car on 395," Gears drawled.

"Well, Wilson is about to put the file in Cold Case," Jock told him glumly. "Let me know if you hear any rumors at all, OK?"

"Any time, buddy," Gears replied. He hung up, and Jock replaced the handset of the phone, sighing bitterly.

Gears leaned back in his chair, buck naked. He took a pull on the beer in his hand and then poured some down his abdomen, into his crotch. Derek lapped the beer up out of his pubic hair and licked at his dick. The naked man on all fours before the chair leaned back on his heels, watching Gears expectantly.

"They're not looking for you any more," Gears told Derek,whose gaze did not waver from Gears' dick. "But if you show up somewhere, they'll find out. I guess you and I are homebodies for now." He pulled from the beer, and spilled some more. Derek darted forward again, a big smile on his face.