Chapter 52 - Honey, You Suck! (Sunday, August 7th, Continued).
“Welcome back, my children!” The Master’s voice boomed over the speakers. “What a stellar performance in the Chococock Challenge by our voracious Justin! He certainly was hungry for a bit of cock and is our decided winner. Although, we have a secondary winner, as well - Brian, for at least partially overcoming his fear of carbs. I’m afraid that your Challenge isn’t over yet, though, dear, Brian. The rest of the day may be just as difficult for you. I fear you will once again be tested on your aversion to carbs. Especially in our next challenge, which I like to call, ‘How’s Your Honey’. It promises to be quite the sweet and sticky event. The first pair to consummate this honey of a challenge will win,” chortled The Master as the servants moved in to take over the organizing of the next event.
The house servants led the four boys away from the patio towards the back yard. Once again there was a large inflatable pool assembled on the lawn. This time, however, instead of lube, the pool was filled with several inches of dark golden honey.
Upon seeing the contents of the pool, Brian stopped in his tracks and stared, shaking his head “Shit! Surely you do NOT expect me to go swimming in that vat of sugary carbs?”
Justin, with a scholarly look, started off into yet another PSA - this time on the benefits of honey, “You should love this, Brian. Honey is great for the skin. It gently removes dirt and impurities without stripping the skin of its natural oils. It has lots of antioxidants that are good for the prevention of wrinkles in aging skin. Honey has also been used medicinally for cuts and taken internally to help fight seasonal allergies. In fact, it’s probably healthier to swim in honey than in the pool filled with all those chemicals that dry out your skin and are nasty for you to ingest.”
“Thank you, Dr. Cupcake, for that Public Service Announcement.” Brian snarked, even as he thought about the wrinkle prevention benefits mentioned, and wondered if he should add it to his regular evening regime. Maybe swimming in honey wouldn’t be so bad after all. “And don’t think I missed that reference to my aging skin, either. I’ll be punishing you for THAT later.”
“Yeah, promises, promises,” Justin returned the ribbing. “You always say you’re going to spank me and then you just never seem to get around to it, Brian. I’m starting to feel neglected, you know.”
“Now that you mention it, I never got that last spanking Brian promised me either,” Malik jumped in and added his bit to the teasing. “We demand our spankings! You can’t just go promising fun shit like that and then not following through, you know. Maybe you’re getting forgetful in your old age. Does honey help with memory problems in the elderly too, Dr. Cupcake? Maybe instead of just swimming in it for this Challenge, we should have Brian dunked daily?”
“Now, now, boys. If you keep that up I’ll NEVER spank either of you again!” Brian gifted them both with a nasty leer. “Besides, I gave up on the spankings because you both enjoy them too much. Don’t worry, though. I’ll think up some new ways to punish both of you brats and, believe me, you won’t like them at all. Maybe I’ll even borrow The Humbler from Ted again once it’s been decontaminated. . .”
Ignoring the ongoing banter, one of the servants cranked up the old Bingo Ball machine that now only held four balls. The first pairing selected would be Mal and Brian. Which, unfortunately, meant that the second pairing would be Justin and Daniel.
“Fucking shit! Again!?” Justin all but shouted in frustration. “Are you going to be able to get it up this time, Danny Boy or will I be topping again? Not that I really want your dick in my ass - or anywhere else even near me . . .” Justin said with a look of disgust and a tone that clearly showed his displeasure.
“Well, Cupcake,” Daniel growled back with a sneer, “maybe if you were the least bit appealing, my dick wouldn’t go soft at the merest thought of you. Besides, you’d best keep your little twinkie comments to yourself if you know what’s good for you. Because if you don’t, I’ll make sure that when I DO get around to fucking you that you don’t enjoy it any more than I’ve enjoyed bottoming for you. Trust me, it won’t be pleasant.”
“Are we going to have a problem here,” Brian stepped in between the two arguing men. “If you can’t stay civil, Danny Boy, I’ll call over one of the Masked Goons. I’m sure they could find The Humbler for you again. That shouldn’t slow Justin down in this Challenge at all - I’m pretty sure he can still fuck your brains out in the Honey Pit with or without you having the use of your balls.”
“Fuck you, Kinney,” Daniel hissed back under his breath, but first making sure that all the servants and other employees were out of earshot. “We won’t be in this house forever . . .”
“That’s true, but once we leave here, The Humbler will be the least of your worries, Danny Boy,” Brian snarled equally quietly but with enough venom that it didn’t matter. “If you ever come near Justin or I outside these grounds, you won’t have any balls to worry about. Although with all that juice you’re shooting, it’s pretty surprising you still have balls at all. They do look a little on the pathetic side to me though, now that I’m noticing. Hmmm. Keep it up and instead of balls you’ll end up with raisins.”
Daniel backed off, his bravado instantly vanishing and his face going a sickly grey. How much did Brian know? Shit, he thought he’d been careful. But if Kinney was onto him, maybe that schmuck Ted would be too? He needed to check and make sure his stash was still safe, but that would have to wait until later when he could get away from prying eyes. Fuck! If he could only have eluded discovery for one more week, he would have been okay. But he didn’t have time to worry about that now, he had to concentrate on the rest of the day’s Challenges. He’d work out some plan to suss out what Kinney knew and how to protect himself later. In the meantime, he forced his attention back to what was going on around the stupid pool and, still fuming at Kinney’s little jab about his balls, moved to join the others.
While the Contestants had been sparring, the preparations for the next Challenge had already been taken care of. The pool was filled with several inches of honey. Pre-lubed condoms were placed on a side table waiting to be used by the chosen tops. Brian and Mal quickly conferred and decided on a good strategy. The only hitch was that Brian was worried about Mal getting hurt in the slippery honey-filled goop.
“Mal, are you sure you’re going to be able to stay on your feet well enough? It’s slippery as shit in here. I don’t want you to get hurt, challenge be damned,” Brian asked with a worried frown.
“I’ll be fine, Big Guy. You just worry about fucking me. I’ll worry about running interference with the Cupcake and the Limp Lo Mein Noodle.”
The four pleasure slaves finally made their way into the little sugar oasis. In accordance with their plan, Brian grabbed a condom before entering the pit behind Mal. The servants directed them so that Brian was standing on one side of the pool and Malik was across the pool on the opposite side. Without bothering to strategize, Justin grabbed a condom for himself, assuming the dickless wonder would be unable to maintain, or even obtain, an erection. Daniel didn’t bother to object and just silently promised himself that as soon as this cycle was over things would be VERY different. The servant led Justin to the empty side of the pool between Malik and Brian, and then stationed Daniel on the last vacant pool edge. When the servant judged that everyone was ready, he blew a whistle and the game was on.
Since Justin and Daniel hadn’t planned anything, he figured that he would just head off toward Daniel and try to fuck him as fast as possible. The less time he had to actually spend with the man, the better. Of course, he didn’t count on Daniel’s mega-aggressive side deciding that HIS plan would be to attack the other pair first. Before Justin had even taken two steps, Daniel was veering off towards Malik and had tackled the smaller man, both of them landing face down in the pool of sticky honey. Justin looked towards Brian and rolled his eyes. Brian shook his head. Both of them headed off to try and claim their designated partner. As they carefully trudged through the sticky mess, they started to get a bit concerned because Daniel didn’t seem to want to let Mal up for air. What a total fucker! The last thing anyone needed was to get seriously injured. Yeah, it was a competition but most of the contestants had managed to compete while still maintaining a sense of humor. Not Daniel, of course.
Justin managed to reach out and grapple onto Malik’s left ankle. He tugged firmly and managed to pull his friend free of Daniel’s wrestling hold just as Brian managed to grapple onto Daniel’s shoulder and hoist him onto his back. Unfortunately for Brian, honey was really slick stuff and while he had managed to turn Daniel over, he couldn’t hold on for long to the slithery man. Daniel was incredibly agile and managed to contort his body in a wiggled martial arts inspired maneuver, easily freeing himself from Brian’s grip. As he twisted, he also managed to hook a foot around Brian’s calf, pulling hard enough to topple the tall man who plopped down on his ass in the morass of honey. Daniel smiled smugly at Brian before giving him a strong shove that ended up propelling Brian about three feet backwards as his ass slid along the honey slicked plastic bottom of the pool. Brian couldn’t wait until he was able to get his hands on the douche bag.
Meanwhile, Justin had managed to crawl over to Daniel’s side with the intent of getting the fucking part over with. Daniel was still much more interested in derailing the other pair though. As Daniel again lunged towards Malik, he saw Justin coming his way and purposely - but with a clever motion that would look accidental to anyone else - brought his right arm back and decked Justin in the side of the head with his elbow. The force of the blow flung Justin back against the inflated wall of the pool, toppling him over onto the grass when that insubstantial barrier didn’t prove strong enough to hold up his weight. Brian immediately turned to make sure Justin wasn’t hurt and help him back into the pool, but Daniel used that moment of inattention to barrel into Brian and knock him to his knees. As Brian went down, his fist flew up from the momentum and landed a solid blow to Daniel’s sore hip. The pain was enough to have Daniel staggering back, a hand going to the injury. Malik, seeing his opportunity, tackled Daniel and knocked him over onto his back with a resounding splat, creating a honey tsunami of mini proportions.
Brian slowly got back to his feet, noting with relief that Justin was also standing again and didn't appear to be too hurt. Malik and Daniel were still wrestling in the pool like two demented Sumo wrestlers, their actions proving mostly ineffectual though since the coating of honey made them both too slick to hold onto for long. Brian was not in the least bit amused and decided it was time to end this before someone really did get hurt.
"Fuck this!" Brian grabbed another condom off the table and waddled through the glop towards the grappling pair. "Hey, Mal!" He called as soon as there was a break in the wrestling action long enough to get his partner's attention. "Change of plans. Here, catch!" Brian tossed the condom, which sailed through the air and hit Malik's chest dead center, sticking in a spot of honey.
Mal peeled the condom packet off his chest and looked at Brian inquiringly. The Big Man only shrugged, as if to say there wasn't really much else they could do. Mal grinned and nodded, tearing open the condom just as Brian launched his whole body in a flying tackle that landed him on top of a still prone Daniel. Brian wrapped his long arms around the squirming struggling mass and held on for all he was worth, using the weight of his body to pin the wriggling man down so he couldn't escape in spite of the slick honey.
"Come on! I can't hold him for long in this shit," Brian barked out, trying to make himself as heavy as possible in order to slow the frantic writhing of the man below him, while Malik kneeled behind Brian. “Just fuck me already!”
"I'm trying . . . *Erphhhh* . . . Can you . . . Shit! Just hold still for one fucking minute . . ." Malik was struggling to hold onto some part of Brian that wasn’t twitching or jerking due to Daniel’s ongoing struggles. “It’s like trying to fuck . . . a greased pig . . . in one . . . of those . . . rodeos . . . you like so much . . . Brian.”
Finally, giving up on any attempt at finesse or trying to go slow to ease Brian’s discomfort, Malik just shoved his dick into Brian’s ass. The rude entry surprised Brian so much he almost lost his hold on Daniel as he hollered out a pain filled ‘AAAHHHH!’. He might have had a few more choice things to say to Mal, but his attention was immediately riveted back on the wily Daniel, who was trying to take advantage of Brian’s momentary lapse to escape. Brian refocused and squashed the squirmy little worm, using a particularly insistent - and hopefully not very noticeable, at least not to the watching servants - rabbit punch to Daniel’s side to help quell any more escape attempts. Of course, the temporary quiet that ensued only lasted a few seconds before Danny Boy was bucking and twitching again. Brian had given up on trying to do anything other than just hold on and hope that Mal would hurry the fuck up.
Justin, who was supposed to be in the pool helping out his randomly selected partner, was instead standing on the grass next to the pool hooting with laughter.
“Yee Haw!” Malik yelled as he rode the bucking, humping mass of manhood, struggling to try and stay seated. “Ride ‘em, Cowboy! Wooo Hooo! This is the best damn ride I’ve ever had,” the cocky little cowboy cried as he was bucked sideways and almost lost his mount but managed at the last minute to thrust his dick back into Brian’s backside one more time. When the furor beneath him threatened to actually die down a bit, Mal impishly reached down with his free hand and slapped Daniel’s hip with a resounding *smack*. “Come on, little dogie! Don’t give out on me now. I know you’ve got more spunk in you still.” When that inevitably got a very literal rise out of Daniel, Malik crowed with laughter. “Yeah! That’s what I’m talking about! Make me work for it! You know I love it like that!”
“Enough with the fucking rodeo metaphors, Mal. Would you just fucking finish . . .” Brian was grumbling as he lay sprawled over Daniel, taking the brunt of the man’s enraged writhing while Mal pounded into his ass. This was NOT what he thought he signed up for when he opened himself up to the idea of bottoming again.
“Oh, yeah, Baby! Make it good for me, Danny Boy. Make it good!” Mal yelled again, ignoring both Brian’s complaints and Daniel’s spiteful curses. “Here we go now. Yes! The big finish! Come on, Daniel. You can do it! Yes! Yes! YES!”
On the last of Mal’s rousing ‘Yesses’ Daniel bucked his hips up with extra vigor and actually managed to throw both Mal and Brian off his back. The still connected pair went sailing through the air, upended so that, when they landed with a huge splash of honey, Brian was now riding Mal. Which apparently didn’t bother the younger man in the least, as he chose that very moment to reach a very loud and vocal climax.
“OHFUCKYES!” Mal screamed out with glee as he collapsed backward in the sticky golden goo of the Honey Pit.
It took the poor, traumatized Brian several minutes to recover after THAT experience. He could barely move at first. Eventually, he managed to slide off Mal and topple over onto his side into the warm puddle of honey. His whole body ached - most notably his MAL-treated ass. It didn’t help any that Justin, Malik and most of the servants watching were giggling uncontrollably as he lay there moaning.
“You okay, Brian?” Justin managed to choke out between bouts of giggles. “That looked like one sweet fuck. Was it good for you, Honey?”
“Fuck you, Sunshine!” Brian groaned and rolled over so he could get up on his knees. “And fuck all your enlightened crap about how bottoming is more democratic and less homophobic. I’m going back to being a fucking top!”
The boys were given a longish break after the Honey Pit war was concluded. Which was good because Brian especially needed it. The twinkies helped him out of the pool and over to the showers where they all washed up. Then Brian was deposited on a pool lounger with a nice cold beer in hand where he could soak up some sun and float around until he had forgotten the atrocities committed on his person.
The other House Boys were also a bit beat up and had their own wounds to lick. Daniel was seen limping off alone as soon as the Challenge was over. Malik was just generally sore all over after wrestling with that human slimeball, although he’d most likely be fine with just a little rest. But the injury to the side of Justin’s face was pretty substantial. There was already a large dark bruise blossoming out from his cheek. Brian was particularly incensed by the appearance of the spreading contusion. He’d been close enough to Daniel when he ‘accidentally’ hit Justin to see that the man hadn’t been at all upset when it happened. Brian suspected that it might not have been as much of an accident as it seemed. There wasn’t much Justin could do now though, other than keep an ice pack on it and take a couple of aspirin.
While everyone was lounging around and recuperating, drinking water, tending to minor cuts or otherwise, the Residence was fairly quiet. After a little while of this pleasant downtime, Justin got up and headed inside to the little half-bath on the main floor to use the john, leaving everyone else outside. Two minutes later, the peaceful, relaxing interval was punctuated by a scream coming from inside, so loud that it easily filtered out through the open patio doors. Brian, who instantly recognized Justin’s distressed voice, dove off his pool float and swam for all he was worth to the edge. He was only a minute or two behind Malik, who was already halfway to the door.
What they discovered when they both ran through the door was a distraught artist standing in the middle of the Greatroom floor holding up several tattered pieces of paper.
When they finally got near enough, Brian could tell that what Justin was holding up were small pieces of his drawings from the missing sketchbooks. They were only scraps, obviously torn from the larger pages, and they looked like they’d been splattered with water or something. In Justin’s other hand were the mangled wire bindings that had previously held the sketchbooks together. Justin’s expression was wounded and unbelieving, bordering on absolute devastation.
“What the fuck? What happened, Justin,” Brian demanded, taking the scraps out of the young artist’s hands to examine them more closely. “Where did you find these, Sunshine?”
“The . . . the . . . the toilet . . . I went to take a piss in the downstairs john and I saw . . . These were on the floor by the crapper . . . I found the bindings in the trash under the counter . . . My drawings . . .” Justin’s voice faltered, a hint of tears in the words as he looked at what he held. ”They’re all gone. All of them. Gone.”
Brian looked at the one paper scrap he was holding and, sure enough, it was stained with dots of suspicious yellowish gunk. Fuck! It had been pissed on! Not only was Justin’s work destroyed, but it had been done deliberately and was calculated to cause Justin as much anguish as possible. Brian held out the small fragment he had in his hand for Malik’s assessment and ten seconds later they both looked up and mouthed the word ‘Daniel’.
Neither man had seen Daniel around for the duration of their little break. The big juice pig had trotted off right after the Honey Pit Challenge was done and hadn’t been seen since. Brian figured he was just off getting another hit. But apparently Justin’s scream had got Daniel’s attention too, since the suspect himself sauntered down the stairs right at that moment looking unsurprised at the scene he’d found and wearing a condescendingly smug expression.
“How dare someone tear up my books and piss on my work!” Justin’s emotions had skewed from hurt to angry in rapid progression. “Do you have any idea how many hours I put into that? That was my art. My drawings. It was like a journal of my time here. I can never recreate that . . . It's . . . it’s just gone! How could some prick do this to me? Why? This is so totally fucked!”
“That’s a very good question and I’d like an answer to that as well, Sunshine,” Brian echoed, turning towards Daniel and holding up the evidence while glaring accusingly at the man. “Why would ANYONE in this house do something so mean. So destructive? Hmmmm? Who could possibly be so vindictive?”
Daniel was leaning against the wall at the bottom of the staircase, surveying the scene and looking pleased at Justin’s pain when Brian turned towards him. He knew he was playing dangerously close to crossing the line with this little trick. He couldn’t afford to be caught or he’d be kicked out. But he just couldn’t resist getting in whatever licks he could where the irritating, bratty little twinkie was concerned. He deserved everything he got. What with his superior attitude and looking down his nose at Daniel all the time. Little fucker.
Daniel didn’t take Brian’s bait though. He wasn’t stupid enough to admit to anything. He simply smiled ingratiatingly and then limped away, out through the patio doors. The three other men silently watched him go, glaring at his back with looks that would have killed if they’d been daggers.
Behind him, Daniel heard Brian’s low-voiced comment, “couldn’t be all that steroidal aggression I’ve heard about at the gym and on the news, now could it?” Daniel wondered once again if maybe he should cut short this cycle and just call it quits today rather than waiting out the rest of the week. Kinney really was getting too close to the truth. He'd have to do something to throw any suspicion off his trail as soon as possible . . .
“It’ll be okay, Sunshine,” Brian said when Daniel was finally gone, taking the wire bindings out of Justin’s hand and tossing them aside onto a nearby table where he’d also placed the scraps of paper. Gathering Justin into his arms, Brian hugged the sagging young artist tight, kissing the top of his head and running his fingers through the thick blond tresses. “It’ll be okay, Sunshine. Just consider those old drawings practice for the masterpieces you’re going to create now. Sydney Bloom won’t know what hit him.” Brian was reassured by the weak half-smile that his Sunshine directed up to him at these words. “I’m sure Mal and I will be happy to pose for you while you draw a few hundred more pictures of our cocks. And if you need the occasional fucking for more inspiration, hey, we’ll be happy to oblige you in that too, Sunshine.”
As he and Mal led Justin back outside, Brian was again amazed, not only at the bravery of the little artist, but also at his own actions. Two short months ago, a scene like this would have had him laughing his ass off and making fun of the participants. But now he couldn’t imagine acting any other way. And he was also amazed at how deep his renewed hatred of Daniel went after this little escapade. That was one Juice Pig who better be watching his back after this. Brian was more determined than ever to make Daniel pay for everything he’d done that summer. And he silently vowed to keep an even closer eye on Justin whenever Danny Boy was around for the rest of their stay.
The group had barely regrouped from the devastating discovery of Justin’s ruined artwork, when they were summoned for the next round of 'fun'. This next game was appropriately called Blow Job Roulette. Not only did it involve ingesting even more calories, to Brian’s horror, but it sounded downright gross. For this Challenge they would each be taking turns being ‘It’. Whoever was ‘It’ would eventually get blown. But first he had to go around to each of the other contestants who would roll a die to see if they were going to be the one doing the sucking. If they rolled a ‘6’ they sucked. If they rolled anything else, they got to anoint ‘It’s’ cock with some of the dozens of food sauces and other substances that were sitting on the game table before ‘It’ moved on to the next player. When someone did finally roll a ‘6’ that player had to blow whoever was ‘It’ regardless of what he had on his dick - and he had to SWALLOW! If the player couldn’t hack it, couldn’t get whatever the combo was down or didn’t manage to get ‘It’ to come within ten minutes, that player was out. If he did accomplish his task, he took over being ‘It’. The last man standing would be the winner.
The sauce options set out on the table for them were incredibly varied. There were sweet things like maple syrup, whipped cream, chocolate sauce, butterscotch sauce, marshmallow sauce, toffee sauce, melted caramel, strawberry jelly and apple butter. There were also more savory options including soy sauce, duck sauce, hoisin sauce, tahini, oyster sauce, plum sauce, peanut sauce and sweet and sour sauce. Then there was the stuff that would be downright icky on your cock such as garlic paste, pickle juice, black bean paste, fish sauce, mustard, ketchup and anchovy paste. The ‘roulette’ part of the game was that you never knew if YOU would be the one who had to do the blowing or if it would be your competition. So you didn’t know whether to use the yummy stuff or the icky stuff. It was all up to chance.
To start off, the guys all rolled the die and the lowest roll got to be ‘It’ first. Today that happened to be Justin. The first player Justin came to around the big patio table where the game was set up was Malik. Mal rolled a ‘2’ and then, with a giggle, he spooned out a healthy dollop of strawberry jelly and dabbed it all over Justin’s dick. The next player - Brian - rolled a ‘3’, and he added garlic paste to the mix, hoping that someone else would get to enjoy that combo before the game came back to him. Daniel rolled a ‘4’ and he went with oyster sauce. Mal’s next roll was a ‘2’ and he added whipped cream on top of all the other flavors. Justin was getting a little leery of all that different shit on his dick but all he could hope for was that someone would roll a ‘6’ soon.
Finally, when Brian was up again, the die came up a ‘6’. Brian whimpered. He looked down at the gloop covered dick in front of him and cringed. The calories! The ick! And his strategy to add the garlic paste had totally backfired.
“You know, I’ve never seen you contemplate a dick with such a look of disgust before, Brian,” Justin chuckled in amusement at the horrified look on Brian’s face. “I suggest you try holding your nose and go fast so you don’t have to breathe.”
“Shit!” was all Brian said in reply as he took Justin’s advice, pinched his nose closed with his left hand and dove down onto the disgusting tasting cock. Brian, the man who bragged about his lack of a gag reflex, almost lost his bragging rights, though. The combination of flavors was really the worst thing he’d ever tasted in his life - which said a lot considering some of the places his tongue had been. He had to swallow quickly or he would have retched. But, as fast as he could, he scraped off all the goop, swallowed it down and then only had to deal with the natural yumminess of Justin’s skin. He still had the icky aftertaste though, so he didn’t linger. With his free hand, he stuck two fingers up Justin’s ass, which was more than enough to get the little spitfire to shoot his load with alacrity. At least the taste of his Sunshine’s cum took away some of the bitter taste from before.
Justin then assumed Brian’s chair at the table and Brian got the pleasure of being ‘It’. It was a very short-lived round though, since Justin immediately rolled a ‘6’ and got to happily suck off a completely bare Brian. How the fuck was that fair? Brian was only upset for about ten seconds though because as soon as Justin’s lips locked around his cock, he was too happy to care.
After Brian was through, they traded seats again. Brian rolled a ‘2’ this time and, wary of another strategy mishap, added a small dollop of chocolate sauce to Justin’s dick this time. Daniel added anchovy paste - the little fucker. And then Mal rolled a ‘6’ and had to suck chocolate, anchovy dick.
The play continued for a bit until finally, when Brian was ‘It’ and Daniel was the active player, he rolled a ‘6’. By this point Brian’s dick had been coated with about 6 different sauces, none of which were ever meant to be used together. Daniel was really not enthused about the prospect of putting that thing in his mouth. He’d actually been feeling a little off ever since the Honey Pit game earlier when he’d gotten banged up and swallowed more than his fair share of the honey as he wrestled with Brian. Add to that this particular combo and it was more than unappetizing. Brian waggled his dick in Daniel’s face with a nasty grin, though, and that was enough to get him to at least try. Unfortunately for Daniel, the combination of anchovies, chocolate, garlic, peanut butter and pickle juice was just too much for his already upset stomach. He almost immediately pulled away and stumbled off a few feet before emptying the contents of his stomach into a nearby garbage can.
Nobody else actually puked after that, but because of the ten minute time limit there were a couple of times that the remaining players couldn’t get a good enough start, as they gagged over the gross combinations, and barely got the job done in time. When the play came around again to Justin, he simply looked down at Brian’s pickle juice coated dick and gave up. It wasn’t even worth the attempt. He knew if he tried to swallow another load of cum and pickle juice he WOULD puke. He decided that a strategic retreat was better than a curdled wame for the rest of the day and gracefully bowed out.
Which left only Malik and Brian. Neither of these two seemed willing to simply give up. Since there were only the two of them, instead of one person being ‘It’ they traded off rolling the die and decorating each other. They had a little mini-showdown, trading a couple of rounds with questionable success. They were both slowing down considerably though. Brian had already been ‘It’ more than five times in less than an hour, and even with his legendary stamina, it was going to be a miracle for him to come again. In the end it came down to the luck of the roll, which Mal lost. The next roll of ‘6’ found Mal faced with Brian’s dick, which was only coated with caramel and marshmallow this time, but which was looking decidedly soft under its sugary coating. Of course, Mal, being the sport that he was, gave it the good old college try anyway. He licked all the toppings off and then sucked away, using his best technique, but it was all in vain. He couldn’t get Brian more than two-thirds hard by the time the buzzer rang at the end of the ten minutes. Which meant that Brian was the winner by default!
And he hadn’t puked even after consuming all those extra-odious calories!
Although lunch was served right after the Blow Job Roulette Challenge, nobody was really all that hungry. And, even if they had been, all their taste buds had been so traumatized that they couldn’t really taste their food anyway. The four House Boys sat around the table in the kitchen but nobody was eating much. There wasn’t much conversation, either. Mostly they were all caught up in their own private thoughts and worries.
Justin - the human garbage disposal - barely touched anything. He was still brooding about the loss of his sketchbooks, aching from the blow to his head and busy shooting ongoing murderous looks at Daniel. Brian was angry and trying to come up with some way to fix things for his little artist. Malik wasn’t sure what he could do to help. And even Daniel seemed quieter than usual - just sitting at the table picking at his food, looking a bit pale and drawn - and not up to his usual level of ego-boosting braggadocio. After about twenty minutes they all gave up on the idea of a meal and wandered off on their own to various parts of the house.
More than food, they all needed to take a break and recharge their batteries. Justin curled up on the couch in the Greatroom, and sat there dejectedly, seeming lost without a sketchbook in his hands. Malik and Brian shared a concerned look as they watched the young artist just sitting there, far too still and preternaturally silent for Justin. Brian felt the boy’s sorrow like a weight in his own gut. He did NOT enjoy the experience. He was used to being the one his friends and family came to whenever they needed something or had a problem, but he didn’t usually internalize their woes. This time, however, with Justin, he found he couldn’t help it. He was almost as devastated at the destruction of all those drawings as the boy was. He was at a loss though as to how to fix things. He knew that Daniel was responsible but, again, didn’t have any proof to use against the bully that had plagued their entire summer. But it was completely unacceptable to him to just sit around doing nothing. With a squeeze to Mal’s shoulder, a raised eyebrow and a meaningful tilt of his head, Brian directed the other man to go over to the grieving boy while he headed back outside to track down Ted.
“Hey, Bro,” Malik crawled over the back of the couch and insinuated himself between Justin and the arm rest. “Talk to me. I know you’re bummed about your sketches, but you can redo them, right? I promise to pose for you anytime you need it.”
“Thanks, Mal,” Justin tried to smile at his friend but just couldn’t pull it off. “I know I’m probably just being a big baby, but I really don’t know how I’m going to recreate all those drawings in time for this show that Brian’s friend Lindsey is supposedly setting up for me. She wants more paintings like the one I did for the Challenge too. What if I can’t do it? What if that was just some fluke?”
“Don’t you think you’re putting a little too much pressure on yourself, Cupcake?" Malik laid his arm across the back of Justin’s shoulders and pulled his fellow twinkie closer. “You’re only eighteen for fuck’s sake. You still have your whole life ahead of you. If you can’t recreate the drawings or get together the paintings in time, so what? So you don’t have a solo show quite yet. That doesn’t mean you’ll never have one. Everyone already knows you’re a phenomenal artist. You’ll probably just get better with time. And you’re still going to head off to art school, right? You’ll get more training there and learn new shit and then make even better paintings and drawings. And THEN you’ll have your fabulous show that will make you a legend and a millionaire. There’s no fucking rush, right?”
“That’s assuming I make it to art school, of course,” Justin sounded so defeatist, so unlike himself, that Mal did a doubletake. “Right now, I’m not assured of anything. I only have a roof over my head as long as I’m here in the game. When this is over, I’m back to being homeless, jobless, broke, and alone.”
“You won’t be broke or alone,” Mal rushed to reassure Justin. “I thought I heard Brian saying something about you getting some huge assed pot of money off the cum painting you already did. That’s still owed to you - no matter what the fuck happened to your other drawings - so you won’t be broke. Plus, you’re still in the running to win this fucking game, and if you do, you won’t need to worry about money for the rest of your life. And you’ve got me and Brian, so you won’t be alone. The homeless and jobless parts you can deal with when they come up. But you DON’T need to worry about any of that now.”
“Thanks, Mal. You’re a great friend. I’m really glad we met this summer, you know,” Justin sounded sincere but still too melancholy to be reassuring. “I hope we’ll stay friends after we leave - no matter what happens with the money, you know? But, out there, in the real world, you’ve already got a life. You’ve been to college and have a profession, even if you’re just starting out in it. You’ve got a job to go back to and friends and shit. I don’t have any of that.”
“That’s bullshit, Justin . . .” Mal tried to interrupt but Justin was on a roll with his self-pity train.
“No it’s not. It’s the truth. And, don’t even get me started on Brian.” Justin’s voice broke a bit, betraying the fact that they were nearing the real seat of his worries. “Brian’s this incredibly successful professional. He owns his own loft - which I’ve heard is to die for - has a son and friends and a family and a whole life. Even if he doesn’t win this competition, he’ll still have all that. But, I’ve got nothing, you know?” Justin looked into Malik’s eyes as if begging him to understand. “While we’re here, in the Residence, we’re all sort of on an equal footing. I mean, I know I came into the game without as much experience as the rest of you, but still, that didn’t really matter as long as I could keep up in the challenges. But, out in the real world, I’ll just be another stupid eighteen year old kid who knows nothing, hasn’t been to college, and has never even held down a real job. What the fuck have I got to offer to someone like Brian?”
“If I don’t win this game, it’ll be even worse. Brian Kinney won’t want to be seen hanging out with some homeless loser teenager. At least if I had the show his friend was talking about, I’d have SOME connection to him. He seemed almost proud of me when he was telling me about Lindsey’s offer, you know? But without that . . . well, let’s just say that I can’t see The Stud of Liberty Avenue wanting some homeless, friendless twink like me tagging along after him once we’re out of here.” Malik watched as a single tear escaped the brimming eyes and started to drip down the boy’s pale ivory cheek. His voice dropped even lower so that he was almost whispering at this point. “Shit, Mal, I don’t want to lose Brian. I . . . I can’t imagine my life without him in it anymore. But, without my art - or SOMETHING to make me stand out - I can’t see any way for this thing between us to work.”
Justin’s head fell against Mal’s shoulder and they just sat quietly together for awhile after that. Malik wasn’t really sure what he could say to comfort his friend. Justin was right about the huge disparity between himself and Brian, although Mal didn’t think it would matter in the long run considering how obvious it was that these two loved each other. But it wouldn’t be the first time that love alone wasn’t enough in the face of real world issues. So maybe Justin had a point. He hoped not, but who could tell.
Malik also didn’t know what to say about the rest of Justin’s salient points. The kid was right that he had a lot of strikes against him just starting out. Mal, on the other hand, had always had supportive parents who had stood behind him when he officially came out without batting an eyelash. They’d paid for him to go to college even though his Moms had had to work two jobs just to make ends meet. And he DID have a job to go back to. If Malik didn’t win this game, nothing horrible would happen to him. He wouldn’t be out on the streets or broke. He really did want to open his own physical therapy practice and get away from the PT mill he’d been working at for the past year, but if he didn’t . . . well, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. He’d just have to keep working and saving for a few more years. He figured he’d get there eventually. He wasn’t in anything like the same untenable position that Justin was. He even felt a little bad that he was maybe hurting Justin’s chances of winning just by staying in the contest. But, then again, he wasn’t about to just drop out either. Instead, Mal promised himself to do whatever he could to make sure that both he AND Justin made it through the rest of the summer so they could split the prize money.
And in the meantime . . .
Malik got up and went into the kitchen where he remembered seeing a small pad of paper in one of the kitchen drawers. He rattled through the cupboards for a while but eventually found what he’d been looking for. With his treasure held high, he trotted back into the Greatroom, grabbed a pencil he spied on a side table and plopped back down on the couch in a sprawl. He tossed the pad of paper to Justin and then arranged himself in the sexiest pose he could think of and waggled his brows at his friend.
“You gotta start somewhere, Picasso Junior!” Mal suggested. “Your model is ready. Draw me already and make sure my dick looks good, okay? If I’m going to be immortalized I want to look hung.”
Justin fumbled with the pad for a second and then looked dubiously at the pencil. Malik didn’t like the way his friend hesitated. But then, with a big sigh, Justin resettled the pencil between his fingers and made a few tentative strokes on the paper. Mal smiled widely and relaxed back against the cushions of the couch, happy to see that Justin might just make it through this rough spot with his usual undaunted outlook.