O’Melissokomos
The Bee Keeper

Brody Double (mm bond cbt oral)

by O'Melissokomos

The very first thing that told me I was conscious was the rank stench of sopping wood filling my nostrils. I recoiled and coughed at inhaling the foul air. I opened my eyes to see where I was, but I couldn't see a thing. Everything was black. Holy shit, I thought, why couldn't I see anything? I instinctively tried bringing my hands to my face to check out my eyes, but I couldn't move my arms. In fact, I couldn't move at all. That was when I realized that something was very, very wrong.

At first I panicked. I mean, who wouldn't in a situation like this? I tried calling for help, but my mouth was gagged. I tried shaking off what was covering my eyes or least loosening it, but it was fastened too tightly. Next, I tried standing up, but I couldn't even manage a decent budge. As far as I could tell, I was seated down and my hands were tied behind me. I couldn't move my legs either; they were strapped to whatever I was sitting on. The adrenaline was pumping through my body now, and I struggled even more fiercely to free myself but to no avail. All I succeeded in doing was tiring myself out.

Fuck, how did I get here? What was the last thing I remember doing? (Think, man, think!) I was at work. (Yeah, that's right.) I spent the whole day there, and then I decided to go home. It was almost midnight, I think. (Go on... what's next?) I remembered taking the elevator down; I remembered stepping out. And, yeah, I saw where my car was parked, and I was walking towards it, and... and... nothing.

That was it. I had nothing. I had no idea what could have happened to me. Now I was awake, I didn't where I was or who did this to me. Why? Why would someone, anyone, kidnap me? What did they want? Was my family safe? Oh my God, what if they were after them too? Fuck, what if they were here? I began screaming my guts calling out to my wife and children, but all I could hear were my own pathetic, muffled cries.

Then from nowhere, a voice spoke out, "Oh, you're finally awake."

Oh shit! Someone was there! Was it the kidnapper? Most probably was, I thought, as I tensed up in an effort to pinpoint where the sound could have come from. Was he in front of me? Behind me? Where?

"Sorry about gag," he said. "I wasn't quite sure if you'd wake up before we got here."

The voice definitely belonged to a man, I was sure of that, but why did it sound so familiar? Did it belong to someone I know? My frantic mind attempted to find a match from friends, family, clients... anyone I knew, but I couldn't place his voice at all. I was almost positive I'd heard it before.

"Here, let me help you with that." The voice came from behind me, and I could feel my gag being cut loose. Once my mouth was free, I immediately took in deep breaths and choked at the horrible stink that almost made me sick. Sure it was bad, and I still couldn't see a damn thing, but at least I was able to breathe normally again and talk.

"Wh-where am I? What am I doing here? Who the hell are you?" My voice was raspy from all my screaming.

"So many questions..."

"Fuck you, you bastard! Why did you kidnap me? Someone's gonna come looking for me..."

"No one knows where you are, Mr. Brody. They don't even know you're gone."

"Well, obviously you know who I am. Who are you? Did someone hire you to kidnap me?"

"No. It's just me." He sounded amused at that notion.

"So, who the fuck are you?"

"You'll know soon enough," he said ominously, and this time I sensed he was directly in front of me. I felt him tugging on my shirt, and I flinched at the rough hand that slipped inside and started rubbing my chest.

I protested, "Hey, get your hands off me!" Without warning, the hand dove down to my ribs and started tickling me. Oh fuck! How did he know? I yelled for him to stop. "Hahaha... stop... please... hahahahahaha... shit... I can't stand it... hahahahahaha!!!"

"You were always ticklish there, weren't you?" the man remarked, and he intensified his merciless assault on my unprotected ribs. Tears were spilling out of my eyes as I bawled, laughed, shrieked, squealed, and cried. I had never been tickled this badly in my life, and he just kept at it like a madman.

"No, no, no-o-o-hahahahaha... Please, I'm... aaaaahhh... Stop!!! Hahahahaahaaa!"

Just when I thought I was going to burst my sides, he broke off his attack and left me gasping for air.

"There, that ought to be enough to soften you up."

I was seething. "Huh-huh-huh... you... huh-huh... fucking... assho-"

I didn't get a chance to finish my sentence as I felt his hand grab my mouth and his thumb plug one of my nostrils shut. I trashed my head as wildly as I could to throw him off, but he was too strong for me. He held my head in place and kept me breathing through one nostril only until he jammed something into it.

"Mmmmmppph!!!" I tried pulling away from the strong, acidic smell that shot right into my brain. What the hell was that, I thought. Oh man, shit, it's making me dizzy... my head... fuck... what's happening to me? Aaaaah... fuuuck... so warm all of a sudden... why? Can't stop...

"That's it... breathe it in. Feels good, doesn't it? A few more sniffs ought to do it. There we go."

I barely noticed he removed his hand from my face, and I just sat there in a daze as whatever he forced into me made its way through my body. I started to sweat and breathe heavily. The warmth spread like quicksilver and brought with it a sensual feeling that seeped through my pores. Fuuuuck...

Time slowed down; every sensation became more pronounced. It seemed forever before he spoke up again. "You've kept your body in good shape, Mr. Brody. I always thought you'd be the type to let yourself go, but I'm glad to see you've taken very good care of yourself."

I didn't know what the hell was going on. My brain was on fire and so was the rest of my body. He pulled open my shirt, revealing my sweaty torso from the shoulders down. As much as I twisted to get away, I was tied up too tight and suffered the indignity of being felt up against my will. He used both his hands to caress my pecs and massage my abs, and I was too exhausted to object.

"Fuck these beautiful muscles. Oh God, they're absolutely perfect. You must have gone nuts when you woke up with this body. It wasn't more than one hundred sixty pounds then. What are you now? One-eighty? No, definitely more."

I suddenly felt a hand grope and squeeze my crotch. Whomever it was who was fondling me knew exactly what buttons to press, and after a few seconds, I could feel my cock stretching and hardening in my pants.

"Please..." I begged. "I have a wife... and two children... aaaaah!" He tightened his grip on my dick and continued his expert manipulation. What made it so much more difficult for me was that I was sitting down, and my cock had nowhere to grow.

"C'mon Tom. Don't tell me you hadn't had a man touch you there before."

"No, never..." I protested. "I don't go... for faggot shit... like that!"

"Yeah? But I do," he replied, and strangely, he stopped mauling my manhood. I let out a sigh of relief; I thought I was off the hook. I was about to talk to him when my mouth was pried open by unbelievably strong fingers. Before I knew it, something hard and fleshy plunged right past my lips and began moving in and out my mouth.

"Huh, your cock's too good for me, is that it? Fine, how's mine?" he grunted. "And you better not try to bite me, you sorry piece of shit, or you'll regret it. Now, sit back and enjoy the ride."

Holy shit! He was raping my mouth with his cock! I gagged every time his dickhead banged against the back of my throat, and I couldn't shut my jaw. I was too zonked from the poppers to resist, and the sheer size of his tool prevented me from retaliating. It was that huge.

"Oh yeah! You've got one hot hole there, buddy... aaaaah... aaaaah... nnggggh... fuck... I'm already getting close!" he roared as he shifted positions to improve his leverage. "Shhiiiiiit... yeah... oooooh, fuck yeah!!!"

I didn't know what else to do. My futile attempts of resistance were easily overwhelmed by his powerful onslaught. Hell, it probably made him hornier. I actually began to taste the precum that was flowing out of his cock.

"Nnngggggh... almost there... I'm gonna... c-cream right in your f-fuckin' mouth... any s-second now... uuuuhhh..."

I was crying. The Lord knew I didn't want this happening to me, and I begged God to strike the man dead and set me free. Please, I prayed, let this all be just a horrible dream. But I knew it wasn't a dream; it was a nightmare. And it was real, as real as the scorching cum that started shooting down my throat. The man who was fucking my mouth thrust his lance through and shouted in triumph, "Aaaaaaaaaaaahh!!!"

On reflex, I began swallowing his load that threatened to choke me if I didn't dispose of it fast enough. I alternated between gulping his semen and sucking in oxygen, and I was freaked out by how much jiz that was flooding my throat.

Finally, he ceased shooting and pulled out from my violated orifice. I took the opportunity to spit out whatever lingered in there, but I couldn't completely get rid of the salty, scummy taste. What made me more ill, however, was knowing I actually drank down the stuff. I wanted to puke the semen out of my stomach.

"You give good head!" he smugly said.

"You bastard!" I spat out.

"Now, now. That was just the beginning," he promised. Once again, he caught me unawares when he covered my mouth his hand and shoved the bottle of poppers back up my nose.

"Nnnnnnnhhh!" This time, he took much longer before letting me go. He wanted to make sure I was thoroughly soused with the drug, which I was, much to my dismay. Whatever sensations I felt the first time were now doubled, tripled. Even though I was bound tightly to my chair, my body writhed in pleasure, and my cock screamed to be freed from its fabric prison.

Then I sensed my captor approaching me. Even though I couldn't see what was happening, I knew what he was doing next. He opened my belt and my pants, and he drew out my 8-inch erection. It must have been right in front of his face as I could feel him breathing on it.

"Oh man, it's bigger than I remember it," he said, lovingly stroking my prick.

Wait a fucking minute--he's seen me naked before? I tried to remember everyone I'd met in the gym (one of the trainers maybe?), but my popper-addled brain couldn't muster the muscle to think things through. "W-who... *are* you?" I asked, but he just ignored me.

"Shit, it's so hard. And it's so hot."

And it was. He was using his thumb to massage the shaft, and I could feel my dick respond in kind by getting even stiffer.

"Ooooooh..." I groaned.

"Yeah, I knew you'd like that," he chuckled, speeding up and increasing the pressure on my penis. "But I bet you're going to *love* this."

Something hot and wet engulfed my cock. It traveled quickly from the head down to the base of my stalk. I never thought it was possible, but he put my entire dick in his mouth, and he was blowing me! His tongue tangoed with my throbbing tool, and my balls danced along in perverse delight. I gasped aloud when he started bobbing up and down with much thorough attention directed towards my glans, which flared favorably in response. How the fuck did he know it was one my sweet spots? Oh shit, it felt so good.

"No... no... noooaah... aaaaahh... aaaaahh!" I was moaning like a cheap whore, and I didn't know how long he kept me on edge. Every time I was on the verge of cumming, he paused and let my hard-on deflate. In the meantime, he'd suck on my nipples and lick my chest and abs. Once he was done, he'd return to tormenting my cock and repeat the cycle all over again. The bastard played me like a sax, and in my heightened state of arousal, I groaned out wanton notes of approval. I no longer cared about my humiliation. I was totally helpless and totally at his mercy.

"Fuuuuuck... please... l-let me c-cuuummm... oh God, oh God... I can't... shiiiit!!!"

He didn't answer verbally; he did, however, reply orally as he deep-throated me all the way.

"Aaaaaaah!!!! Shiiiiit! Huh-huh-huh-huh... aaaahh... mmmnnnngggghhhh..."

I could hardly describe what was happening to me. Here I was all tied up and unable to move anything except my head that was flailing in every direction. Because I couldn't see, my other senses were more intensely aware of the unknown sexual sensations I had never noticed before: the smell of sex emanating from my own body was invigorating, I could taste the very air that I sucked into my lungs, and my skin sizzled in anticipation of my imminent ejaculation. It was nothing I ever experienced, and I didn't want it to end.

And then, he stopped. I couldn't believe it.

The motherfucker stopped blowing me and pulled off just I was about to really finally cum. I waited for him to go back and finish the job, but he never did.

I was flummoxed, I was livid, and I went absolutely berserk. "Noooooooooo!!!! You *can't* do this to me! I was there! I was *right* there! Fuuuuuck... whhhhhyyyy? P-please... I'm begging you... just get me off... aaaaaaah... my cock... it hurts so bad... aaaaaah... oh, God... why?"

My furious erection rioted, and its angry appeals for relief were ignored even as I tried everything I could think of to shoot my load. But it was hopeless. In time, it began to die down and dissipate, as did my determination. My plaintive cries were reduced to feeble sobs. The man had won, and I was utterly beaten. He had turned me into a terrorized mass of blubbering flesh, and I was completely vulnerable to him now.

"So, how does it feel to have something precious taken away from you, Mr. Brody? How does it feel not to have control over your own life?"

I didn't answer. No, I couldn't answer. I couldn't even lift my head up from my chest anymore from the shame of my defeat.

Still, he persisted. "Look at you; you're pathetic. You've forgotten everything about yourself, haven't you? Who you *really* are?"

"Forgotten what?" I cried out. "Please... just tell me what you want. I'll pay anything if you'll just let me go."

"Oh, I don't want your money, Mr. Brody. In fact, there's only one thing I want from you."

"Then tell me, God damn it! Stop fucking me around!" I screamed.

For almost a minute my captor kept quiet. I didn't know where I found the strength to challenge him now, but his incomprehensible questions had revived my defiance. I could hear him walking around me, and I could feel the heat of his gaze burning into my skin, but I stood my ground and firmed my resolve. One way or the other, I was going to get to the bottom of this.

Suddenly, the footsteps stopped, and I cringed at the hot humid breath that brushed past my ear when he calmly whispered to me ever so menacingly...

"I want my life back."

And with that, I yelped in pain as my blindfold was forcefully torn off my head, and my eyes took a few seconds to acclimatize to my unknown surroundings. I looked around to find the face of my captor, and my jaw dropped to the floor once I recognized whose it was. Suddenly, an image of lightning bolts streaking through the night sky flashed in my mind, and an entire flood of memories came crashing through. Everything started coming back to me--the wind, the rain, the storm--but I still couldn't believe who kidnapped me.

It was *me*; it was Andrew Fletcher, the man who I used to be.

To be continued: Tom Brody rediscovers the truth of his identity.

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