Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: The Pact:  Episode 3 -- Interventions
Part: 22 of 40
Universe: The Pact
Summary: The boys hatch a plan to energize the football team using their
excess feminine resources -- but they stumble onto something dark in the
process...
Content: mf caution

The Pact:  Episode 3 -- Interventions

Chapter 22

	At the thoroughly unaccustomed time of five a.m., Candace dragged
herself from her bed and wandered around awakening those who had business
elsewhere, then busied herself making like the good hostess.  Alyssa turned
out to help and they managed to put food in front of Beth, Robert, Hank, and
Lon and push them out the door in time to make their various appointments,
then Candace grunted, "I'm up WAY too early!  Call me when Sally arrives!"
and left Randy and Alyssa to handle things for another two hours.

	Maddie got up with Hank; they moved her to Lon's room and put Pietro
on the pallet when everyone left; Marta slept through the change in
arrangements, as did Pietro.

	Sally arrived at nine, was briefed by Randy and Alyssa, and was left
in charge until Candace got up the second time after ten; by then, everyone
else was awake and Pietro and Maddie had been fed. Randy and Alyssa went
home, stopping off at school on the way so that Toby could take the van.
Randy drove Toby's car home.  "Has anyone gone downstairs lately?" Candace
asked Sally.

	"No.  I've just seen him on TV," Sally replied.

	"I guess I'd better, then," Candace sighed, and started getting out
of her clothing.

	"Ummm, why are you...?" Sally asked.

	"It's a disguise," Candace replied, chuckling.  "Misdirection.  Sure,
I'll be wearing the mask and carrying the little voice-disguise thing -- but
if he's looking at my hooters, he won't even think about looking at my face!"

	Sally giggled.

	Candace left her panties on, and rigged up a belt for the voice
machine from a cloth strap, then attached the microphone clip to her mask so
she had both hands free.  Going downstairs, she entered the holding area.
"So here is the mighty beater of women and children," she said scathingly.
Circling around behind him, she lifted his head and released the gag strap,
then deflated the gag and removed it.  "And how are we this morning?"

	Fernando could barely even croak.  He'd drooled half a pint of saliva
around the gag overnight and his mouth didn't work very well.  Candace stood
watching him as he tried to get his jaw to creak shut.  Beth was better at
this shit than she was -- and Lon and Damian were better than that, probably.
Still, she had a recent memory that she was going to be sure to recommend to
somebody...

	"Water," Fernando croaked.

	"No please?  Such manners..."

	"Please..."

	"That's better.  I'll be back -- don't go anywhere!"  She headed back
upstairs and called Toby.  "What are we doing for Shithead?  I pulled his gag
and he asked for water."

	Toby pursed his lips.  "Water, yes, food, no.  You can pull the butt
plug -- Fred will be along to replace it about noon."

	"With what?"

	"His dick," Toby chuckled.

	"Will there be a mess?"

	"Not after four enemas," Toby replied.  "If you want to play, go
ahead -- but we don't want to leave anything obvious or long-lasting."

	"Okay.  You might want to get another one of those noise boxes,"
Candace recommended.

	"Good idea."

	Candace made some preparations and headed back downstairs.  When she
arrived, she flourished a water bottle.  "This may look like Dasani, but you
don't rate it -- it's plain old tap water.  Open up."  She squirted water
into Fernando's mouth, deliberately making a mess and overfilling it and
squirting his nose and whatever else she could think of until the bottle was
empty.  "You really need to learn to drink better -- I think you may have a
drinking problem."  She circled around between the stirrups.  "I'm going to
pull your cork -- can't have you all stretched out for later."  She spent a
couple of minutes at it, slowly pulling until the widest part of the butt
plug was spreading his anus and 'accidentally' losing her grip so it popped
back in.  Fernando babbled and grunted and groaned and made all kinds of
satisfying noises.  When she was done, she reached up and plucked his
shriveled penis from atop his scrotum.  "How unimpressive.  No wonder you
have to hide your inadequacies by beating on women!  I think my clit gets
longer than that!  Tsk tsk tsk...  Call me if you need anything -- but don't
be irritating about it or I'll stick the gag back in."  She walked out.

	Fernando was thoroughly miserable.  Obviously, they were going to
torture him for some time.  The woman had tried to drown him; he'd managed to
drink maybe half of the bottle of water.  That thing they'd stuck up his ass
had been unpleasant enough, but she seemed determined to rip his asshole open
with it.  And that awful gag that stuck something that looked like a cock in
his mouth...  He was still bound, stuck in one position, and sore all over --
more from stiffness than from his injuries.  The quality of the light said it
might be daytime -- but it might not, since he couldn't SEE a window
anywhere.  Centuries could have passed -- it certainly seemed that way!  What
was coming next?

	Marta took a run at Candace -- and failed.  "Where am I?"

	"It's best if you don't know -- but you're safe, Honey."

	"Where is Pietro?"

	"In the next room -- I'll send him in."

	"And Madeline?"

	"The same."

	"Where is my husband?"

	"If you don't know, nobody can make you tell," Candace told her.

	"Why does everyone wear masks?"

	"For the same reason, Honey.  If you can't identify us, you can't be
made to hurt us.  We're helping you -- why would you want to be put in a
position to hurt us?"

	"What are you going to do to Fernando?"

	"I don't know -- that's not my department.  I think in general we're
going to try to convince him that injuring you or Maddie or Pietro is bad for
his health.  Personally, I think you should leave him."

	"I cannot," Marta sighed.  "Marriage..."

	"... Leads to divorce -- at least that's the way it seems to happen
around here.  I know -- you're Catholic.  But it happens here, anyway.  Your
husband should go to jail for a long time for what he's done to you and
Maddie -- and that's just THIS time!  You think about that!"

	"Why did you come?"

	"I didn't.  I don't know the whole story, but commitments were made
for Maddie's safety.  I don't want to say by who or anything, but it
happened, and we followed through."

	"I see.  I just want to know who to thank."

	"You'll figure it out," Candace smiled and left the room to gather
Marta's children and send them in to her.

                       ----------------------------------

	Fred called at about eleven-thirty.  "I can't make it until three-
thirty or so," he told Toby, who was holding the throwaway phone.

	"That's fine," Toby told him.  "It might even be better."

	"Okay, cool.  I'll call when I'm ready.  Want the boys to bring me?"

	"No," Toby told him.  "We'll arrange a meet.  We're keeping the boys
out of this so you don't have any embarrassing explanations to make."

	"Cool."  Fred hung up.

	Toby called Louise.  "You're coming when?"

	"After my shift.  Three-thirty or so"

	"You can watch Fred then -- he's not starting on Mr. Reyes until
about then."

	"Good," Louise mused.  "You ARE taping this, right?"

	"Yeah."

	"This will be a loaded gun -- MUCH better than what we have!" Louise
preened.

	"I have to agree," Toby muttered.  "You know, with this, you have...
options..."

	"How so?" Louise asked.

	"I don't think Fred can afford to divorce you," Toby replied.  "This
goes way beyond him just having to admit that he's bisexual..."

	"Yeah, it does, doesn't it?  This puts me in the driver's seat, big
time!" Louise mused.

	"Yes, it does.  He's going to need to stay married so you can't
testify against him..."

	"I'll OWN his sorry ass!"

	"Yes, you will."

	"I wouldn't miss this for the world!" Louise chortled.  "Not in a
million years!  I'll have your mother drop me off so he doesn't see the car.
Don't let him start without me!"

	"No problem.  It's handled," Toby assured her.

                       ----------------------------------

	Bobby broke in on Toby and Hank during lunch.  "Anything happening?"

	Toby grimaced.  "Something's come up.  We've closed down the
clubhouse for a few days.  It sucks, but..."

	"Somebody tell?"

	"Well... it's a security issue."  Toby really wanted Bobby to get
over Trish, if possible.  It COULD be done off-site...  "Pop back in an hour
or so -- maybe we can do something."

	"Aren't we in enough shit?" Hank asked when Bobby had departed.

	"We need to either give him Trish or get her out of his system," Toby
replied.  "I think it's urgent."

	"Sooo..."

	"I dunno," Toby shrugged.  "Sonya?"

	Hank shrugged.  "Maybe.  Why don't we ask Damian to handle this?"

	"Good idea."

                       ----------------------------------

	"What with the Reyes thing, we're pretty jammed up," Toby explained
to Damian, "but Bobby has this hard on for Trish..."

	"Yeah."  Damian nodded.  "I think Rain Man is done with Trish,
though."

	"It could still lead to problems," Toby replied, "and besides, I
don't think Trish is all that hung up on Bobby."  Actually, he hadn't thought
about it that hard, he realized; a quick trip into Trish's head was warranted
here.  Still, Bobby needed to know that there was more than one pussy in the
world...

	Damian shrugged.  "I can take Bobby for a ride.  Sonya's a good
choice -- she's a hot little number.  We can have one of the other girls call
her and get her ready.  We'll be in and out of her place before Jiang Yi gets
home."

	"That sounds perfect," Toby enthused.  "Alyssa is crashed after last
night -- maybe Brenda..."

	"Or Trish," Damian replied, grinning.  "She's the one we're breaking
loose."

	"Yeah," Toby agreed -- but he wasn't altogether certain.

                       ----------------------------------

	"I'm over-committed," Toby told Hank after Damian left, "but I think
I should call Trish."

	"Why?"

	"You know how I sense things..."

	"Oh.  Yeah, okay."  Hank didn't believe in psychic powers -- and
hadn't really had the idea presented to him -- but he'd seen Toby work his
way through multiple feminine minefields.  "I'll cover."

                       ----------------------------------

	Even over the phone, Toby could sense that Trish was conflicted.
Seeing that, he took the tack, "I think he should have some experience --
then, if he's still hot for you and if you want him, it won't be like you
have to worry about some other chick reeling him in..."

	"Um, yeah, okay..."

	"Trish -- you don't really want him, do you?"

	"Jeez, I dunno.  When a guy gets that worked up about you, it's hard
to pass up, you know?  It's the best offer anybody has made me..."

	Toby bit his cheek.  "Hey, if you want..."  It was there; he could
sense it.  Trish didn't love Bobby -- but then Bobby probably didn't love
her, either.  But she was inclined to, if he returned the favor.

	"No, you're right," Trish replied.  "I'm doing other guys -- he
should do other girls.  If it's just because I took his cherry, he'll get
over it and neither of us has to get embarrassed."  It was a threatening
situation, but it was also better to know than to wonder...  "I'll call
Sonya.  What time?"

	"Probably no later than three," Toby told her.  "I'll bring her a
mask to wear, and come up first.  It would be easier on everybody if Bobby
was finished and gone before her mother gets home."

	"Okay, I got it.  I'll call."

	"Hit the showers as fast as you can," Toby told Bobby.  "We're
busting out of here just as early as we can -- and I'm on a schedule."

	"Hey, if it's..."  Bobby didn't want people pissed off.

	"It's all set already," Toby told him.  "Too late -- we're gonna run
with it.  See you as soon as Coach cuts you loose."

	Trish called back to confirm Sonya's readiness in a few minutes.  As
it turned out, things eased a bit; Martin, not wanting to damage anybody in
the heat, decided to let the boys go at two o'clock.  Toby breathed a sigh of
relief and got organized.

                       ----------------------------------

	Terence wasn't in any rush to hit the showers; he climbed up on the
bleachers and parked himself beside Bonita and Brenda.  During the day, he
and Brenda had related the gist of the hairy situation going down with the
Reyes -- but Bonita sensed that Terence was troubled by more than that.
"What is it, mi amor?"

	"Pa."  Terence sighed.  "The war between him and Mama is uglier by
the day.  They're roping him in on this thing to teach Old Man Reyes a lesson
-- and I've got a bad feeling about it.  Mama seemed to think it was a good
idea -- and that probably means Pa is fucked, some way.  But he bought in..."

	"Stay out of it," Bonita advised.  "Come to my house and I'll
introduce you to MY Papa..."

	Brenda rolled her eyes, grinning.  "That'll be a BIG help!"

	Terence smiled wanly.  "Yeah, mebbe."

	Clint came climbing up the bleachers, stopping tentatively a couple
of rows down.  "Hey."

	"Hey." Terence waved.  Brenda nodded.  Bonita smiled a welcome, so
Clint moved in closer.  "You look like you've got a lot of shit on your
mind," he said to Terence.

	"Yeah," Terence nodded.  "What do you know about this thing with Hank
and Maddie Reyes?"

	Clint blinked.  "Not shit."

	Terence gave him bits and pieces, ending with, "So they got Old Man
Reyes down at the clubhouse and they're gonna do SOMETHING with him and the
women are there healing.  And they called Pa in to help..."

	"Why?" Clint flicked a glance at Brenda.

	"She knows," Terence grunted.  "He's handy and he'll stick a dick in
the sumbitch -- that's why.  But Mama is gettin' something out of it and
that's probably bad."

	"What did you decide to do?" Clint asked.

	"Walk away," Terence sighed.  "I can't get into that shit."

	Clint nodded.  "That's the way to go.  Look, Man, they've got to hash
out this thing.  The best you can do is stay out of it and let it happen."
He clapped Terence on his shoulder pads.

	"Yeah, probably."

	"Let's go clean up and then take these hot babes here out to Wimpy's
for a burger or something."  He grinned at Brenda.

	Brenda turned to Bonita, "Hot babes?  Oh, God!  They're BLIND!"
Bonita giggled.  "Let's get what we can before their seeing-eye dogs show
up!"

	Both of the males laughed.  Clint hauled Terence to his feet.  "We'll
be back," he told the girls.  "Don't run off -- we don't want to have to feel
the whole bleachers looking for you!"

	As they ducked into the tunnel under the bleachers, Terence said,
"Man, I'm not wishing Brenda off on you..."

	"I know," Clint replied.  "We had our talk and you're not pushing YOU
on me, either.  That's cool, I think -- we can hang out and see how it goes.
Brenda doesn't seem to be the type to throw herself at a guy..."  He eyed
Terence sidelong.

	Terence chuckled.  "Like Bonita?  Fuck it -- it's workin'.  If she
didn't come out and say somethin', I'd have probably not noticed.  She's
cute, sweet-tempered, and a good fuck -- what else do I need?"

	"She's pretty fucking shameless about chasing your ass!"

	"You say that like it's a bad thing!" Terence grinned.  "If she wants
to tell me I'm her perfect man, hey..."

	Clint snorted.  They hit the locker room and started hauling off
their equipment.  Just about everyone was gone.  Terence glanced around and
said, "Toby says you told him about Nicky, but you never...  How come?"  He
leaned close.  "What is there about me?"

	"Uhh," Clint looked around.  "You ever seen the videos?"

	"Yeah."

	"Which do you like better, the little guys or the gym rats?"

	"Oh."

	"That a problem?"

	"No, it's cool."

	"What about you?" Clint asked.

	"Goes by the guy, I guess."  Terence glanced around again.  "Nicky...
It'd probably go one way, you know?  Not equal.  But it might happen, if he
hit me in the right mood."

	"That's fair, I guess." Clint allowed.

	"What about you?" Terence asked.  "Bunch of big guys on the team..."

	"Well, maybe -- but I'd never let on.  Too much chance of shit."

	Terence rumbled a chuckle.  "Caught a couple in the shower -- might
be on your list."

	"In the showers?" Clint glanced at the shower room.  "That's gutsy.
No shit?"

	"Yup.  They didn't see me."

	"Just talk?"

	"Nope.  Doin' it standing up."

	"Damn!"

	Both of them had hard-ons as they collected their towels and headed
for the showers.  Clint knotted his towel over his and held it there with his
hand; Terence, seeing the effect, duplicated it.  There was no one else in
the showers -- everyone else had made a dedicated effort to hit the street.
Hank was cleaning up -- but Hank knew...  Still, neither of them was quite
ready for anything too public.  They lathered up, both embarrassed about
their wood.  Finally, Clint said, "I give -- who?"

	"Vince and Eddie Ray."

	"No shit!"  Clint got harder, if that was possible.  Vince, in
particular...

	"Yeah.  I couldn't play -- that's pretty obvious..."

	"Yeah."  Vince and Eddie Ray would ruin Terence's whole day -- it
would be shades of 'Deliverance.'  "Yeah, you'd need the top end of that --
and it wouldn't happen with both of them there."

	"Wouldn't happen anyway," Terence grunted.

	"Oh, you never know -- some of the ones with the biggest mouths have
fantasies," Clint chuckled.  "Two of them together wouldn't fly -- they'd
have to carry the party line.  But one, alone..."  He mused a moment.  "Eddie
Ray, on a bet -- but it could just as easily be Vince."

	"You're smokin' dope!" Terence snorted.  "Besides, we'll never know."

	"Probably not," Clint agreed.  "Who was on top?"

	"Vince."

	"Figures."  Eddie Ray tended to defer to Vince in public -- and to no
one else.  "Look like they were having fun?"

	"Yeah," Terence muttered, soaping a leg.  "Both of 'em, actually."

	"Good to know, I guess."

	"Yeah."  Terence wondered exactly what they were going to do with the
hard-ons the conversation had generated.  He could always dip his in Nita --
she wouldn't complain, he figured -- but Clint probably wasn't ready to go
pushing the edge of the envelope with Brenda, was he?  That left another
answer -- the obvious one -- but they'd sort of made a date with the girls...

	Clint was having the same thoughts -- and was chagrined to realize
that he would probably end up jerking off.  It was highly probable that he
could start something with Terence, and more than reasonably probable that he
could do so with Brenda -- actually, given the fact that Terence could TELL
Brenda to fuck him, it was a sure thing!  The only thing stopping him was...
him.  Wasn't THAT dumb...  He stuck his head under the spray and tried to get
away from the whole thing, mentally.

	Ten minutes later, he and Terence were pretending to play Blind Man's
Bluff on the bleachers in front of two giggling girls.

                       ----------------------------------

	Meanwhile, Toby collected Bobby and stuck him in the back of the van,
then drove to the Ho's apartment.  Sonya answered the door at the first
knock.  "What do you want me to do?"

	"Whatever he asks.  Give him head, fuck him, whatever.," Toby
directed.  "Just try to retain your anonymity."

	"Why?" Sonya asked.  "There seems to be a reason..."

	"Trish giving off vibes?" Toby asked, smiling.

	"Well..." Sonya paused.  "She sounded odd."

	"Did she ask anything specific of you?"

	"No."

	"Bobby's kind of hung on her because she took his cherry.  He needs
some experience so he knows what he's getting into -- but I think Trish is
worried that she's kissing him goodbye," Toby related.

	"Oh."  That put Sonya in a difficult position.  "Again..."

	"Show him a good time," Toby told her, cutting her off.  "Do the best
you can.  Nobody is asking you to make a play for him, but give him something
to compare with his previous experiences -- something genuine.  Don't hold
back.  If you skew his expectations, it might screw them both up later.
Remember, if they get together, they'll be an interracial couple -- but
things won't go the usual direction, so it'll be hard on them.  I want him
SURE of what he's up to."  Toby reinforced this mentally; when he was done,
Sonya was very clear regarding her role.  They got her masked, and Toby
brought Bobby up.  "Okay, I have a couple of errands to run.  I figure you'll
be done in an hour or so -- call me if things go too long.  Bobby, she's here
for whatever you're looking for, within reason -- if she objects, call me and
I'll mediate.  You guys have a good time.  Bobby, you're not limited to one
load, either -- get it all out.  I don't know when things are going to be
okay again at the clubhouse, so get it while it's hot.  Any questions?"
There were none.  Toby hit the street --none too soon, as it turned out.

	There was a voicemail on the disposable phone.  "I'm ready," Fred's
voice rumbled.  Toby called him back, "Where are you?"

	"Rico's on Seventeenth," Fred told him.  Toby knew the bar -- they'd
tailed him there once.

	"Okay, you know the van.  Get in the back and I'll close it up after
you," Toby directed.

	"Okay."

	"I'll be there in ten minutes or so."

	Fred was in the parking lot and did as he'd been directed.  Toby
sealed up the back doors and headed for the clubhouse.  When they arrived at
the house, Toby left Fred in the van while he went inside.

	Louise was there in the living room, looking at Fernando on video.
"You got him?"

	"Yes."

	"Bring him in."

	"It might be a good idea if he had someone else down there," Toby
mused.  "Not you, obviously..."

	"I'll go," Candace said.  "Anybody got any suggestions as to what to
do to him?"

	"Put him in the pillory, bent over," Louise suggested.  "I'd like to
see Fred like that..."

	"Let's concentrate on this guy," Toby admonished.  "If you want to
daydream and it helps your imagination..."

	Louise gave him the eye.  "Who died and made YOU boss?"  Toby just
looked at her -- or appeared to, anyway.  "Never mind," she muttered after a
moment.  "Maybe we can hang something off his balls..."

	"I was thinking that he might get stupid and bite," Toby mused.
"Someone threatening to slice it off..."

	"I can do THAT!" Candace grinned.

	"Are you okay with Fred?" Toby asked.

	"As long as he behaves himself," Candace agreed.

	Lon walked in.  "Where are we?"

	"Just getting ready to turn Fred loose on him," Toby replied.  "Your
mama is going to be there too, but it might be nice to have some extra
manpower, just in case..."

	"I'm in."  Lon dropped himself onto the couch.

	"I'm surprised Hank isn't here," Toby muttered.

	"In my room with Maddie, sucking face," Lon replied.  "I'm thinking
Maddie shouldn't see this -- but he might want to.  SALLY!"

	"Master?"  Sally stuck her head out of the guest room.

	"Ask Maddie to keep an eye on her mom and brother for a while and
tell Hank he should come in here."

	"Yes, Master."

	"And shut the door -- things might get loud and we're watching in
here!"

	"Yes, Master!"

	"Did you get another one of those voice thingies?" Candace asked.

	"I did," Hank replied, entering the room.  "It's downstairs.  What's
up?"

	"We're gonna have Fred Carter poke Old Man Reyes with his dick," Lon
told him.

	"Oh.  Cool."  Hank settled on the other side of the couch.

	"I'll open the van and send Fred down to you," Toby told Candace.
"Get him in a mask and a voice box and go for it."

	"Okay.  Let's go."  Candace pulled HER mask -- which had been around
her neck -- into place and headed for the inside stair.  Toby headed out.

	Toby got in the van and used the intercom.  "I'm gonna pop the doors.
There's a woman downstairs.  She'll give you a mask to wear and a device that
will disguise your voice.  She'll also help you with Old Man Reyes.  Put him
in the pillory and do him up."

	"A woman?" Fred grunted.

	"Yeah.  If you don't want her to watch, fine -- but I figured he
might be less likely to bite if she's holding a knife to his balls..." Toby
explained.

	"Yeah.  Okay."  Fred got used to the idea quickly, rationalizing that
this would be rape and torture to her, not gay sex per se.  "Let's do it."
Toby popped the locks and he was on his way, not looking back as he descended
the stair.

	The chick at the bottom was wearing a mask and a strap around her
waist with a box on it -- and nothing else.  Fred took her in, visibly.
"Sheeit!"

	"What's that supposed to mean?"

	"Hey, sorry -- wasn't expecting you to be nekkid.  You're, uh, pretty
hot."

	"Oh.  Okay.  It's a disguise," Candace related.  "Have you looked at
my face yet?"

	"Yeah?  Well, no..."

	"Same with him.  You should get naked, too.  All he's gonna see is
your dick."

	"I like it!"  Fred started shucking out of his things.  When he was
finished, Candace put a mask on him and rigged up the voice distorter.  "Try
it."

	"You are fucked," Fred intoned.  The utterance boomed out, distorted.

	Candace reached out and turned down the volume.  "Too loud.  Let's
go."

	Fernando heard people talking behind the curtain, but couldn't make
anything out until "You are fucked!" boomed out.  It didn't exactly inspire
confidence.  Then the woman who'd basically poured water all over him came
through the curtains, followed by a big, muscular black man!  Both of them
were stark naked, and the black man was probably half-hard...  "I... I...
I..." Fernando babbled -- even he didn't know what he was trying to say...

	"Well, lookie here!  What do I call you?" the black man rumbled, his
voice distorted by the box at his hip.

	Fernando opened his mouth, but "Pussy Boy is the official term," the
woman interjected, her voice distorter faithfully replicating her amusement,
if not her pitch.

	"Sounds about right," the man chuckled.

	Fernando wanted to pee again -- bad -- from fear!  "I -- I have to go
to the bathroom."

	"Hmph."  Both of them stood there, looking at him, obviously
independently analyzing the situation.  "He can walk.  Unwinch him -- I'll
get the feet," Fred grunted.  Candace let him drive; she unhooked the
overhead cable while Fred undid the restraints holding Fernando's feet in the
stirrups.  Fred waved her back and grabbed Fernando's feet, spinning him
sideways on his ass so that he was able to step down.  "Stand up.  Fuck with
me and you'll wish you was dead!"

	Fernando tried to stand -- and his legs wouldn't hold him.  He went
to his knees, and -- since his wrists were still bound to the bar -- flat on
his face.  Fred chuckled.  "Ouch!  That's gotta hurt!"  He came around and
took an end of the bar.  "Get up," he directed, tugging Fernando more or less
vertical.

	Fernando managed, but he was disoriented; he'd hit his forehead on
the floor.  Fortunately for him, the angle was wrong to re-injure his nose...

	"He hasn't seen anything but this room and the bathroom," Candace
advised.

	"Nothin' in between?"

	"No."  Candace located and brandished the bag used to cover
Fernando's head.

	"Okay," Fred took it and put it over Fernando's head.  Fernando did
little more than pant; he was in a lot of pain and could barely stand from
being in one position for most of a day.  Fred led him by one end of the
spreader bar.  "Turn sideways, Pussy Boy, or you'll never clear the curtain."

	By the time they'd made it down the hallway to the bath, Fernando was
at least capable of walking.  He had no illusions about getting free, under
the circumstances.  Fred belied him up to a urinal.  "You're at a urinal,
Pussy Boy," he grunted, "Piss!  Or do you sit down to pee?"  While Fernando
worked at letting go of his bladder, Fred asked, "Is he gonna have to crap?"

	"After four enemas?" Candace chuckled.

	"Guess not, then.  Good.  I hate a mess."  He asked Fernando, "I
suppose you want one of us to shake the dew off?"

	"Uhh..."

	"How's this?" Fred swatted Fernando's cock with two fingers.

	"Ow!"

	"Quit complainin'."  Fred did it twice more; Fernando's cock shrank
visibly.  "More than three times and I'd be playin' with it," Fred rumbled.
"Let's go."

	Upon their return -- another blind shuffle -- Fred removed the bag.
Fernando was relieved -- until he saw the device in front of him!  It was
heavy, and wooden, and it had holes...  Fernando had taken it in,
peripherally, while lying on the exam table, but it was at the edge of his
vision at best.  Now he got a good, long look as the black man made
adjustments to it.  "Okay, Pussy Boy, waddle over here -- time to go to
work."

	Fernando recoiled -- he wanted no part of this! -- but Candace put a
hand in the small of his back and shoved him forward, "Move!"

	Fred used the spreader bar to bend Fernando over the main bar of the
pillory, checked it, and let him up to make further adjustments.  "P--
please..." Fernando whined.

	"I'm hurryin', I'm hurryin'," Fred grunted, deliberately
misunderstanding him.

	"N--no..."

	"Make up your fucking mind..."

	Fernando made to back away; Fred stepped up and kneed him in the
groin.  Fernando wailed and doubled over.  "That's more like it," Fred
approved.  Fernando didn't remember having the restraints removed or being
fitted into the wooden holes of the pillory -- all he remembered was the red
haze of pain in his balls from the black man's knee!  When awareness of the
world resumed, his neck and wrists were locked between the heavy wooden beams
of the pillory.

                       ----------------------------------