Flowers in a Dumpster (7 page)

“I’d love to, but I really have to close up the bar. I’m the only one working tonight.”

“I can wait. Really, I don’t mind.”

“Why wait?” the bartender said and came out from behind the bar. He passed Jason and went to the door, turning the lock and flipping a switch which Jason assumed turned off the neon-sign outside. He returned to Jason and kissed him roughly, practically raping Jason’s mouth with his insistent tongue.

“Wouldn’t you be more comfortable if we went to my place?” Jason asked weakly, even as the bartender undid his pants.

The bartender put a finger to Jason’s lips. “Shhh, don’t say another word.”

And Jason didn’t. Not even when the bartender bent him over one of the pool tables.

***

Jason got no sleep that night. He sat up in the bed remembering what he’d allowed to be done to him at the club earlier, tears streaking his cheeks. The acts that had been perpetrated on his body had been vile, disgusting, sinful . . . and he’d
liked
it. All those nasty things the bartender had done to him, they’d felt so good. Jason had ended up urging his violator on: faster, harder, deeper, rougher. By the time the bartender was done with him, Jason had been sore all over, but the aches were pleasurable in a way he was certain was damning.

He now knew this sickness went deeper than he had dreamed, had sunk roots into his very soul. It was more imperative than ever that he rid himself of this affliction. He had to get twelve more men for Andros. Then the demon would grant Jason’s wish.

Twelve more men. No matter what.

***

Since he figured that Liaisons would be as deserted on a Monday night as it had been on Sunday, Jason decided to change his tactics. It was for the best, he figured. It’s probably not a good idea to collect all twelve men from the same place. But that left the question, where to go? There were no other gay clubs in town and he doubted that if he went to another city he could convince anyone to come all the way back to his place. So what options did that leave?

Barnes & Noble.

Jason had never been much of a reader, but he had heard rumors that the B&N was quite a pick up joint for the gay crowd. Apparently there had even been a glory hole in between the two men’s room stalls before they had replaced the plaster wall with a metal one.

He went that night around nine, an hour before closing, figuring anyone left would be getting desperate and he wouldn’t have to work as hard. Even at that hour, the place was full of people sipping flavored coffees in the café, lounging in the deep chairs, and flipping through newspapers they had no intention of buying.

There were several single men about, but Jason found himself at a loss. At the bar, at least he knew most everyone there was gay and looking for the same thing. Here, how was he to differentiate between gay men on the prowl and straight men looking for caffeine and reading material? It wasn’t like anyone here wore a T-shirt with the logo LOOKING 4 COCK!

Jason perused the magazine rack until he found a stash of gay publications.
Advocate
,
Out
,
XY
. He picked up an
Advocate
and flipped through it without really paying any attention to the articles. He positioned his body so that the cover was facing out toward the store, hoping it would act as a beacon to draw someone in.

After only a few minutes, his approach seemed to have done its job. Jason became aware of a middle-aged man watching him at the other end of the magazine rack, short and stocky with a mischievous glint in his eye. Jason couldn’t be certain the man was gay, but the way he stared so intently at Jason without looking away certainly seemed telling. Deciding to take a risk, Jason reached down and squeezed his package, making it seem like he was scratching his balls. That was all it took. The stocky man abandoned whatever magazine he’d been reading and headed Jason’s way.

“Hey there,” the man said, his eyes not on Jason’s face but below the belt.

“Hey yourself.”

“Good magazine?”

“Not bad.”

The man nodded, glanced briefly at Jason’s eyes, let his own wander downward again. “Boring night, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m just looking for something fun to do.”

“I hear that. I’m Eric, by the way.”

“Ja . . . mie.” He wasn’t sure why he didn’t give his real name since the guy wouldn’t have the chance to share it with anyone. He just didn’t want this man knowing.

“Nice to meet you, Jamie. So what are a couple of fellas like us to do for fun on a boring night like this?”

Jason reached down and cupped his balls again. “I’ve got a few ideas.”

“You do, do you? I’m all ears.”

***

They were lying on the bed, making out and rubbing one another through their clothes, while Jason tried to figure out how to get Eric into the closet. Although Eric was shorter than Jason, he had a good hundred pounds on him, mostly muscle. It didn’t seem likely Jason would be able to physically overpower and force him into the closet. He could always try the ploy that had worked last time, saying there were sex toys in the closet, but so far he’d been gagged by Eric’s tongue the entire time and had been unable to speak.

Luck being with Jason tonight, Eric suddenly pulled back—Jason denying the disappointment he felt when the man’s tongue was removed from his mouth—and said, “Sorry, think I had too much coffee back at the bookstore. Can I use your bathroom before we go any further?”

Jason raised his hand to point toward the closed bathroom door but hesitated, instead moving his finger until it pointed directly at the closed closet door. The two doors were nearly indistinguishable, no reason Eric should suspect Jason was lying to him.

Jason propped himself up on his elbows and watched the man cross the room. He found he was still hard, as if the anticipation of what was to come was a major turn on. As Eric approached the door, Jason got to his feet and followed quietly.

Eric opened the door and stood there at the threshold for a moment, frowning into the dark closet. He started to turn, saying, “This isn’t the bath—”, then Jason shoved him roughly from behind, sending the man tripping into the closet. Without a pause, Jason slammed the door shut, backing away as if fearing it would explode back open.

It didn’t. It remained closed, and there was only silence from inside. After a few moments had passed, Jason opened the door and found the closet empty, like last time. He remained there, staring in at the nothing there was to see and a smile slowly spread across his face.

He started to believe that he could really do this, deliver all thirteen men to Andros.

After all, it was easy.

***

Having built a certain momentum, Jason delivered the next four men all within a week. Numbers three and four—that’s how Jason had come to think of them, as mere numbers—came from Liaisons, one in his fifties, the other barely in his twenties. They’d come back to his apartment willingly enough and had disappeared into his closet, almost as if they had ceased to exist altogether. Number five was another pick-up from the Barnes & Noble, a nervous married man who kept fiddling with his wedding band as if it were some magical talisman. Number six was actually the bartender from Liaisons that Jason had fucked after closing one night. During one of Jason’s fishing trips to the club, they’d arranged a date. Instead of cooking the bartender dinner, though, Jason had shoved him into the closet, but only after repaying the earlier favor and drilling the bartender’s ass for almost an hour.

Almost halfway to his goal, Jason discovered the Man Web, a gay exclusive website for personal ads. Answering an ad from a couple who were looking for a threesome, Jason was ecstatic to get numbers seven and eight in one go. He didn’t get them in the closet right away, first he got on all fours and let one pound him from behind while the other filled his mouth. Number nine also came from the Man Web, an older man with far too much hair on his back. He had introduced Jason to the joys of being rimmed before Jason introduced him to the inside of his closet.

He’d gone back to Liaisons for number ten, a twenty-something so drunk he’d passed out seconds after getting to Jason’s apartment. Jason actually fucked the man while he was unconscious before dragging him into the closet and closing him inside.

Number eleven was from the Man Web, a self-proclaimed virgin who looked no older than seventeen, eager for his first sexual experience. Jason, who was not without heart, fulfilled all the boy’s fantasies before knocking him upside the head and tossing him into the closet.

Number twelve was a man named Robbie, who Jason knew from work, a flamboyant man who’d always made Jason uncomfortable with his openness. He invited Robbie over on the pretense of needing help moving an armoire and gave Robbie a thrill by letting him suck on Jason’s cock for a while before pushing him into the closet.

Afterward, Jason reclined on his bed, smiling up at the ceiling. Only one more to deliver and he still had three days before the next full moon. He should be able to get that last one with no trouble then he’d have what he wanted. Heterosexuality. A normal life. No more giving in to these wicked urges that caused him to partake in the vile, nasty, decadent acts he'd indulged in since he’d first met Andros. He tried not to think of those things right now, as it was getting him hard again.

Hell, if he was about to get the cure, Jason figured he might as well enjoy the sickness while it lasted. He had just slipped his hand into his underwear when the closet door creaked open and Andros stepped out, a playful smile curling his lips.

“What?” Jason exclaimed, jumping up from the bed and pulling his hand back out of his underwear.

“Not happy to see me, mortal?”

“What are you doing here? I haven’t delivered all thirteen souls to you yet.”

“Ah, but you have.” Andros paused, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, a soft moan issuing from deep in his throat. “I can just smell the sex in this room. All that man sweat, testosterone, drying semen. Why would anyone want to give this up?”

“What do you mean? I
have
delivered all thirteen souls? I know how to count and I’ve only delivered twelve men to you.”

“Yes, twelve . . . plus you.”

Jason felt his skin go cold and his erection deflated like a punctured balloon. “What are you talking about?”

Andros stepped close to him, reaching out and running his fingers down his cheek. “You were always to be the thirteenth soul.”

Jason batted the demon’s hand away and sidestepped him, inching his way to the door. “I’m not part of the bargain. The deal was that I provide you with the souls of thirteen homosexual men and you grant me my wish to be straight. That’s the deal, we shook on it.”

“Silly mortal,” Andros said with a laugh. “You think demons know anything of honor or fairness? You think that handshake sealed a promise of some kind? You should know better than to take a demon at his word. We are liars by our very nature.”

Jason had almost reached the door when Andros made his move. The demon was so fast that he registered only as a blur. Andros was there by Jason’s side, seizing his arm in a vise-like grip and jerking him toward the closet.

“This can’t be,” Jason whined, trying to resist but being dragged along nonetheless. “What about the reformed lesbian that sold me the copy of
Transformations
? You healed her.”

“She isn’t reformed; she’s still a pussy-licker extraordinaire. No, she’s merely one of my faithful servants, offering her services to help me perform my sacred duty.”

“What duty?”

Andros grabbed Jason roughly by the hair and brought his face close. Jason could smell sulfur on the demon’s breath. “To punish pansy-ass homosexuals like yourself who don’t have the balls to accept who they are.”

“Where are you taking me?” Jason said, renewing his efforts to pull loose of Andros’s grasp, all to no avail.

“I’m taking you to hell, of course. But don’t worry, there’s no fire, no brimstone, no souls crying out in agony. Hell is a more
personal
affair.”

Jason screamed then, hoping one of his neighbors would hear and come to his rescue. But Andros yanked him into the closet and the door swung shut behind them.

Only they weren’t in the closet. Gone were the clothes, the hangers, the rod, even the walls. Instead there was only a black void that seemed both limitless and claustrophobic at the same time. As Jason’s eyes began to adjust to the gloom he made out a writhing mass in the distance. The sounds came next—moans and grunts and squeals and gasps. The scene came into sharper focus, as if without moving Jason had somehow gotten closer. It was the twelve men Jason had delivered to Andros, all of them naked and covered in sheens of sweat, seeming to be joined into one being as their flesh melded in a raw, animalistic orgy. Hard cocks plunged into tight asses, rigid members suckled by hot, hungry mouths, juice spurting into every available orifice, faces bathed in the transcendent light of orgasm. Jason was so hard it was almost painful, his erection straining to join the festivities. He tried to step forward but found himself bound in place by heavy, rusty chains.

“Quite a sight, isn’t it?” Andros said, stepping up next to the immobilized Jason. The demon was completely naked, his chest sprinkled with a fine dusting of dark hairs. A ten inch cock with large mushroom head pointed straight up from a tight nest of pubic hair, balls slicked with sweat hanging low like ripe fruit. “They certainly are having fun, aren’t they? And they never tire. They never go soft.”