. 1

Hospitals are supposed to be fuckin’ boring, but not the one I went to! I got stuff-all rest when I was there, not that I mind. I hate being stuck in a bed and being helped to the fuckin’ toilet every time I want to take a slash.

When the ambulance first took me there it was like a fuckin’ circus, only no one was clowning around. The cops were crawling all over me and asking me all sorts of fuckin’ questions. I told them that I knew nothing and had no fuckin’ idea who the hell kidnapped me. The blindfold was in one of their evidence bags to prove my story.

The dweeb Scott came through too, not that he dared go against what I told him. When the cops questioned him, he made up some bullshit about going to the house ‘cause it was deserted and supposed to be haunted and he wanted to see if he could meet the ghost, and that’s how he found me.

Scott came to visit me every day too. I couldn’t get rid of the fucker. He brought be fuckin’ flowers – typical pansy – and car & skate mags to read...but more importantly, he kept me up to date on what was happening too. It’s almost a pity that he’s such a dweeby little faggot. He’s helped me out a couple of times now so I reckon he’d make an okay mate if he was more of a real man.

Anyway, he told me stuff like all six of those fuckers who put me in hospital were running scared, making sure they were never alone and all that shit.

The faggot who was really gonna be dead meat – the one who broke my left arm and my ribs – was really freaking. I found out the cunt’s name was Colin and filed it away in my memory, so I knew it when I struck back. Scott told me Colin was turning totally insane with paranoia - freaking out at every noise, bursting into tears all the time, not showing up for school. I couldn’t help but smile at that ‘cause the little shit knew I was coming after him the hardest.

The first few days in hospital, I couldn’t even get out of bed. The quacks said I had some internal bleeding and stuff, but they fixed it all up and told me that I had to stay in the hospital for at least a week for observation. I had a private room ‘cause my dad’s got the proper health cover and stuff, and I thought I was gonna be bored shitless even though I was gonna use that time in hospital to plan exactly how to fix the cunts the put me there.. But between the fuckin’ pigs and Scott and doctors and friends, I was starting to wish that I was fuckin’ bored.

And then there was Nurse Nancy.

Fuckin’ Nurse Nancy, man! Not his real name, just what I called him behind his back. He was a huge mother-fucker! Talk about the Incredible Hulk! Arms like fuckin’ logs, pecs so huge they looked like mountains, and legs as thick as fuckin condos. He was all muscle, with veins sticking out everywhere. A total steroid junkie.

The first time he walked in, I swear I could feel the floor fuckin’ shaking underneath him. He came up to me and asked if I needed anything, and man, did I nearly wet myself laughing! He had this squeaky fuckin’ voice like his balls had been cut off before puberty and he was as camp as a row of fuckin’ tents! I thought someone looking that tough had to be straight, man, but no bull – he was 100% faggot through and through!

I could tell he liked me right away ‘cause he kept looking up and down over my body when he was talking to me. With my ribs broken, I wasn’t wearing a shirt, see? And the bandages were only covering my stomach, so he could check out my pecs and see the definition in my arms too. He’d fuckin’ lick his lips when he looked at me and try to be all professional and stuff, but it was so fuckin’ obvious what he was thinking.

It was his job to take me to the crapper and help me out when I needed a shower and stuff and I knew he was hanging to do it, waiting for me to flop my cock out in front of him, or to kneel down and peel off my pants so he could sniff my arse. Fags are always sick like that, wanting a piece of me whenever they can.

So the first time he helped me to the toilet, I pretended like I couldn’t get my cock out with just one hand. It was really obvious, but I wanted him to know that I was lying to see what he’d do. Sure enough, he reached in and grabbed in, pulling it out for me. It was growing hard and started to jump up and down already, so I told him that suddenly I didn’t need to use the loo any more.

The fag looked at me and smiled and said, “Do you want me to help you get rid of the blockage?” and he started stroking me with two fingers before I could answer. I smiled back at him and turned around to face him, so he wrapped his massive fuckin’ palm around it and started stroking me full-on.

I remember throwing my head back and groaning a bit, though it was really to stop the cunt from trying to kiss me. There was no way I was gonna let a faggot stick his tongue down my throat! All of a sudden though, I felt his lips wrapping around my dick, and I looked down to see him kneeling there, sucking me off and looking up at me for my reaction.

“Yeah,” I said to him, grabbing his hair and holding him down there. He sucked harder, swallowing the whole length of my shaft and poking at it with his tongue.

“Harder,” I said, and squeezed tighter on his hair, pushing his head back and forth, faster and faster til I blew my load in his mouth. I felt my knees buckling as I came and he grabbed me around the waist to stop me from falling, then got up and spat the cum into the toilet boil. After rinsing his mouth out at the tap, he turned around to look at me.

“Like that?” he asked me.

“It was okay,” I shrugged, playing it cool. “Next time though, I’ll tell you how to do it better.”

The next time happened the next day, then nearly every day after that. Each time, he took me into the bathroom and I made him strip off first and wank himself off in front of me. He thought it was ‘cause it made me get horny, but I just wanted to make sure he didn’t try sticking in filthy prick into my mouth. He tried kissing me a few times too, but I told him I didn’t do that shit, so he ran his mouth all over my neck and chest instead, licking and sucking where I told him to like a fuckin’ slave boy - another one of my pussy little faggot pets. Once he even let me fuck him up the arse and I rammed him so hard that he made me stop. Normally I would have whacked the cunt for pulling away, but shoving my dick into him like that hurt my fuckin’ broken ribs anyway, so I let him get away with it and made him suck me off again instead.

I was getting stronger every day and near the end of the first week, the quacks said I could go home in a few days. But the day before I was gonna leave the hospital, the shit hit the fan again.

I was lying in bed, dozing this night. It was maybe 11 pm or something like that, when I woke up from the light coming in as the door opened. I couldn’t see who it was in the dark, but suddenly the guy was beside my bed and shoving a pillow over my face.

“I won’t let you kill me!” the fucker said and I knew it was Colin. I couldn’t breathe with the pillow pressed into my face and with one hand in a cast and my ribs killing me, I couldn’t pull it off. I started kicking out, my face going all red from lack of oxygen, but the cunt kept the pillow there, pushing down with his body weight.

I lashed out with my good arm and managed to hit the fucker on the shoulder. It wasn’t that hard a hit, but he was a real pussy and it was enough to make him let go with that hand. I grabbed the pillow and yanked it out of his other hand, throwing on the floor. My ribs were on fire now from all the struggling, but as I reached up to grab the cunts face, he brought his fist down in my side, hitting my broken ribs. I screamed in pain, the whole world turning fuckin’ white from it.

The cunt jumped up onto the bed and pinned my arms under his knees, grabbing me around the throat with both hands. I gagged, my feet kicking out, my whole body throbbing so badly I couldn’t think straight.

I could see his face above mine and he was like a wild animal, totally out of his mind and scared shitless, but he was getting more and more blurry and my lungs felt like they were gonna burst.

“I won’t let you do it. I won’t let you kill me,” he kept saying over and over again like a nutter. And then suddenly he was off me and there were people all around. I could hear voices far away but somewhere near the bed, and I was gasping for air and rolling over on my side holding my ribs. When I yelled out before, someone must have come in to check on me, and now they were putting an oxygen mask on my face to help me breathe and trying to unbandage me to check my ribs.

I found out later that Colin really had gone mad. He’d been so fuckin’ scared of me because of what he did, that his pussy little brain had snapped. The cops told me later that he was put in a mental home or something ‘cause after they took him away he just went really quiet and kept saying “I’m gonna die” over and over and not talking to anyone but himself. Scott said that when he visited Colin in the loony bin, he was in a padded cell, just sitting there and rocking back and forth like he was autistic. Serves the fucker right. If I ever get my hands on him, his new fuckin’ home would be a coffin now.

My ribs were broken again in different places because of where the cunt had punched me, so I had to stay in hospital another couple of weeks. The cops hung around heaps, inside and outside my room for the first week just in case anyone else tried to kill me. The hospital also gave me a buzzer alarm that I could press for any emergency. But nothing else happened like I knew it wouldn’t.

Nurse Nancy fuckin’ freaked when he came in the next day and found out what had happened. He offered to go over to Colin’s house and bash in the heads of the whole family but I told him that the only head bashing I wanted was when my cock bashed the back of his throat.

When I finally got out of hospital, I still had to take it easy ‘cause it hurt so fuckin’ much to move around. And with one arm in a fuckin’ cast and sling, there wasn’t a whole lot I could do anyway.

But once I got back to school, the hunt was on. I made sure each of the five other faggots noticed me watching them constantly. I psyched out the little shits as much as I could. No-one dared say anything to me about being hurt and all, ‘cause by then the fuckin’ rumour mill told them all they wanted to know anyway, but I could see all the other kids watching me carefully, knowing that heads were gonna roll real soon.

Shawn, from the swim centre was first on my list and I finally pinned him down alone in the street one night. I heard he was going to a movie and I waited for him after it finished, hoping he’d walk home alone. The prick was with a group of people though, and just when I was about to give up, they left him and he was all alone.

I stopped him as he walked past the alley I was hiding in. He turned to run, but I called out after him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you. You’ll only make it worse for yourself.”

He stopped dead, standing a few metres away from me and I could see him looking around for someone else to come by.

“Justin...” he started saying, but I cut him off.

“I don’t want any of your fuckin’ excuses. You’re the lucky one, so get back over here and stop being such a pussy.”

“Wh-What do you mean?” he asked, taking one step towards me.

“I mean you joined in that fucked-up little kidnapping for a reason. Wrong decision, but I liked your motive. You were looking out for your kid brother, trying to get even for when the little shit hurt himself at the swim centre, weren’t you?”

“He...didn’t hurt himself,” Shawn said, trying to be brave, but his voice was all shaky. “You cracked his skull on the side of the pool.”

“The cunt deserved it,” I said, “But it was an accident, anyway. Still, it’s good that you stick up for your bro. I like that. You’ve impressed me, and that ain’t easy to do. Mates and family ought to stick up for each other, so I’m gonna let you off light.”

He smiled and I could see the relief spreading all over his face. He came a bit closer.

“Really?” he asked, almost laughing. “Really? That’s great...I mean...anything. Anything you want. I’ll make it up to you, Justin, I promise.”

“Good,” I said, “’cause I want you to help me with my maths.”

“Maths?” Now he was laughing. Closer again. He was only a few feet away from me now. “Sure! I can help you with your maths. I can come over to your place and go over your homework – be like a private tutor or something! That’s great!”

“No, no, no,” I said, stepping towards him and filling the gap. “What I want, is for you to help me to count.”

“Count?” he said, and I tried not to grin as I saw the smile disappear from his face.

“That’s right. You see, I don’t ever want to see your fuckin’ face again. So I’m gonna count each time I see you. And for each time I see you, I’m gonna bash you in the head. Like now.”

I swung my fist, slamming it into the side of his head and knocking the cunt to the ground.

“That’s ‘one’,” I said. “See how it works? Next time will be two. Then three, then four and so on. I get to practice counting. And if I don’t get to bash you when I see you, then I’ll save it up till I do see you and give you however many counts there are right over your fuckin’ head in one go. One count. One punch.”

And with that, I stepped over the prick and walked away. I never saw the cunt again. He changed schools the next fuckin’ week.

Two down, four to go.

When the cast came off my arm a few weeks later, I started working out as much as I could, building back my strength for my showdown with Fab. He was a tough faggot, so I was leaving him til last to make sure I was in good shape again. My ribs were healing faster and faster, though they gave me trouble for fuckin’ ages. But while I waited for them to heal, I kept on psyching the others out and waiting for a chance to catch them alone. I was real good at playing the waiting game. Patience is one of my strong points, so I wasn’t in any hurry to punish any of the fuckers. Besides, watching them squirm like that was worth the wait, and dragging it out was fuckin’ beautiful!

With Shawn out of the way, they all got extra careful and it didn’t take much to make them freak. Fab tried talking to me a few times, telling me that I should let them alone, let the past be the past and all that other crap, but I told him he was a fuckin’ pussy and how much I couldn’t wait til his turn came around.

It wasn’t long after my cast came off that my next chance arrived. I caught two of the cunts – George and Alan – walking through the park one weekend. They were two of Scott’s pals; two of the pricks who I met in the mall with him that day I bashed Colin.

I nabbed them both, grabbing them around the back of their necks and slamming their heads together, then dragged them into the bushes by their hair. I told them we were gonna play a game called “Bash or Dare” and they chose ‘dare’ just like I knew they would.

Now they’d picked the dare, I told them that they if they didn’t do it, I’d break every fuckin’ bone in their bodies and keep on doing it every time they got out of hospital. They were crying like fuckin’ babies, huddling together against a tree, too scared to move.

I made them both strip off and fuck each other up the arse, then I set their clothes on fire so they were stuck in the park naked. Next, I exaggerated a little and told the cunts that I had twelve bones broken so for the next twelve days they had to meet me in the same place and do the same thing every day. And on the last day, after they’d screwed each other again, I made them punch each other out – one punch each, in turns, till one of them was knocked out.

It was fuckin’ magic seeing them suffer all those days and being stuck without clothes to get home each day. And then to see the pussies beating each other to a pulp, it just rounded off the payback beautifully. By the time George was out cold, neither of them could see ‘cause their eyes and faces were all swollen and bruised.

Four down, two to go.

Last on the list was Scott’s other friend, Glenn and then finally Fab. Glenn was a pissant little faggot who I didn’t give a shit about. I knew once I cornered him, he would be easy enough to deal with. It was Fab that I was excited about though. Our first two confrontations were cool, tough challenges but I’d won both rounds. But it was gonna take a while for my left arm build back its strength and I knew that Fab wouldn’t take it like the others. He’d fight back, ‘cause he was a man like that, even if he was a faggot. And I was looking forward to making him squirm despite his advantage.

Two more to go. And what fun it was gonna be!

To be continued...