Under the Flag

Tammy wasn't the only member of her family that happened to be summoned to downtown Montgomary that fateful afternoon. She knew her husband Carl had run up a few gambling debts from his Sunday afternoon football failures, but he had told Tammy that the total was only around $400.

In reality, the closer sum of Carl Scroggins's ignorance was approaching $4,000 and now his understanding and friendly bookie of the last four years was suddenly becoming a little more terse.

At approximatly the same time his wife of 17 years was helplessly rocking on her knees servicing a couple of black teenagers orally in an adult bookstore glory hole room, Carl Scroggins was about 4 blocks away at Shakey's bar and grill, on his knees in a way as well.

"I swear....I will get you guys your money...I'll do anything...anything...you know I'm good for it," Carl begged. "Its just that I'm in a bad rut right now."

"Rut, Scroggins..Hell..your in a Goddamn sinkhole, " Gage Giavoni, Carl's bookie, laughed. " I need at least half of it before the end of the week!"

Carl knew Giavoni's mandate was completly fair and Carl also inherantly understood that he did have a problem. That was just the way the game was played, but Carl also knew this cold hard fact, he only had about $500 in liquod cash at the moment to pay and that wasn't even close to what he needed.

"I can get you 500 by Friday Gabe..if you can wait a month or so..I can cash in a few CD's at the bank and have it all...come on," Carl groveled, "I get paid in 10 days too...I can come up with it."

"Five hundred..that's bullshit Scroggins.... Yeah..I'll take that but you'll need to come up with some collataral to make sure the rest is guaranteed," Gabe replied harshly.

A million bad thoughts darted through Carl's head as Giavoni's dark eyes glarred madly at him. "Whatever you do Gabe..just don't let my family find out," Carl pleaded.

"You're not gonna break my kneecaps are ya..huh," Carl tried to say with a touch of levity to lighten the mood in the room as he reached in his pocket for the $500 her had brought with him.

Giavoni simply looked back at Carl without verbally answering the implication of Carl's stab at humor, giving Carl a definate feeling of discomfort.

"Just give me the money you got on ya today and then follow me back to my office ...we got a little talkin' in private to do,"Giavoni said ominously as he took Carl's cash.

That declaration didn't sit well with Carl. They had just been sitting there in the bar talking for the past 30 minutes and now Gabe wanted Carl to follow him and his huge black bodyguard named Crash to the small office in the back of the establishment. Carl really didn't have the option of saying "no" however, so when Gabe and his 6 foot 6 inch and 300 pound bodyguard took off down the hall, all Carl could do was fall in line like a shy and timid lamb.

Carl followed the two men to the back where Gabe kept the modified cubicle that served as his on premises office. Feeling his knees shaking underneath his trousers, Crash cringed as Crash walked off to the side and waited for him to enter. As soon as Carl disappeared inside the room, Crash firmly closed the door, locking the three men inside.

Praying internally for his own safety, Carl watched as Gabe settled into his swiveling office chair and Crash take his customary postition behind Gabe's right shoulder.

Carl did feel a slight glimmer of optimism seeing that no guns, knives or impliments of torture were visible, but when Gabe started talking in a low hushed tone, every bit of postitive hope Carl had started to feel disappeared abruptly.

"Scroggins..I'm gonna be straight with you..Your pathetic ass is lucky I don't hurt ya right here," Gabe said matter fo factly.

His lips quivering, Carl felt his feet start to sink as if they were in quicksand, yet he remained silent.

"I know Carl...I know that I'm gonna get my money from you..never once had any doubt about it...no use to kill your scrawny ass though....dead men don't exactly pay off their debts," Giavoni said amiably.

"Phew.....," Carl gasped in relief before Gabe quickly interjected once again.

"But Carl......I do need some insurance.... you understand."

"Anything..anything....you name it, " Carl quickly replied, wiping a bead of sweat off his brow.

"You keep saying..'anything' Carl..it seems to me the only thing that really gets your attention is when you start worrying what your family might think about you...," Gabe hypothesized.

"Keep my family out of this...I swear I will..," Carl sighed defensivly.

"Calm down Big Daddy," Gabe laughed wickedly."We don't do business like that. The wife and kids are safe...its your ass that's on the line Carl," Gabe added soberly.

"Then..what..?" Carl asked helplessly.

Gabe simply looked over his right shoulder and subtly nodded his head to his bodyguard Crash.

Seeing the bookie's nonverbal gesture to the behemouth beside him caused Carl to take a tentative step backwards. Unsure of what the nod meant, Carl shook his head side to side when he saw the strange sight of Crash starting to unbuckle his leather belt.

"Wa....wa..wa.." Carl stuttered, at first thinking the big black man was going to horsewhip him with the belt.

After Crash had undone his belt, Carl shuddred when he saw Crash start to work on the zipper of his black leather pants down. A moment later, Crash's entire massive black hand disappeared inside his trousers and started flexing suggestivly, the veins in the back of his hand throbbing as he looked a burning hole through Carl.

"We're gonna get ourselves a little insurance Carl....just to make sure you feel...'pressured'... to pay me.... in full," Gabe gleamed with soothing confidence.

As the words, " in full", trickled off Gabe's tongue, Carl's eyes seeemd to detach from their sockets when he focused on Crash pulling his lumber like, half inflated cock out into full view.

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When his great uncle Giavoni had offered the then young and upcoming 29 year old Gabe an opportunity to move South and a segment of the family business in Montgomary, Alabama six years earlier, Gabe had no idea what Southern culture was all about.

After years of trying to figure out how to get the rednecks' attention when they sank into a financial hole the way Carl Scroggins had, Gabe Giavoni had stumbled upon a way finally to make the customer more willing to pay up. After contemplating putting the plan for quite a long time, Gabe had finally decided Carl's case was perfect for seeing if his hypothesis would work.

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Gabe watched with grim amusement as Carl's eyes widened with vague, disbelieving recognition of what was about to happen.

"Like I said Carl....nothin' personal..I just need to make sure you're properly motivated to give me my money," Gabe quietly added.

Gabe nodded up to Crash once again, this time causing the hulking man took a step forward as he pumped his meaty appendage with his catcher's mit sized hand.

"Are you getting it now Carl...you ready to make out a little oral I.O.U.?", Gabe asked trying to contain his awkward laughter.

"Fuck you....I ain't.." Carl started, before he realized he had nothing to back up his false bravado with.

Gabe simply looked at Carl, waiting for him to finish his thought. Satisfied that Carl couldn't find the words to verbalize his way out of the impending punishment, Gabe gave a final nod to Crash and watched with fascination as his bodyguard took another step forward until he towered directly above Carl's shellshocked face.

"Better get busy Carl..I got other appointments today...I don't have time to waste!" Giavoni ordered.

Looking up with trepidation at the beast of a man in front of him, Carl did his best to hide his visceral fear as the reality of the conditions to the agreement registered in his gut.

"Get down to business Carl!" Gabe once again ordered.

"But I...," Carl pleaded.

"Down on your knees Carl..you don't want your wife finding out about your little problem do you?" Gabe threatened.

"I ca...ca...can't...," Carl mouthed.

Knowing he had absolutly no choice and had no where to run, Carl dropped his eyes, grossly ashamed of himself and looked down to the floor. His view of the floor however was blacked out by the nearly erect and massive cock that swung lewdly from Crash's crotch.

Trying his best to swallow his fear, Carl attempted to bend his knees as an overwhelming wretching feeling welled up inside of him.

Eventhough he was trying to kneel down with every fiber of his being to comply with Gabe's sadistic order, nearly 40 years of social conditioning prevented Carl from lowering himself for the lewd and vile act. It wasn't until Crash helped out with Carl's downward momentum by placing his huge hands on Carl's shoulders and pressing down did Tammy Scroggins's husband understand completly that he was about to experience his ultimate degradation.

"NNNOOOO," a voice deep within Carl's mind screamed as his fateful gaze fixated on his destiny.

Crash steadily continued pushing Carl down, forcing his trembling shoulders lower with the same ease of shuting a car trunk. A hint of a smile sparkled across both Crash's and Gabe's face when they saw Carl's knees hit the ground.

Carl winced in disgust the moment he felt his legs give way and the hard thud of his kneecaps resonated through the small office room.

"Open up," Carl heard Gabe offer as he bitterly tried fighting off the inevitable. "Open that mouth you little bitch..hahaha..give my guy a blow job Carl.....let me know you're good for the rest of the cash!"

Opening his mouth to make a final desperate plea, all Carl succeeded in doing was opening his lips just enough for Crash to dig his rough fingers into the kneeling man's mouth. Flexing his strength, Crash forced Carl's mouth open a little further and aimed his now bursting erection right at the target of Carl's parted lips.

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Crash really wasn't that big of a fan of this particular motivational technique of Gabe's, but he was handsomely reimbursed for his services and took a weird sense of satisfaction from seeing how 'victims' squirmed under such conditions.

He couldn't help stealing a peek lower as his throbbing joint dove between Carl's forced open lips and disappeared down the kneeling white man's apprehensive gullet. Carl's tongue felt like a cold dead fish undernerath Crash's rigid meat as he forced it in further.

Taking his hands off Carl's shoulders, Crash raised them slightly and closed his rough palms around both Carl Scroggins's ears, his cruel grip tightening with every inch of his spear that he drove home.

"AAAGGGRRGGHHHHHAAGGGOOOGGGG," Carl burped and gargled as Crash's vile and unnatural assault proceeded.

Eventhough Carl Scroggins would have never admitted it to anyone, this wasn't the first time he had been forced to take another guy's cock into his mouth. The first and only time it had ever happened, Carl had been 12 years old in the basement of his childhood friend, Danny Forney. Five boys had been sitting around bored that Summer and had ended up getting enthralled in a game of Truth or Dare. Carl had made the mistake of choosing 'dare' at the wrong time and ended up in that rather compromising position.

Thankfully for Carl, the bonds of youth kept that embarrassing interlude a secret for over 25 years. Now approaching 40, Carl was on his knees, this time out of neccessity, trying his best to detach himself from the reality of going through with it. The attempt at detachment was made especially difficult however because everytime Carl tried to swallow or breath, the hulking bodyguard's stabbing black penis seemed to press deeper inside Carl's foaming mouth.

With his eyes pressed into Crash's coarse pubic hair and his ears both sqeezed tightly in Crash's vicelike grip, Carl had no idea that Gabe Giavoni had stood up and was now strategically walking across his office.

Crash raised his gaze from Carl on the floor and shared an awkward smile with his boss as Gabe slipped past him. "Hold it right there Big Fella," Gabe said to Crash as he prepped the camera he had just taken out of his file cabinet.

Standing to each side of Carl, Gabe snapped off a series of pictures of Tammy's husband doing the deed from several angles without Carl even knowing.

With three photos left on the roll, Gabe leaned in real close and tapped Carl on the shoulder. Feeling the tap, Carl's first reaction was to think his little nightmare was finally over and Gabe was calling off the dogs. Pulling back slightly and rolling his eyes towards Gabe, Carl suddenly realized it was not a reprieve he was getting. With three quarters of Crash's dick still embedded in his mouth, Gabe snapped off a vivid closeup of Carl sucking Crash's huge black prick from point blank range.

Seeing Carl's eyes gleam with unmistakable horror, Gabe simply smiled and said, "Now we'll see if you find the proper motivation to pay up Carl."

"All right Crash..I think he's had enough," Gabe sighed, calling his bodyguard's advances off.

"Good thing, " Crash said deeply, "Boy has gotta lot to learn about givin' head!"

"HAHAHAHA," Both Crash and Gabe laughed mockingly.

Carl's gag reflex kicked in just then causing Crash's unquenched cock to spill free from his tentative oral grip. Carl sighed a quick internal "Thank God" to himself that the imposing black man was stopped before he actually came in Carl's mouth.

Still on his knees, Carl looked up at Gabe with silent reproach as the reality of what the pictures the bookie had taken meant to him if he didn't find a way to come up with the money he owed. Just the thought of the vile degradation he just perfomed actually caprtured on film made Carl's burn bitterly inside.

Curiously, Carl turned his attention back up to Crash above him and couldn't understand why the strapping bodyguard was still pumping his cock furiously in his hand even after Gabe had called off the dogs.

The understanding that Carl was missing was cleared up 10 seconds later when a laserlike stream of burning cum shot out of Crash's peehole and draped itself across Carl's face like a tracer of slimy mucus.

"Didn't think I'd leave here without bustin' a nut did ya?" Crash haughtily hissed down to a mortified Carl Scroggins.

Carl couldn't have looked more devasted if it had been a pot of hot coffee that had been dropped on his face as Crash relentlessly emptied his balls across the married white man's facial features, dotting Carl's forehead, cheeks, chin and the bridge of his nose with his sticky white fluid.

His head swimming, Carl temporarily lost his balance just enough that he toppled forward, collapsing with a messy thud against Crash's muscular left leg.

"Son of a Bitch is smearing all that mess on my new leather pants Boss," Crash spat angrily.

"We'll just have to add the price of the dry cleaning bill to Mr. Scroggins's account won't we," Gabe sarcastically replied.

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Sleep never came for either Carl or Tammy Scroggins that night. It was by far the longest night either could ever remember spending as each tossed and turned until nightfall gave way to sunrise.

The tortured memories that haunted both Carl and Tammy kept each in their own private Hell until the rays of sunlight peeking through the curtains and the sound of the alarm clock going off sent each onto their seperate daily routines, each suspecting that the gorry trail that they had embarked down was far from over.

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Tammy Scroggins felt as though her whole body was caked in molassis as she sat on the family sofa the next morning at a few minutes before 10. The seemingly neverending sleepless ordeal she had endured the night before had givenway to a day where she knew that at some point she had to go out looking for a new job.

Tammy was extremly tempted to lay back on the sofa to get some of the sleep she had lost but as she settled down, the same nagging memories of her afternoon at the adult bookstore and what she did there clouded her mind in an acidic fog, keeping her painfully awake.

Deciding that if she was ever going to get any rest, Tammy knew she had to find a way to, at least temporarily, put the shame and embarrassment out of her mind.

"That'll work," Tammy growled to herself as a spark of an idea glittered in her head.

Pulling her tired body off the sofa, Tammy dragged herself up the stairs to her bedroom so she could put on some real clothes. Eventhough she knew she needed to start looking for a new job, she decided a fresh bottle of rum would help her get through the day better than the "help wanteds" would.

Remembering she would have to pick up Roger at school later in the afternoon to take him to soccer practice, Tammy quickly called the mother of one of Roger's teammates to ask her if she could pick Roger up and take him also.

With that done, Tammy embarked on her trip across town to the liquor store furthest from her neighborhood to ensure, hopefully, that no one would recognize her.

An hour later, Tammy returned home with a fifth of afternoon relief.

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As she pulled her minivan back into the driveway, Tammy looked thirstily over to the bottle of Bicardi sitting in the brown bag on the passenger seat, desperatly wanting a taste. Seeing that the clock on the radio said it was a quarter to 12 noon, Tammy estimated that she had 5 full hours to take her mind off all the problems accumalating around her.

Bringing the vehicle to a stop at the end of the driveway, Tammy scanned the yard sensing something just wasn't right. After a few moments of careful inspection, Tammy discovered the source of her discontent.

The front door to the house was completly open.

"Oh God," Tammy mouthed disbelievingly. "I couldn't have done that."

With the stress she had been under combined with her lack of sleep and hurry to get to the liqour store, Tammy knew she was perhaps capable of such an oversight, but still, she swore she had closed the door before she left.

Grabbing her brown bag of rum, Tammy nervously exited the van and headed up the sidewalk to the house. Easing through the threshold of the front door, Tammy began to experience the same feeling of violation anyone does when they believe the sanctity of their home has been violated by an intruder.

Peeking her head inside the house, Tammy first though as she glanced at the stairs leading to the bedrooms was whether or not her jewelry was safe, some of which had been in her family for over 4 generations.

As she started to run for the stairs however to check her valuables, suddenly Tammy stopped cold in her tracks. Shivering from the jolt of ice cold fear that trickled down her spine, Tammy realized that if someone had broken in, they might still be in the house.

That's when dozens of scenerios started swirling through Tammy's head. There had been a few random burglaries in the neighborhood during the past few months and then it hit Tammy with cold hard certainty. With the stress she was under, Tammy had just slowly started putting two and two together.

"Oh..my God...NO...," Tammy groaned, finally tying the blackmail plot over her pictures to the front door being opened when she got home. "They've been in here before!" Tammy shock her head, on the verge of tears.

Feeling the unimaginable heat of fear well up inside every fiber of her being, Tammy turned back towards the front door, sensing that she was being watched.

As paranoia's frigid grip nestled into her pysche, Tammy first inclination was to call Carl and explain everything. Moving her feet nervously back down the hall towards the phone in the family room, as she entered the room, something she saw stopped Tammy cold in her tracks.