Tim and the StudBusters get their revenge on Gordy in the conclusion of the piece.

Bachelors Party - Parts 3 & 4
by Jeff Kincaid
Art by Cavelo
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Somewhere in the darkness the sadistic Gordy had forced Tim to scrawl out the note and sign it. "Say 'no' and I'll do it to your bails, one at a time," he'd threatened; and Tim had to know that his old pal was fully capable of carrying out that threat, unrestricted by any moral compunction. "Write the name, buddy, come on."

The bridegroom quitclaimed his rights to Nancy, becoming less than a man.

Gordy contentedly bundled him into the car and drove him out to the Jersey marshes, humming all the way. "Lose yourself," he advised, booting Tim out into the murk, spitting and pissing on the groveling heap that once was a stud, now little more than a stinking pile of defeated muscle, dazed and moaning. "Come back and I swear man; I'll kill you."

"He would, too," Kevin's brother was convinced, Studbusters or no Studbusters.

Even were we to go out and fix Gordy's wagon, what difference would it make? How could Nancy's real bridegroom ever get up the guts to face her again? "The bastard really fucked me but good - for life." Fucking him back, even as a gang, wouldn't remove the incriminating tattoo. It wouldn't eradicate the brand on his ass, or replace his foreskin. What we saw was what he would be from here on in; oh, God. "Oh my God."

"You think Nancy would turn her back on you even if she knew that your friend Gordy betrayed you like that?"

"Man," he replied, astonished at my ignorance, "I've been spoiled! She wouldn't be able to take the sight of me. I don't care what she'd say at first. She couldn't"

"Then," as far as Harker was concerned, "maybe she's not the girl you want to marry, after all." It boiled down to one thing, whether Tim became a husband or not; did he want to see Gordy take Nancy to wife? "What happens after that, is up to you."

Did Tim want to let his "best man" marry his lady ... to fuck him and her, practically in the same fell swoop? Did he?

"Fuck no." he suddenly realized, incensed. Alive. "What do I have to do?"



All Studbuster plans involve an element of risk. This one made the others look like foregone conclusions, though, because what we were asking the brutalized bridegroom to do was go back like Daniel into the lion's den and, to mix the metaphor, to wave the red flag in front of the bull. To "take it" while clinging to the hope that we could get there in time to make it worth the sweat And there as no way we could guarantee that.

"Hey," Tim said, showing us some of the spunk that Kevin had indicated at the start. "I'm dead already; you can't kill a guy twice."

"You can in your case," Ryan wanted him to understand - but Mr. Klein's favorite model was already on his way out The more time that went by the more time Gordy got to consolidate his position with Nancy, to play sympathetic friend and hold her hand. Stroke her head. Tell her how much he worried that she was doing the right thing when it came to someone with as many "psychological problems" as Tim, a dude nowhere near as stable and constant (and loving!) as her real friend, true-blue Gordy.

"I always loved you," he undoubtedly would whisper, squeezing her arm, pressing her pretty face tenderly into his own pretty damn masculine chest "I always was watching out, wanting to make you happy." Sickening stuff. But a jilted lover, vulnerable and confused, just might eat it up alive. She just might agree that she should have married Gordy in the first place... and she just might say "yes" when he popped the question. Why let a gown, a ring, a church and a tux go to waste? Not to mention a jolly old bachelor party at a well-known strip joint? The laughs flowed with the booze, a goodly number at "schmucky" Tim's expense, everybody hearing that their absent buddy got himself one of the most advanced cases of prenuptial jitters on record, bugging out for parts unknown, the little coward! It wasn't fun to watch. Had duty not required it, Harker Hines and his cousin Mario wouldn't have been there at all - but they were the red uniformed waiters for the event. (You don't want to know what we had to go through just to get them hired, believe me.) They made sure the gross-mouthed Gordy wanted for no beverage. Making double sure that the bottle(s) he drank from had the appropriate doctoring.

There was no concern on the part of the party when he reeled around skunkdrunk not even halfway through the evening, legs rubber and belly rebelling. Maybe they'd be doing his bride a favor by taking him home and tucking him in - "Nancy wouldn't appreciate a limp dick on her wedding night" they were sure.

"Shnot going to be shrimp," he slurred, but they took him back to his apartment, anyway, tucking him in and hurrying back to the club, unaware that Gordy hadn't really been left alone. A shadow was looming up over the bed, knife in hand, wide-eyed and growling. Mad.

Tim Asche, tempted to forget all the big plans, tempted just to cut this fucker's heart out His arm swung upward, getting ready to stab down -- and Gordy's still-booted foot slammed up into his nuts, doubling him over.

The knife clattered to the floor as the wind whooshed out of his lungs, the shriek cut off even before it could emerge from the throat when the possumplaying groom took the side of both his hands and slammed them with bone-breaking impact into the side of his would be attacker's neck. Tim staggered into the wall, devastated and done in, his body sliding down into a heap on the floor. Gordy punched him in the face, bloodying his nose. He yanked him up by the hair and threw him over an overturning chair.

"No more, please," Tim could only whimper. "You got me, man." He tried to crawl for the door but his adversary wasn't letting him out so fast "You cruddy little scumbag," he hissed. "You don't fucking learn, do you?" He stomped on the muscular thigh with both heels. Tim yowled, then sobbed, as Gordy grabbed himself a fistful of his shirt, ripping it off as he threw Tim across his bed.

"What did I say I'd do to you if I saw your ass again? What did I say?" The thumb and forefinger were at his victim's ass, pinching the still raw brand and, when Tim started to shriek, he gagged him with his own mouldy jock. "First I'm going to fuck you every which way but loose and then I'm going to carve you up in pieces, you cunt. You Goddamned faggot cunt"

"Listen, Nancy," he stammered. "This isn't what you think." I watched those eyes with hawk like intensity - they were looking for a way out and they mirrored the danger lurking behind them.

"Isn't it Gordy?" She tiptoed sideways, hugging the perimeter of the room, the sagging, sodden Tim her goal.

"No." What she had to understand was that Tim - her big strong macho man - had actually asked him to fuck him over. "I don't know what these guys have been telling you," he went on, gesturing at the Studbusters fanning out on all sides of his undressed body at bay, "but Tim's a, you know, he's a fag. An S&M freak fag, a real nut case deviate. He liked what I did to him - laid the whole thing out beforehand."

"And you accommodated him?" Each word was a dagger as she worked to free her beloved. "If he said throw me off the Empire State Building that's what you would have done?" What kind of a friend tattoos a slogan like "I suck dick, girls" on the chest of a poor deluded wacko and then goes on to brand his ass with the outline of a penis in orgasm? What kind of friend agrees to cut the foreskin off a grown man, not even in a hospital or a doctor's office, mind you, but on the floor of his filthy apartment?"

"Yeah," came the sullen defensive reply, "you want that heap of shit, lady, great. Fine. You got him. And every time you snuggle up to that chest you read that tattoo and you can remember that you knew one guy, at least, who could vouch that it's true."

She leapt at him, fingernails extended. Ridges of blood welled up in parallel lines across his cheek, but so what? Nancy was giving Gordy his make or break chance, and he was taking it, grabbing her and whirling her into an armlock from behind, using her as a shield.

"I'll snap her neck, if you don't stand aside. I mean it, cocksuckers." This was followed by an immediate thud and the smallest of grunts, the armlock falling by the wayside as the bested best man crumpled ignominiously to the floor. He became the heap of shit he'd described his former friend as being the very same former friend who'd lunged up off the table to grab a nearby lamp, who'd smashed the thing hard across the back of Gordy's handsome head - hard enough to knock him out, leaving him motionless on the floor.

This was followed by as heartwarming an embrace as you'll ever see, just prior to any good fade-out on the silver screen - the lovers reunited, about to live happily ever after in spite of the tattoo, the brand, the circumcision and the ass rape.

"Oh," I said tentatively as they came up for air, "if you want to stick around while we even the score"... shit, they were more than welcome. Somehow, though, I didn't think they'd accept the invitation - not given the way that whang hanging between Tim's legs was trying to pump up, despite the pain he must have felt from the amateur surgery.

And I was right Kevin was designated the Asche family surrogate, the happy couple dressed and going home. "I almost wish I had a couple of handfuls of rice right now," Mario sighed, his romantic sentiments interrupted by a moan from the floor.

The best man was waking up, the eyes fluttering, that "where am I?" look screwing up his face, almost comical when he got his eyeballs focused and he remembered where we were, who we were, and what we were probably going to do to him.

The jaw began to flap, the hand up as he crawled idiotically backwards across the floor, away. "Listen, guys," he jabbered. "Really. He got a hard-on. A boner, man, big. Dripping syrup, I'm giving it to you straight; the guy dug it - you know how many times he came, he was so turned on? You wouldn't believe it!"

Our looks told him we didn't believe it. Our feet were stepping after him, cornering him against the wall.

"All right all right Three-two. That's a lot of cum to shoot if you're not turned on. You have to admit that. For shit's sake," he screamed, seeing absolutely no variance in our glowering expressions, "what'd I do that's different from what you Studbusters do? I busted a stud, right? Right?"

"Yeah," Mario sneered, looming over him with a pecker the size of a 747 and twice as wet. "Only that stud didn't earn it. Our studs always get what they deserve."

His fingers closed around a clump of the hair on Gordy's head, thick. Wavy. The youngest of the team pulled him up with that handful, making him yelp.

Smash; the yelp was aborted by the back of Ryan's hand. "If you're going to cry over that" he observed quietly, "you're going to come through the next few days a whole lot worse than your buddy came through your abuse." He bit down on the nub of the subjects pinkish tit grinding it between his teeth and turning it red.

"Aaaaaaarrrgggghhhhkk," Gordy wailed, finding his arms pinned by several pairs of unforgiving hands. It felt as though the Studbuster was going top chew the whole nipple off his pec.

"Ever take a couple of dicks up your ass?" A question which popped the best man's eyes wide open. What did we mean, two dicks? At the same time?

"Man," he cried, "I've never had anything up my ass! Go easy, please!"

"Sure," Harker nodded, circling his twisting body and standing behind it, one finger stroking the delicate skin at the bottom of his butt. Little by little it homed in on the innocuous little anus and pressed lightly against the bud. Lightly became just a little bit heavier, the pressure increasing bit by bit, slowly but surely. A gasp bubbled up out of the throat to signal first penetration; one finger.

I winked at Kevin. He spat on his palm, then rolled Gordy's flaccid dork up in it as though it were a frankfurter and his hand the bun. Ryan was now chewing up the other tit and Harker had two fingers up inside that cherry ass.


"You're ripping me apart," the best man husked, adding a number of 'hhuukks' and 'nnggnnhhs' and 'waughs' on top of it. The penis was growing in Kevin's hand and his tits were like holes just drilled through his chest; his ass was on fire. 'You can't fit a whole hand up there!"

"You bastards," he wept, feeling the fourth finger and thumb burrow through into his chute. "You fucking faggot bastards."

"I'd be real careful who I cursed out with that word from here on in," Kevin said slowly, continuing to masturbate Gordy's swollen mat, cognizant of what the outsized balls were doing. "I think you're going to get as much of a charge out of all this as my brother ever did, and a whole lot quicker."

Even as he spoke Gordy went "wwaaoouuugghhnnghh" and a first load of spunk shot in massive bullets out of his spastic shaft. Before the weekend was over he was going to break the world's record, wasn't he?


We weren't worried. Gordy was going to say "fuck me" a lot by the time we got through with him. He was going to say "fuck my ass, you Studbusting bastards," and he was going to mean every fucking word..


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