The Hardon Brothers And The Case of the Cum-Crazed Zombies

Copyright 2007 CKG

An important note:  If you were to meet any of the Hardon brothers, they would introduce themselves with a pronunciation of their last name as "Hard-un"; however, it becomes mispronounced "Hard-on" for ridicule sake by others within the course of the text.  

 

     The worst nightmare of every heterosexual male on the Hartwood University campus had come true.  Dawn had broken on the ‘sorority house on slut hill’ to find it cordoned off by yellow police tape.  Inside, no visible sign of trauma on any of the bodies, were the corpses of twenty young women.

     This information had been leaked to the press and was now circulating through the throng of onlookers that lined the perimeter of the crime scene.  Among those gathered were Chandler Dunnivan, Brantley McClure, and Adam Gerard, all Hartwood University first years.  Of the three, Chandler and Adam had spent many a night in the sorority house studying their favorite subject, the female anatomy, with numerous pairings of the sorority girls who used prostitution as a means of paying for their college education. 

     Only Brantley had refused to go on these excursions, falsely stating that his fervent religious beliefs kept him from premarital sex.  Secretly though, he never failed to trail his friends so that he could watch their sexual conquests through the sorority house windows.  Over time, the young voyeur’s courage had been growing, and he had finally gotten up enough nerve to accompany his friends on a sojourn, only to find his carnal palace locked by death. 

     “Someone has to pay for this,” Chandler said in a quiet, yet wholly indignant, tone.

     “Yeah, that was some good pussy taken out of this world,” replied Adam. 

     “There are other sorority houses on campus; we can just start giving our business to them.”

     “What’s this ‘we’ and ‘our’ shit, Brantley?  You always let Jesus get in the way of your dick.  You’ve been putting it to him, when you should have been putting it in some chick’s vagina.  But you’re in luck, Jehovah, because tonight I’m going to give you the chance to redeem yourself before those bitches are six feet under, where not even my humongous dick can reach them.”

     “What are you talking about, Adam?”

     In reply, Adam approached Brantley, placed his hands on his shoulders, and said, “I mean we’re going to pay homage to those girls for all the good times they gave us.  If they’re going to their graves, they’re going with our cum on their lips, just the way God intended.  The three of us, along with a half dozen of my good friends, are going to break into the morgue tonight, and we’re going to blow our hot loads onto those whores’ cold faces.”

     And it was in that instant, with a raging erection and Adam’s beautiful full lips only inches from his, when Brantley realized beyond any doubt he was going to Hell. 

 

     “Do you think all water polo players are gay?” Unaware of the sorority house situation, Jensen Hardon posed the question to his older brother, Jacob, as they were walking across campus.

     “Seeing as how the majority of them have girlfriends, I’d say that was a definite ‘no’”.

     “Then why the hell don’t they lay off my nuts and my ass?  Every time I’ve got the ball, someone from the opposing team has his hands on mine.  Usually, they’re forcefully trying to separate my sack from my rod, but it’s still genital contact, and it seems really gay.”

     “All men, little brother, have a preoccupation with the genitals of other men.  Athletes especially, for the cause they want to know where they stand in the cock size hierarchy.  Water polo allows them to grope you while also breaking your concentration.  It’s an “I’m taking one for the team by committing a homosexual act” psychology.  They get to play on their latent gay natures with a justifiable excuse.”

     “Well, there should be limits to how they play.  In today's match with twenty-nine seconds left in a tie game, the guy blocking me had already pulled my Speedo so far up my ass that more of it was inside than outside me.  Then, just as I was about to take the shot, he shoved his right ring finger straight up my anus.  Out of sheer shock, I dropped the ball, which he picked up with his left hand, tossing it to his teammate, who made the game-winning shot.  And what could I do?  Cry foul that our team had been finger fucked out of a victory?  No referees or cameras underwater, so anything goes, including my virgin ass being defiled by…”

     “Wait, did you just say ‘virgin’?  I go off to college and leave you a high school senior who’s crushing on the obviously gay, yet horrifically repressed, place kicker of the football team, and you mean to tell me…”

     Jacob stopped short.  He and his brother had come within proximity of the sorority house, and both felt a macabre shiver of excitement course down their spines at the sight of numerous body bags being removed from the building. 

     “It looks like the slut house on sorority hill has had its license forcefully revoked,” Jacob said quietly.

     “Slut house?”
     “All the frat boys went there to get their rocks off.  Hell, I paid to go there a couple times myself; those were some savvy whores to create secure areas where gay males could secretly watch the hot straight guys in action.  Maybe one of the heteros found out about the side business and decided to take a bit of revenge.  Why don’t we do some investigating, little brother, and see what we can learn?”

     "Between sleuthing, water polo, and your having sex all the time, we're going to flunk this semester, aren't we?"

     "Fuck no; we'll get our degrees in mysteries, Speedos, and semen!  That's an education money can't buy, little brother."     

     A few minutes later, Jacob and Jensen set aside their jocularity and approached three young men who were standing near the sorority house.

      “Do you know what happened here?” 

      The triumvirate turned in unison, but it was Adam who responded to Jacob.

      “Yeah, twenty of the best damn hoes this side of the Mason Dixon just got offed.  Saddest day of my life.” 

      “Offed?  As in gunned down by the mob?", Jensen asked incredulously. 

      “No, that's the mystery,” Brantley answered.  “There’s not a mark on any of them.”

     “Then their cause of death was probably gaseous in nature or, more improbably, something ingested.  A poison of some sort.  On a side note,” Jacob said, turning his attention back to Adam, “you should always speak precisely when you’re being questioned and refrain from using generalities such as 'offed'.”

    Annoyed by Jacob’s condescending tone, Chandler questioned coldly, “And just who are you?  Dare I guess, Nancy Drew?”

     “No, I’m Jacob Hardon and this is my brother, Jensen.  We’re…”

     “Spell your last name,” Brantley demanded, as though he knew it was a weakness to be exploited.  

     Jacob, alternately perplexed and off put by the request, did so begrudgingly.  Seconds thereafter, Adam burst into derisive laughter. 

     “The Hard-On Brothers?  Oh, fuck, that’s rich!  What are you?  A couple of detective poster boys for the gay porno industry?  Will you whack each other off if I yell ‘Jenkies!  A clue!’?”

    Jacob Hardon had a temper, especially when demeaned by an individual less intelligent than himself; it came out blazing when his right fist connected with Adam’s jaw.

     Before Adam could recover his senses to counter attack, Chandler had intervened, grabbing Jacob by the back of his jeans and pitching him down an embankment.  Instinctively, Jensen moved to jump Chandler, but Brantley anticipated the assault, locked his arms around Jensen’s waist, and threw him to the ground.

     The brawl had not gone unnoticed.  As Jacob charged back up the hill, he was met by a police officer, gun drawn and pointed in his direction. 

      “He’s the one who started this, officer; he started asking all these questions about the sorority house, and when I didn’t give him the answers he was looking for, he sucker punched me.”

      “I can vouch for everything Adam has said,” Chandler added. 

     “Yeah, and I can vouch that the three of you are a pack of homophobic assholes!” remarked Jensen from where he remained pinned beneath Brantley.

      “You keep your mouth shut!  As for you, cowboy,” the officer said, now addressing Jacob, “put your hands behind your head.” 

     Knowing he had acted in an indefensible manner, Jacob did as he was ordered.  The officer approached him, frisked him vigorously, and then handcuffed him. 

     “I want to press charges,” Adam stated while massaging his jaw.  “I want to send Mr. Hard-On to prison and then sue him for everything he’s worth.”

      By this time, another police officer had arrived and had ordered Brantley to remove himself from Jensen’s person.  The second officer then led Brantley and Jensen over to the first responder, who posed a question to Jensen.

      “Who threw the first punch?”

      “My brother, but…”

     “Was he threatened in any way before the assault?”

      “No, but that asshole was making fun of…”

      “I’ve heard everything I need to hear.”  The officer turned to Adam.  “If you want to press charges, you’ll have to come down to the station and bring a witness.”

      “I’ll come,” Chandler offered without first being asked.

      “Jensen, call Sterling, tell him he’s going to have to post bail, and ask him not to mention my little indiscretion to mom and dad.”

      “I won’t let you down, Jake.”

      Seconds thereafter, cell phone in hand, Jensen was about to make the call when Brantley intercepted him.

      “Wait, man; we have to talk.”

     “Why, so you can tackle me again and get another erection?  That didn’t go unnoticed, you know.  Do your hetero- frat boyfriends know your dirty little secret?” 

     “To set the record, no pun intended, straight, the erection came about because you’re hot; the tackling was to save your life.  A&C are steroid-pumped lifters; they would have killed you if you had jumped them.  Your brother was damn lucky his neck wasn’t broken when he was thrown down that hill.”

     “Yeah, lucky to be led away in handcuffs and to be facing jail time for assault.”

      “Look; I’m sorry he got arrested; I’ll try to talk Adam out of dropping the charges.  I don’t know if it’ll do much good, because he’s pretty much a psychopath.”

      “Then why do you hang with him?  Why run with wolves when you’re not one.”

      “Because the wolves have taut bodies, come home drunk, strip naked, mistakenly climb into my bed, and give me a free pass at fondling them.”

      “And you’re telling me this because you’re certain I’m a not a homophobic heterosexual who’s going to send you to the hospital for molesting his drunken brethren?”

      “You lisp on certain words; it’s a dead giveaway that you’re gay.”

      “I lisp?”

      “Yeah, but it’s cute…to another gay male.  Adam and Chandler would never let you hang with them, which is why you’re not going to say a word when you’re with them tonight.”

       “What are you…”

       “You and your brother are curious to find out about what happened at the sorority house.  Well, so am I, and I think A&C had something to do with it.  They’re planning some kind of perverse ritual tonight; they and few other guys are going to orgasm on the corpses of the dead girls as tribute to the services they provided them.”
       “Oh fuck, man, that’s totally sick; we’ve got to call the police and put a stop to this!” Jensen started to dial ‘911’, but Brantley took the cell phone from his hand. 

       “I can’t let you do that.  If this ritual doesn’t occur, we’re never going to know why Adam has such a fascination with the sorority house.  The girls are dead and, by all accounts, they didn’t mind cum on their faces while they were alive.  They sure as hell aren’t going to care now that they’re dead.  If you call the police, sure, they might have a plant there to arrest Adam and Chandler, but all they’ll get them for is trespassing, and the mystery of the sorority house slayings will go unsolved.  So, are you in, or are you out?”

       Jensen responded with a grin.  “Oh, I’m always out, but for you and your erection-prone football tackles, I suppose I’ll be in just this once.”

 

     Jacob Hardon had heard about the oddities of the Hartwood Jail, but now he was testament to one of them.  Upon arriving at the station, the arresting officer had instructed him to take off all his clothes.  Jacob, of course, had expected to then be issued some horrifically unstylish convict jumpsuit, but that hadn’t occurred.

     “I’m not a prison go-go boy!” Jacob shouted to the guard as his cell door slammed, and he was left wearing only a transparent pair of low cut Hartwood Jail-issued briefs.     

     “No, but you’ll think twice before trying to escape.  You won’t get far with your penis showing the way it is and ‘Property of Hartwood Prison’ scrawled in red letters across your tight backside.  Don’t think of it as a violation of your civil liberties; think of it more as this facility doing its part to keep the criminally deranged behind bars where they belong.”

     “Firstly, if ‘criminally deranged’ can be defined as punching a lobotomized heterosexual Neanderthal across the face, this place would be overrun by menstruating women.  Secondly, being a homosexual male, I have no qualms about showing my penis to anyone who professes even half a desire to see it.  That being said, fucker, given the slightest opportunity, I will run out of here:  bush, nuts, and cock to the wind!”   

     As the guard left, trailing mocking laughter in his wake, Jacob was comforted by the fact that his younger brother was doing everything in his power to extricate him from the hell into which he had leapt.

 

     “Are you certain it looks good on me?  I mean, I’ve been a blonde my whole life; it just looks so unnatural.”

     Brantley leaned over Jensen’s bare shoulder and came so near to him that their faces touched.  “It looks preternatural, not unnatural; there’s a big difference.  With your pale skin, the dark hair makes you look very unearthly.  Like you’re a ghost or someone who’s not long meant for this world.”

     Jensen shivered.  “A chill just went up my spine as you said that.”

     “If you’re getting cold, then I’d better warm you,” Brantley replied before leaning in to kiss Jensen.

     Jensen returned the affection but then pushed Brantley away when the kiss coupled with a hand straying down his bare abdomen.  “You’re moving too fast; I just met you.  Besides, we’re working on a case, remember?”

     “Oh, yeah, the case.” Brantley muttered dejectedly.  “We should get going to the morgue.”
     “Do you really believe the dyed hair is going to make me unrecognizable to Adam and Chandler?  I realize they’re idiotic, alcohol/clitoris-addicted frat boys, but they’re not blind.”
      Brantley went to his closet, pulled out a baseball cap, smiled, and put it backward on Jensen’s head.  “Now, if you put on one of my polo shirts, you’ll look just like them, especially if it’s the pink one, because for some reason the most obnoxious heterosexual frat boys love wearing pink polo shirts.”
      “If irony could slay…”

      “Oh yeah, remember not to speak; that sibilant ‘s’ will get you nailed in no time flat.  Remember; we want our dicks, not our cover, blown.”

                 

     Fifteen minutes later, Jensen, Brantley, and five other young men stood before Adam and Chandler in the cadaver room of the county morgue.  The slabs on which the twenty young women were lying had been extended from their refrigerated compartments.

     “Boys, it’s really quite simple,” Adam stated with a wicked grin.  “We just pull out our dicks, grease our palms, go to town, and shoot all over their beautiful faces.  It’ll be our final tribute to the sluts of sorority hill for all the good times they gave us.”

      “Oh, God, I think I’m going to be sick,” Jensen said quietly.  He would have said more, but Brantley shot a menacing glance that silenced him.

      “I’m going to skip out on the fun and play watchdog,” Chandler stated.  “It’d be difficult to explain to a security guard if he came in and saw all of us with our pants down, our cocks mere inches from a dead sorority girl’s mouth.”
     The boys’ mischievous grins faded as fast as they had appeared when Jensen suddenly interjected, “Look, guys, I didn’t realize all this would go down the way it has.” 

     Eight pairs of eyes, a thinly veiled fury beneath each of them, turned towards him. 

     “I mean; I just whacked off before I came here, not to mention once this morning in the shower.  There’s no way I can shoot again so soon.”

      Adam and Chandler began to approach Jensen, and the nearer they came, the more unsteady his words became.

      “Don’t think I’m downing what you’re doing or anything; hey, I think it’s cool and all, but I think I’d serve the group a lot better if I acted as watchdog and let Chandler take part in the fun.”

      By this time, Adam was in front of Jensen, and Chandler was behind him.  When Adam began to speak, Jensen instinctively went to move backward, but Chandler grabbed him and pinned his arms. 

      “Well, if it isn’t one of the Hard-on boys.  And to think we never would have known it was you, standing in the back of the room, your cap pulled down and your hair dyed, if you hadn’t spoken.  Maybe we should do you a favor and cut your tongue out.”

      “I’m not afraid of you.”
      “You should be.”

      “What you’re doing here tonight is really sick.  You shouldn’t defame the dead.”

      “You’re not afraid of me; I’m not afraid of ghosts.”

      “Stalemate.”

      Jensen almost lost consciousness as Adam’s fist crashed against his left temple.  He would have careened to the ground had Chandler not been holding him.  “Tie him up.  We’re going to give this little fucker the thrill of his life in watching us jack off, and then we’re going to cut out his tongue so he can never tell anyone what we’ve done here tonight.”

     Two minutes later, Jensen was bound and gagged, helpless to do anything should Adam decide to carry out his brutal threat.

     “He was right about one thing, and that’s needing another set of eyes to serve as watch.  Brantley, you’re with me on point.  I’ll canvas the front of the building, and you get the back.”

      “Right on, man,” Brantley replied. 

      However, before leaving, he turned back in Jensen’s direction and winked at him.  The youngest Hardon brother felt his fear lessen, knowing his newfound friend was going to get help.             

     “Alright, we’ve wasted enough time; let’s get down to business, boys.” With these words, Adam walked over to one of the sorority girl corpses, unzipped his pants, pulled his dick out, spit into the palm of his hand, and started to masturbate in earnest. 

      Each picking a different girl to defile, the other frat boys followed his lead.  Once they had orgasmed; they ran their fingers through the semen splattered along the faces of the six dead girls and went around, spreading it on the lips of the other fourteen corpses.

      After the last corpse had been defiled, the men gathered, exchanged smiles and high fives, went to the cooler they had brought, and each opened a beer.  Their objective complete, their collective attention was now focused on Jensen. 

      “Well, if it isn’t our own Hartwood University version of Matthew Shepherd.”

      Jensen’s eyes flooded with tears.  Adam wasn’t bluffing; the hatred in his voice was palpable.  There was some horrific well of violence within him, and Jensen knew he was about to be forcefully drowned in its depths.

     With amazing speed and ferocity, Adam’s fist once again connected with the side of his head.  The blow sent Jensen and the chair to which he was bound careening to the floor.

     “That’s one for me; there are five of you behind me.” Adam then questioned without turning, “Who’s next?”  His eyes were too fixated on the trail of blood emptying from the side of Jensen’s head to look at those he addressed.

     “Cum.”

     Unmistakable, terrifying, and remarkable in two regards:  firstly, that the voice had been female, and secondly, that it had originated in a room where all the women were dead.

     Adam turned on the group in a rage. “It sure as hell isn’t the time to be joking around!  Who changed their voice like that and said the word ‘cum’?”

     “Cum.” Once again, the same refrain, only now the point of origin was horrifically unmistakable.  The group looked towards it, only to see one of the sorority girls sitting bolt upright on the steel morgue slab.  Slowly, her head and body turned towards the young men, and her face contorted in a savage, starved manner as she spoke again.

     “Cum!”

     “Holy fuck!” Adam screamed, his face blanching as white as that of the reanimated sorority girl’s corpse.

     “Cum!” The word came again, this time from a different point of origin.  Another of the sorority girls was now seated upright on her morgue slab.  Seconds thereafter, the two reanimated corpses numbered the full set of twenty, all speaking the same word over and over again. 
      “Cum!”

      Adam and the group of frat boys ran for the steel door that led out of the room only to find it locked.  With the room having no windows, it was the only point of exit.

      Desperately, Adam began to pound on the door with his fist.  “Chandler!  Brantley!  Open the mother-fucking door!!  We’re trapped in a room full of cum-crazed zombies!!”

      But it was too late.  As he felt a tug on the back of his belt, Adam turned to see one of the sorority girls staring at him.  Most of the other frat boys had already been pulled to the ground; their pants were unzipped, and the girls were going to town on their dicks.  Yet, it was the most feral among them, the queen of the starved, rabid zombie drinkers of cum, who had Adam’s penis in her sights…and moments thereafter, in her mouth.     

      As for Jensen, he was terrified to the point of near hysteria.  Two feet away from him, one of the zombies was blowing a gorgeous frat boy.  The young man’s pants and briefs were around his ankles, and the sorority whore was having the time of her undead life on his erect cock.  Two other sorority girls were holding him, preventing him from struggling, but from the look of approaching nirvana on his face, it was apparent he wasn’t about to attempt escape. 

      Then, the moment came, that glorious release; the dream of a frat boy to be submissive to multiple women had been realized.  The frat boy’s eyes had closed at the moment of his orgasm, and a smile of satisfaction washed over his face.  His cum had streamed like molten lava into the zombie’s mouth, though she kept sucking until every drop had been drained. 

       Once the orgasm had reached its crescendo, a change overtook the frat boy.  His smile disappeared; his eyes, seemingly vacant of a soul, shot open, and a one-syllable word slipped in a monotone from his lips.

       “Cum.”

     Then, as though sensing a source of what he craved, his eyes locked on Jensen.  The frat boy quickly cleared the space between himself and the youngest Hardon brother and untied the bindings that kept him to the chair.  Jensen would have taken the opportunity to escape had a number of the other zombies not been at the frat boy’s side, pinning Jensen’s arms and legs to the floor. 

     With single-minded purpose, the frat boy pulled Jensen’s jeans and briefs down and fixed his mouth to Jensen’s penis in a steady, undulating motion.  Jensen had never experienced a blowjob before, and the instant the moist, hot 98.6 degrees of the frat boy’s mouth met with Jensen’s dick, his will became non-existent.  

     He felt an orgasm nearing, an out of control force that was going to be a deluge.  As he was about to explode, Jensen heard Adam’s voice, cold and monotonous, speak the word, ‘cum’.  Then, Jensen’s body gave way to orgasmic spasms; his eyes closed, and he felt as though all his strength were leaving him.  The frat boy continued to suck his dick until it became painful, but suddenly relented when Jensen opened his eyes and spoke the word that indicated he had become one of the brethren. 

     “Cum.”

 

     The steel door to the morgue suddenly swung open.  Brandishing handguns, Chandler and Brantley entered the room and emptied a few rounds into the zombies nearest them.  However, instead of firing at the remaining zombies, Chandler and Brantley easily fought off their sexual advances.  When Zombie Adam reached for Chandler’s dick, the latter reached back, grabbed Adam around the wrist, and pulled him from the room.

     “Get yours and let’s get the hell out of here!”

     Obeying the order, Brantley grabbed Jensen and absconded with him. 

     As the four ran from the building, Chandler angrily demanded to know why Brantley had chosen Jensen Hardon.

     The enigma of an answer was spoken as a single word.

      “Revenge.”

 

     “I’m here to post bail for Jacob Hardon.”

     On the hearing of his older brother’s voice, Jacob’s acidic tongue was unleashed from its brief sabbatical.  “Sterling, this place is run by a pack of subversive, redneck homosexuals!  It’s like ‘Deliverance’ in a jail cell!  Get me the hell out of here!”

     Sterling made his way to the area where the cells were located, and looked upon his brother, standing near naked behind bars.

     “Officer, why isn’t my brother wearing any clothes?”

     “What he’s wearing is the Hartwood Jail inmate uniform.  As for the bail you mentioned earlier, it hasn’t been set.  Mr. Hard-on just got here a few hours ago, and the judge won’t see him until tomorrow.  Looks like he’ll be spending the night with me.” With this last line, the officer winked at Jacob. 

     “Dream on, Jeffrey Dahmer!”

     “Jake, you’re not helping matters.  Officer, this is all highly irregular.  They manner in which you’re treating my brother is…”
     “Yeah, yeah, yeah.  The media, the ACLU, the state board of prisons; you’ll call them all, and they’ll be all over me like flies on shit.  Well, pretty boy, it’s all been tried before, and there’s nothing they, or you, can do.  Your brother’s genitals and buttocks are covered; he’s got use of a toilet; we’ve fed him, and no one’s touched him improperly.  Therefore, the Hartwood University police have met all their obligations for his care.  Had he not desired to be reprimanded to our custody, Mr. Hard-on should have refrained from assaulting another human being.”

     “Assault of a homophobic asshole is a justifiable offense!”

     “Son, there are those who say assaulting a homosexual is a justifiable offense; if you let one side of the coin start beating the hell out of certain parties, then you have to flip that coin and allow the other side the same rights.  And you’re not asking for that are you, boy?”

     Jacob smoldered in reply.

     “I didn’t think so.  Now, I’ll allow you some time to visit with your brother, and then…”

     Before he could finish his thought, the door of the station tore open, and a young officer rushed in.  His face was blanched, and he spoke in a near panic. “Chief, you’re not going to believe me, but it’s the end of the world out there!”

     The chief couldn’t tolerate sniveling; he reacted immediately, slapping the subordinate across his face.  “Calm down and tell me what the hell it is you’re talking about!”

     The assault sobered the officer; when he resumed speaking, he was more controlled, though his terror was still apparent. 

     “Bud and I were out on patrol by Lakeshore Park when, all of a sudden, we saw this pack of young men and naked young women walking in our direction.  Well, this sick smile lit on Bud’s face, and he said he was going to enjoy making the arrest.  As soon as I saw those girls, I had this horrible feeling wash over me, but I didn’t know why.  I hesitated; I told Bud something was wrong, but he wouldn’t listen to me.  He got out of the car, and started walking towards the group.  By the time I had gotten out of the car, Bud had been surrounded.  I could hear them all chanting one word.  ‘Cum’.  Then, I realized those girls were the ones who had died in the sorority house this morning!  I screamed at Bud and tried to warn him, but it was too late.  They were all over him, ripping off his clothes and fighting to get at his dick.  When one of them got their mouth on it, the others relented, and began to look around, as though they were searching for their own.  Chief, the dead are walking, and God save us, they’re cum-crazed zombies!”         

 

     In the backseat of Adam’s 69’ Chevelle Super Sport, it was the owner, for a change, who was being molested, and, incredulously enough, it was a man who was molesting him.  Chandler was all over Adam’s near naked body, kissing the lithe frat boy and groping his half-erect cock.  Adam was returning the affection in a starved manner, but it was apparent his desire was for one substance, evidenced by his constant calling out for it. 

     “Cum!”

     “Hey, Brantley,” Chandler said, addressing the driver of the car, “how do you get one of these things to hold off on going down on your dick?  I’d actually like to be raping him, as opposed to him raping me.”

     “The virus forces the neurons of the brain to believe cum is a life-sustaining fluid.  Once the virus is contracted, you’ve essentially got a raging alcoholic or crack addict on your hands, only the substance they want to abuse is semen.  If you want him submissive, you’ll have to let him blow you, and then he should be sated for a few hours.  During that time, you can have your way with him.  Or, if you’re insisting upon having your way with him now, you can tie him up…”

     Brantley paused, reached to his right, and caressed the youngest Hardon brother's face.  

     “…just like I’ve tied up my blonde angel, so I can worship every inch of him once we get to a more secure location.”

     Because Jensen was bound to the passenger seat, he couldn’t move to prevent Brantley’s advances.  Not that he would have wanted to, because the virus had re-wired his brain, leaving him with but one desire.  To please the man nearest him.  And that man was Brantley McClure, the creator of the virus that had enslaved his will.   

 

     The police chief was out the door the minute the switchboard started going haywire with more reports of cum-crazed zombie related activity.  However, before he left, he took one parting shot at Jacob Hardon. 

     “Just to tempt you, because I don’t think much of you, and I’d like to see you spend the rest of your days in penitentiary, I’m leaving the keys to your cell on this desk.  If you’re gone by the time I get back, I’ll hunt you down, convict you for felony escape, and then charge your brother as an accessory.”
     The instant the chief had left the premises, Jacob made clear his choice of action.  “Sterling, unlock the cell door, so I can get out of here before he comes back drunk and carrying a bottle of lube!”

     “Jake, do you know how many students have passed through this jail without becoming victims of a sexual assault?  He’s just taking a tough line with you so that you think twice before breaking the law again.”

     “Sterling, you heard what that deputy said; the dead are out there walking and, apparently, going after any male with a penis.  It sounds like my kind of party, and I don’t want to miss it.”
     “Then, you’re safest where you are, because if I let you out, you’d join their ranks and go on the hunt.”

     “Damn straight, but it’s too good to be true.  The ‘zombies’ are probably just some of my fellow Hartwood classmates on a sexual rampage.  However, seeing as how our little brother is a virgin in the midst of all this promiscuity, call Jensen and warn him.  If someone went after his penis in an unsolicited manner, he might spontaneously combust.”

     “On that point, I’ll agree with you.” 

     Sterling made the call, but unexpectedly, a stranger answered Jensen’s cell.

     “I was calling to speak to my brother.  Who is this?”

     “Ah, Jacob, I was wondering when you’d call.  Guess you’ve been too busy fucking to check up on your little brother.”
     “This isn’t Jake; I’m Sterling, and I want to…”
     “It doesn’t matter what you want, because you’re irrelevant to this game.  If Jacob is there, I want to speak to him.  If he’s not, this conversation is finished.”

     “Wait; don’t hang up; Jake is here.  It’ll just take me a minute to get him.”

     Sterling took the phone from his ear and placed it against his chest.  “Jake, a psychopath answered.  He says he wants to talk to you.  I think he’s got Jensen.”

     “Give me the phone.” Once the cell was in his hand, Jacob wasted little time or cordialness.  “Who the hell is this?  What have you done with Jensen?”
      The voice on the other end of the phone replied calmly, deliberately.  “Jacob, long time no speak or suck.  This is Brantley McClure.”
      “Should I be familiar with that name?”

      “You should be, yes, and if you’re not, then it’s a discredit to you as a human being.  I’m the guy who restrained Jensen this morning at the sorority house; you must have recognized me.” 

      “You were one of the homophobes?  Why would your face be recognizable to me?  And where is my brother?  Why are you answering his cell?”

     In reply, there was a brief measure of silence; when Brantley finally spoke again, his voice had taken on a menacing tone.  “I’m glad we’ve spoken tonight, Jacob Hardon; it reaffirms everything I’ve done and everything that is yet to come.  Last semester, we met randomly on campus, and you initiated a conversation with me.  I thought you were very beautiful, so when you suggested we go back to your apartment, I acquiesced.  We started making out and swiftly moved to a more intense level of intimacy.  I blew you, and I expected you would return the favor.  However, a few minutes after your orgasm, you asked that I show myself out.  When I said I wanted reciprocation, you replied I had been allowed to blow you, and that was reciprocation enough.  You went on to state that you didn’t blow anyone; you just fucked them, or you let them suck you.  That night, you weren’t in the mood to fuck, and if you had been, you wouldn’t have fucked me, because I wasn’t blonde; honestly, you stated, I was beneath your standards, and you had only let me blow you because you needed to get off in a bad way.  Now do you remember who I am?”
     “No idea whatsoever.  And just so you know, I give that spiel to all of my sexual partners; it keeps them from getting any romantic notions.”

     “But not homicidal ones.  It actually encourages those, you fuck.  You waste of breath!”

     “Jensen has nothing to do with this; if you’re so offended by the way I treated you, you’d be a hypocrite to bring any harm to him.  Because then, you’d become me.”

     “No, never me.  I won’t become you, but the rest of the men on this planet will.  If all you want is to be slaves to your lusts and to treat people like shit, then I’ve created a virus that will accommodate you.  Already, it’s raging through this town, and the clincher is, there’s no cure for it.   I’m the only one who knows how to create a vaccine, but tonight I’m leaving on a jet plane for a better world, and I’m taking your brother with me.  Just like in the film “Jules and Jim”, I’m choosing the man I love, and I'm leading him down into Death with me.  Only before Jensen goes, I’m going to drink from him; he’s going to drink from me, and then I’m going to make love to him.  And it’s going to be pure, not the filthy, meaningless acts that you and your kind do to one another.  It’s going to be Love like the angels love God, as God loves man, not as man loves man.  Purity in Death can only be obtained through destruction of Life, and thereby, may mankind know salvation.  Bet you wished you had treated me better now, don’t you, you son of a bitch?”
     Then, the line went dead.

     All the fight had left Jacob’s voice.  “Oh God, Sterling, he’s going to kill Jensen.”

    “Who’s going to kill Jensen?  Why would anyone…”
    “There’s no time to explain.  Just get the key and open the cell.” 
    “Jake, you can’t break out of…”
    “A psychopath is about to kill our brother!  For fuck’s sake, stop being rational and get me out of here!”

    Sterling did as his younger brother commanded, and Jacob wasted no time in getting out of his prison.  However, in his haste to exit the cell, Jacob dropped Sterling’s phone. 

     “Sterling, I have to get my clothes; grab that.”

     Sterling went inside the cell, kneeled to pick up the phone, only to have the door slam shut, trapping him inside.

     “Jake, what are you doing?”

     “I’m sorry, Sterling, but you’re just too good sometimes.  I’ve got to save, Jensen, and I can’t have you second-guessing me every step of the way.” Sterling was about to protest, but Jacob cut him short.  “Don’t argue; there’s no time.  The guy on the phone said he’s going to take Jensen out of the world tonight, and he mentioned something I don’t understand.  Something about a film called “Jules and Jim” and taking the one you love most into Death.  Sterling, do you know what he meant?”
     “The principle character was a woman involved in a ménage a trois with two men.  At the end, she chose the man she loved most and then drove off a bridge with no middle, killing herself and him.”

     “The old Slattery Bridge!  It used to span the lake, but when the new one was built, the engineers collapsed the middle of the older bridge, leaving it as a fishing pier.  Oh fuck, Sterling, he’s going to drive off the bridge with Jensen!”

     Having come to this horrifying conclusion, Jacob Hardon gathered his clothes from the evidence room, hurriedly put them on, and then smashed the firearms cabinet with a chair.  From this cabinet, he chose a nine-millimeter handgun. 

     All the while, his brother was trying in vain to convince him to rethink his impulsiveness, but it was to no avail.

     “Jake, you always act without thinking of the consequences!  You’re going to get Jensen killed!  Let me out; I’ll come with you, and we can stop this guy together.”

     “Sterling, I got Jensen into this mess, and I’m going to get him out of it.  That’s the end of the discussion.”

     With those words, Jacob exited the police station, got into his brother’s car, floored the accelerator, and drove off into the darkness. 

 

     At the same time, the car with Brantley, Jensen, Adam, and Chandler had come to a stop outside Adam’s off-campus apartment.

     “Did you ever think you’d be coming here to make love to Adam?”

     “No, man, right in his own bed and everything.  It’s downright surreal.  What about you and your guy?”

     “While I was on the phone with his brother, he said Jensen was a virgin, so I’m going to take him to the Hilton and make it special for him.”
     “All that talk about committing suicide, it was just a cover story, right?”

     “Yeah, I just said it to scare his brother.  However, I do intend to disappear with Jensen…can’t let the world corrupt what we have.  I suggest you do the same with Adam.”

     “It won’t wear off will it, the virus I mean?  I mean, when you hypnotized him into helping us suffocate the sorority girl with carbon monoxide and then believing going to the morgue was his idea, you said the effects could wear off anytime.  He’s not going to wake up one morning, find me inside of him, and murder me, is he?”

     “No, the virus is like herpes; once you’ve got it, you’ve got it for life.  You’ve had the vaccine, so you’ll always be in your right mind.  Perhaps the only male on the earth who will be.”

     “Well, there will be you.”

     “Yeah, of course.  Look, man; time’s running short; I’ve got to make good on the escape.”

     “Take care, Brantley.”
     “You too, Chandler.”

     Alone with Jensen, Brantley turned towards him and tenderly put his hand on the youngest Hardon brother’s face.  “Jensen, I’m going to take you someplace nice, and I’m going to make love to you.  Just like your brother should have done with me.  And then, we’re going to go be with God in Heaven, where no one will ever come between us again.”

 

     Jacob had driven only a couple of miles when his cell phone rang.  He saw from the caller ID that it was Sterling, so he answered ready for a fight.

     “Sterling, don’t bother trying…”

     His brother’s frantic voice cut Jacob short.  “Jake, the zombies are in the jail!  They don’t understand the concept of the prison bars, and they’ve set the place on fire to try and get at me.  You have to come back and get me out of here!  There are propane tanks stored a few feet away, and the fire…”

     The echo of an explosion thundered through Jacob’s cell phone.  Seconds later, having fallen into a dangerous state of rage, the phone slipped from his hand, and his foot slammed down on the accelerator.

      "Brantley, you fucking son of a bitch, I'm coming to murder you!"  

      

     The old Slattery Bridge loomed like a great hulking beast around Jacob Hardon.  He stood on the edge of its chasm, staring down at the black water beneath him.  In his hand was the nine-millimeter handgun he had stolen from Hartwood Jail.  Murder had never before that night entered his mind, but there was no way the last of his brothers was going to die that night.

     The last of his brothers. 

     The thought hit Jacob and ripped down to his core.  Overcome with guilt, he wanted to dive into the water, submerge, and never rise again.  

     The self-destructive thought had no recourse to linger, as the sudden flash of headlights at the opposite end of the bridge warned that Fate offered no more time for Jacob to mourn his eldest brother's death.  

     The car was speeding furiously towards the blockade, and seconds later, with incredible violence, it had splintered the ‘road closed’ sign.  With both hands, Jacob steadied the gun, and he waited.  Its headlights blaring in the approach, the car would have to go off the bridge before Jacob could take a shot.  His window of opportunity would be a millisecond, but it couldn’t be missed.  Brantley had to be dead before the car hit the water, or he would try to prevent Jensen’s rescue.  If the car went under without Jensen being pulled from it, all was lost.

      As the car barreled down the bridge, the chasm seemed to widen and extend towards it; when, at last, it threatened to swallow the car, Jacob fired four rounds into the driver’s side of the windshield.  Not hesitating a moment, he leapt into the water and swam furiously towards the vehicle.  However, with one glance in the passenger window, it became horrifically apparent that Jensen Hardon was beyond rescue.

      Before the car had made its final drive, Brantley had taken Jacob’s younger brother, tied him to the driver’s seat, locked the steering wheel in place, and weighted the accelerator.  Now, Jensen's pale blue eyes stared lifeless out at his brother.  His murderer.

     In the first throes of shock, Jacob dropped the gun into the water and began to swim towards the shore.  By the time he reached the beach, the emotional weight of the night’s events had almost maddened him.  He fell on the sand, wept inconsolably, and lay grief-stricken as Brantley kneeled beside him. 

      “Alas, poor Jacob, your will has been broken.  I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long that it seems surreal that it’s finally occurred.  It’s almost sad that so formidable a mind has been destroyed, turned to dust like all the others.”

      Brantley rolled Jacob onto his back, lifted him into a seated position, wrapped his legs around Jacob’s waist, and held the back of Jacob’s head with one hand while tenderly touching his face with the other.

     “Beautiful creature, you played the valiant hero with such virtuosity, running off on your own to catch the big, bad, pedophiliac killer; yet, you never stopped to consider that the child who had called you for help had been forced to do so under duress from me.  You fell right into my trap and, once I had you, that young man became expendable, and you became my plaything.  I have to admit your will proved quite indomitable will for one so young; yet, you've succumbed in the end.  Look how far you’ve fallen; just a few hours ago, you never would have permitted this without struggle.”

     Brantley reached into the front of Jacob’s wet briefs and fondled him.  All the while, Jacob, a prisoner of his imploded mind, stared out into the darkness of his grief.

     “And yet, your transformation is not complete; there is still a chance you could recover your mind, and I cannot allow that.  Though you yourself have never seen one and are perhaps apt to disbelieve in their existence, there are cum-crazed zombies in this world.  No, they aren’t the dead walking; they are men who have been consumed by their lusts.  You’ve seen yourself in tonight’s revelations numbered among them; however, without my intervention you might have escaped your destiny.  Lithe-bodied boy, you were born to be a whore, and a whore is what I shall make of you.”

      Brantley brought Jacob to his knees, then stood, unzipped his pants, pulled out his cock, and pressed it against the young man's lips.  “Open your mouth, Jacob, and atone for what you did to your brothers tonight; be repentant for that boy I murdered when you took his place as my concubine; drink from me, child, and be absolved of all your sins!”

      Jacob’s lips parted, and he took Brantley’s cock into his mouth.  For his part, Brantley kept his hand against the back of Jacob’s head and began to gently pulse his body.  A short while later, he was orgasming in Jacob’s mouth.  Only when the deluge had ended did he look down, slide his cock from Jacob’s mouth, and speak.

      “Now, what do you say, my little whore-child?”

      Jacob stared up at Brantley, his eyes vacant and glazed over, and one word slipped from his lips.

      “Cum.”

 

     The session was at its end.  With the mind-altering implant in Jacob’s head shut off, the beach and nearby lake vanished.  In their wake, a sparse steel laboratory had come into existence.  The restoration of reality even extended to Jacob’s age, peeling back the years until he was his true self again, seventeen years of age, barely a junior in high school.  He had been an honor student, but to see him now, near naked, down on his knees, the evidence of a man’s orgasm trailing from his lips, one would not imagine him to be anything other than the mindless hull of a human being.

     Nearly a month ago, he had been lured to the laboratory, where he was easily overpowered and taken captive.  The young eight-year old boy he had come to rescue was raped and murdered in front of him.  The killer then focused his malevolence on Jacob, depriving him of sleep, starving him, raping him, and wearing down his will.  After a week or so of this treatment, a mind-altering implant was placed in Jacob’s head, and his weakened will succumbed to an altered state of consciousness.  In his new reality, Jacob was aged, and his sexual inhibitions were destroyed. 

     Now, the programming had run its full course, transforming Jacob Hardon into a slave to his sexual desires. 

     “What is that you live for, Jacob?” 
     “Cum,” came the monosyllabic reply. 

      Dr. Nero Caligula smiled triumphantly.  It had never worked before; the children had always reverted back to innocence after the device had been shut off.  Not having hit puberty, they were too young to be polluted by lust.  This time, however, the device had been a smashing success; Jacob Hardon, at seventeen years of age, full of raging hormones and licentious thoughts, had been the perfect subject.  

      However, Dr. Caligula’s triumph was short-lived as the door to his laboratory was smashed open, and a small battalion of FBI agents stormed the room. 
      “Back away from the boy, kneel on the floor, and place your hands behind your head!”

     Dr. Caligula did as he was ordered, smiling all the while because he knew what was to come. 

     In a blur of motion, one of the agents was on the ground, knocked over from behind.  Jacob was on top of him, fighting in a crazed fashion to unzip his pants so that he could get at his cock. 

      “Cum!”

      “Dear God, someone get him off me!”

      “Cum!”

      As two agents fought to restrain Jacob, Dr. Caligula’s laughter echoed through the laboratory.

     “He’s mine!  None of you can ever undo what’s been done to him!  No one can take his soul from me!  Put me to death for my crimes, but know that so long as he lives, I live!”

     Dr. Caligula was dragged from the room, and Jacob was doing his utmost to break free and go to him, all the while screaming for his newfound life’s blood.

      “Cum!  Cum!”

    

     One month later, having spent the entirety of that time in intensive psychiatric rehabilitation, Jacob Hardon was released to his family’s care.  It had helped immeasurably that, during the therapy, he had been visited by his brothers, eighteen-year old Sterling and sixteen-year old Jensen, and been given assurance that they had not come to harm.  His parents had been present throughout his rehabilitation; yet, there were times when his father, especially in the days when Jacob stilled called out for cum, looked at him as though he were something diseased.  He would often leave the facility and take long drives, trying to shut out the echo of his son’s monosyllabic pleading from his mind.

     Consequently, an uneasy tension permeated the Hardon home; a fault line had formed between a mother’s pity and a father’s disgust.  Between the two, Jacob felt as though he were an interloper, like someone who had gone away, lived as an adult, failed at the attempt, and had come home to a place where he was no longer welcome. 

     As though his waking hours weren’t enough of a torment, nightmares plagued Jacob's sleep.  Waking in the middle of the night from flashbacks of his ordeal, he would often go running in effort to subjugate his demons.  

     On one such night, he did not get very far. 

     Passing his older brother’s bedroom, Jacob looked in to see if Sterling were still awake and, if so, to ask if he wanted to go running.  He found Sterling sleeping atop the covers, his taut limbs bathed in moonlight, their musculature that of an athlete in his prime.  Everything about the eldest Hardon brother invited carnal touch, but nothing more so than the erection that pressed against the white cloth of the boxer briefs he wore. 

     Jacob felt a ravenous hunger consuming his soul, spreading out to his flesh, producing an erection as unconcealed as Sterling’s beneath the white compression shorts he wore.  He looked upon his brother’s near naked body, and he wanted it as much as he had wanted anything in his life.  All that he had experienced in Dr. Caligula’s brainwashing sessions was still burned into his mind; he knew if he went to Sterling and started to blow him, resistance might come as a result of shock, but in the end, his brother was a man with an erection, and Jacob knew such resistance would not be sustained.

     Their parents were away; Sterling wouldn’t be able to call out for them, and if he should be so foolish as to cry out for Jensen, then Jacob would drink from him as well.  If he turned his brothers into what he was, he wouldn’t be an interloper among them any longer.  They would all share the same bond of lust and would understand one another’s needs.  Their father would never again look at Jacob in a disdainful manner.  All his sons would be the same in his eyes, and if he hated one of them for their lusts, he would be forced to hate them all.

     Set in his purpose, Jacob stepped across the threshold of Sterling’s bedroom.  This wasn’t the world of vampires in which one had to be invited in; this was the world of men wherein whatever one wanted, one took, regardless of whether the other party wished to relinquish it.  Jacob was going to take his older brother’s cum by force if need be, and all that separated him from the fount was a few stealthful steps. 

     He never got to take one of them, for just as he stepped across the threshold, a voice spoke quietly from behind him.  

     “Is something wrong, Jake?  Why are you going into Sterling’s room?”
     Jacob turned to see his younger brother, Jensen, standing in the hallway.  Having gotten up to satisfy a late night spell of hunger, Jensen was only wearing a short t-shirt and a pair of briefs.  The mound beneath the soft cotton cloth was not erect, nor as pronounced as Sterling’s, but it was visible nonetheless, and Jacob hungered for it.   

     The sexual predator into which Dr. Caligula had transformed Jacob was now in full control of the young man’s psyche.  It had a palpable choice:  ravage the eighteen-year old sleeping demigod or corrupt a virginal blonde sixteen- year old.  As it was a foregone conclusion, there was no deliberation in the decision.   

     With tactful ease, so as to not awaken his older brother, Jacob reached back and closed the door to Sterling’s bedroom.  Left alone with Jensen, Jacob’s eyes hungrily locked on his younger brother, and he began to advance towards him. 

     “Jensen, you have to help me.  That man who kidnapped me, he did things to me, things that forever changed me.  I can’t get them out of my head tonight.”

     Not feeling any wariness, except a slight ill at ease at the way his brother was staring at him, Jensen innocently asked, “What can I do to help?  Do you want my glass of warm milk?  It might help you sleep; I can just go back downstairs and get another.”

     “Sweet angel,” Jacob said in a dramatically darker tone as he backed Jensen against a wall, “your warm milk will be the ailment for all my woes.”

     In a matter of seconds, Jacob had fallen to his knees; during his descent, his hands had trailed down, pulling Jensen’s briefs down with him.  Before the young man could think to resist, Jensen found his will stripped as his brother’s mouth wrapped around his cock.  The feeling of pleasure was so overpowering that the teenager couldn’t do anything but acquiesce.  Weakly, out of a sense of morality, he whispered the words, “Jake, stop”, but he didn’t mean them.

     The tide of an impending orgasm soon approached, and when the tide crested past the dam of Jacob’s lips, the hot stream of teenage male lava poured down his throat, coating it, so that the aftertaste would linger for hours.  Once the deluge had subsided, Jacob fell back against a wall, exhausted.  His eyes shut, he marveled that Jensen had not fallen on the floor beside him, and he wondered how it was that his younger brother could still be standing.  The answer came in a monosyllable.

     “Cum.”

     Jensen’s eyes shot open, and he stared at Jensen, who was now kneeling on the floor, crawling towards him. 
     “Cum!” 

     Jacob had turned his brother into a cum-crazed zombie!  The virus he had encountered during his virtual reality mind fuck had been real; Dr. Caligula had infected him to be a carrier, and he had in turn infected his brother!

     Jensen was now on top of him, pulling at his compression shorts, trying to lower them to get at his penis.  Jacob struggled to fight, but the virus had made Jensen a great deal stronger.  The struggle was over when he was stripped and Jensen’s mouth locked to his cock.