He stared at the wall for some time, looking at the rotting surface as he sighed, holding his 44 Magnum in his right hand, his gloved left hand going over his face slowly as he made a long sigh.
It wasn't what he wanted. He had never wanted this. But...his family.
"I...I don't want to do this," Barry Burton said quietly as he looked at his gun.
He knew he had some power. With a pull of the trigger, he could take his tormentor's head clear off without any effort at all. No muss, no fuss, he always said as he pointed the gun's barrel at the wall.
The six foot tall, muscular man with red hair, rugged, stubbly face, and nerves of steel noticed the gun trembling in his hands.
"I don't care what you do or don't want to do, Barry," a voice said from only a few steps away, "You're my toy until I'm finished with you. That is, unless you don't value your family as much as you claim."
"I do," Barry growled as he turned to face Albert Wesker standing against a nightstand, the blonde man's own arms crossed against his chest, "But I don't see why you want..."
"I don't expect you to question my motives, Barry," Wesker replied as he smiled, his eyes piercing Barry's even through his black sunglasses, "I simply expect you to follow through like a good dog."
Barry frowned at the man and turned his gun on Wesker quickly, releasing the safety. "You know, I could kill you right here, right now you son of a bitch!" Barry yelled. His resolve was steady but his hands were not as they continued to shake the gun aimed at his captain.
"Yeah, you could..." Wesker replied, "But then what about your wife? Your daughters? What were their names...? Oh, yeah! Moira and Polly."
"You shut up!" Barry growled, "Don't you dare say their names!"
"I wonder what my people will do to them when they find out I've been murdered? Stabbed outright? Taken out to the forest and shot? Or maybe the elements will be with them and they can be burned or drowned!"
"SHUT UP!" Barry yelled and fired a shot from the Magnum.
Wesker, however was still standing, scowling at the anguished man as he let his gun fall from aim and to his front as he slumped over, sobbing quietly.
The bullet had missed Wesker by more than enough distance, planting itself into a bookcase in the back of the room, shattering the glass of the case and damaging several of the books.
"I'll pretend that did not happen," Wesker said quietly as he walked closer to Barry. Snatching the gun out of the other man's hands, Wesker threw it toward the back of the room, where it made gentle contact with the bed.
Barry looked up at Wesker who gave him an evil smile. "Okay," Barry said quietly, "I-I'll do it."
Wesker chuckled and replied, "Of course you will." Wesker then grabbed Barry by the vest collar with surprising strength and roughly drew the man to the dresser.
"Turn around," Wesker said as his hands went toward his pants and began to unbuckle his belt and unzip his fly.
Barry obeyed and turned around, cringing as he heard the sound of Wesker's zipper sliding down the links. "God..." Barry whispered then with more anger asked, " Just...do what you have to do then stop."
"Oh, don't worry," Wesker said as he pushed his tight pants around his ankles, "All I need is a few minutes. Pull your pants down," Wesker commanded as he rummaged in his vest pocket and produced a tube of petroleum jelly that he had packed for minor wounds and possible situations like this.
Barry was hesitant at first, not wanting to believe that he was about to partake in such a sinful act but then finally drew his hands over his own belt, unbuckling it slowly, then the zipper with as little speed as possible, wanting to savor the final few moments of his dignity before it was all shattered.
"Hurry up, Barry," Wesker whispered with more lust in his voice than anger or urgency. Wesker had applied the jelly to his right hand and was vigorously stroking the lubed hand over his sizeable member.
"Wesker, can't you just..." Barry pleaded but was silenced when Wesker produced his sidearm and held it to Barry's head all while still stroking his hardened penis.
"Take off your pants and shut the fuck up," Wesker growled in shallow breaths.
Barry looked at Wesker's reflection in the mirror and at the gun that pointed at his head. He closed his eyes and pulled the zipper down the rest of the way and then proceeded to inch his pants and black boxer briefs down his hips until they reached his knees. Barry suddenly felt more vulnerable than he had ever felt in his entire life.
Wesker chuckled as he stopped stroking his penis and placed his gun back into the vest strap. "You've got a shapely ass, Barry," Wesker said as he began reapplying jelly to his right index and middle fingers, "If it weren't so hairy I would've mistook it for a woman's."
Barry said nothing only looking at Wesker's reflection in the mirror, scowling darkly. Suddenly he felt the intruding fingers of Wesker and automatically cried out at the burst of pain that nearly overcame him.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" Wesker asked viciously as he made dug deep inside Barry, lewdly stroking his manhood for Barry to see, "I can tell you've never been rammed before. Big guy like you probably does all the ramming, huh?"
Barry only groaned as his eyes closed tight trying, in vain, to block out some form of pain.
"You know, it's best for someone like you to start of slow," Wesker replied as he pulled his fingers out of the trembling man, "Tight ass like that deserves special treatment." Wesker placed his right hand at the base of his penis and guided it toward Barry's unwilling anus. "But since we don't have a lot of time..." Wesker made a guttural groan as he pushed his way into Barry.
"No, please! Wesker, stop! STOP!" Barry cried out, finding the pain of this sudden, forceful entry too much to bear. His hands gripped the dresser in an attempt to brace himself.
"No..." Wesker managed to get out as he grunted with a final thrust of his hips. He placed his hands on Barry's hairy buttocks and began rapidly pumping into the man.
"Oh! OH!" Barry cried out as he felt the painful thrusts of Wesker penetrating him again and again, tearing him apart from within. But even worse than the pain was the fact that his own manhood was betraying him, rising from a thick red patch of pubic hair and already drooling semen from the engorged head, even as his ass was under attack.
"Open up, you dick!" Wesker yelled as he drove deeper into Barry, "I want it all! You hear me!?"
Barry cried out again when Wesker made an especially rough slam against his behind. He wished for death at this point, hoping that a gang of those monsters would come in and kill him and the bastard that was raping him. At this point, he felt he should rather die than to have to come to his wife and two daughters and tell them what he had been through. That he had basically sold his body, not unlike a prostitute. No matter that it was for an honorable cause. He just knew that his family would reject him.
And he wouldn't blame them.
"I'm coming!" Wesker suddenly exclaimed, "Oh, OH! Here it comes! Here it comes!"
And come it did as Barry felt tears streaming down his stubbly cheeks as he felt a warm sensation enter him. He could feel Wesker's massive manhood throbbing constantly inside of him until finally the blonde man pulled out with a grunt, smearing the excess of white semen over Barry's buttocks.
Wesker chuckled as he pulled his pants up over his softening penis and zipped them up. Sighing again, he sat down at the edge of the bed and looked at Barry who still stood bent over the dresser, his muscular tensed, his strong hands gripping the edge of the wooden surface until his knuckles had grown white.
"Turn around," Wesker said between pants.
Barry had been crying, his eyes closed as he tried to fight back the tears, his face contorted in a fit of anguish and rage. He did not want to listen to Wesker but he relented and slowly turned around, pulling his pants up in an attempt to hide his throbbing erection.
"Stop. I didn't tell you to pull your pants up," Wesker said. The blonde man stared at his colleague's partially nude body: a long penis jutting from a patch of reddish-brown pubes, hairy thighs, and a slightly portly, very hairy stomach.
Barry kept his eyes to his penis, desperately trying to will it to return to a flaccid state but to no avail.
"You know, men are like machines," Wesker said as he sat back a bit further on the bed, "When we feel something bad we react to it. The same goes for if we feel something good, which is what you obviously felt just now."
Barry said nothing.
"But it looks like you need a bit more help," Wesker said and suddenly popped up from the bed and stood face to face with Barry.
The two men stared at one another for a long time. "Make sure not to touch me," Wesker said and kneeled down toward Barry's crotch and, without taking off his sunglasses, engulfed all eight inches of Barry's manhood into his mouth.
"What the fuck!?" Barry said with a start but was suddenly finding himself in complete bliss as he begrudgingly accepted this action from Wesker. He could feel Wesker's warm mouth and tongue working his shaft, toying with the head and prominent veins. He felt the man's hands gently knead his testicles, pulling the sac and running through the reddish-brown pubes. And then Barry Burton, loving husband, father of two beautiful daughters and all-around heterosexual male, grunted deeply as his penis shot out jet after jet of semen into another man's mouth and reveled in the pleasure that the man's act had brought.
Wesker continued to work Barry's penis until it began to grow limp then the blonde man slid off the manhood and turning his head the other way, spit out the semen on the hardwood floor. Spitting one more time for good measure, Wesker sighed and stood up, walking over to the bed and sitting back down.
They stared at one another for a while.
Wesker finally asked with irritation, "Are you going to pull up your pants? We've got more to talk about."
Barry glared at Wesker one more time. The man did not know what to think. Wesker: a man that had brought so much pain and suffering to him had turned around and helped him in return. What was it all about? Was he planning something else? If so, what?
"Yeah...sure," Barry said slowly and bent to pull up his pants of his naked waist.
"Don't marinate too much over what I just did, Barry," Wesker said, "It was just a simple transaction between the both of us. You volunteer pleasure to me and I give it right back."
"I had no choice in the matter," Barry replied heatedly as he zipped up his zipper and buckled his belt.
"Of course you did," Wesker said as he smiled evilly, "You didn't have to give up your ass, granted if you actually made a bigger stink about it."
"But you said my family..." Barry protested. He was suddenly feeling very confused and even angry at himself for feeling this way.
"Well, I guess that makes you the best family man in the world, eh?" Wesker replied as he stood up, taking Barry's gun in his. Setting the safety back on the Magnum, he tossed the weapon back at Barry who easily caught it in his right hand. "They'd be so proud to know you'd do anything, and I mean anything, for them."
Barry's anger toward Wesker had returned after a moment's absence. "You bastard," Barry growled.
"Save it for later," Wesker said with more seriousness in his voice, " Now I want to talk about your role in this operation and how you're gonna get rid of Jill for me."
Barry attempted to say something else but Wesker went on talking about what he should do next. And deep down Barry knew that the matter would never be mentioned again.
It wasn't what he wanted. He had never wanted this. But...his family.
"I...I don't want to do this," Barry Burton said quietly as he looked at his gun.
He knew he had some power. With a pull of the trigger, he could take his tormentor's head clear off without any effort at all. No muss, no fuss, he always said as he pointed the gun's barrel at the wall.
The six foot tall, muscular man with red hair, rugged, stubbly face, and nerves of steel noticed the gun trembling in his hands.
"I don't care what you do or don't want to do, Barry," a voice said from only a few steps away, "You're my toy until I'm finished with you. That is, unless you don't value your family as much as you claim."
"I do," Barry growled as he turned to face Albert Wesker standing against a nightstand, the blonde man's own arms crossed against his chest, "But I don't see why you want..."
"I don't expect you to question my motives, Barry," Wesker replied as he smiled, his eyes piercing Barry's even through his black sunglasses, "I simply expect you to follow through like a good dog."
Barry frowned at the man and turned his gun on Wesker quickly, releasing the safety. "You know, I could kill you right here, right now you son of a bitch!" Barry yelled. His resolve was steady but his hands were not as they continued to shake the gun aimed at his captain.
"Yeah, you could..." Wesker replied, "But then what about your wife? Your daughters? What were their names...? Oh, yeah! Moira and Polly."
"You shut up!" Barry growled, "Don't you dare say their names!"
"I wonder what my people will do to them when they find out I've been murdered? Stabbed outright? Taken out to the forest and shot? Or maybe the elements will be with them and they can be burned or drowned!"
"SHUT UP!" Barry yelled and fired a shot from the Magnum.
Wesker, however was still standing, scowling at the anguished man as he let his gun fall from aim and to his front as he slumped over, sobbing quietly.
The bullet had missed Wesker by more than enough distance, planting itself into a bookcase in the back of the room, shattering the glass of the case and damaging several of the books.
"I'll pretend that did not happen," Wesker said quietly as he walked closer to Barry. Snatching the gun out of the other man's hands, Wesker threw it toward the back of the room, where it made gentle contact with the bed.
Barry looked up at Wesker who gave him an evil smile. "Okay," Barry said quietly, "I-I'll do it."
Wesker chuckled and replied, "Of course you will." Wesker then grabbed Barry by the vest collar with surprising strength and roughly drew the man to the dresser.
"Turn around," Wesker said as his hands went toward his pants and began to unbuckle his belt and unzip his fly.
Barry obeyed and turned around, cringing as he heard the sound of Wesker's zipper sliding down the links. "God..." Barry whispered then with more anger asked, " Just...do what you have to do then stop."
"Oh, don't worry," Wesker said as he pushed his tight pants around his ankles, "All I need is a few minutes. Pull your pants down," Wesker commanded as he rummaged in his vest pocket and produced a tube of petroleum jelly that he had packed for minor wounds and possible situations like this.
Barry was hesitant at first, not wanting to believe that he was about to partake in such a sinful act but then finally drew his hands over his own belt, unbuckling it slowly, then the zipper with as little speed as possible, wanting to savor the final few moments of his dignity before it was all shattered.
"Hurry up, Barry," Wesker whispered with more lust in his voice than anger or urgency. Wesker had applied the jelly to his right hand and was vigorously stroking the lubed hand over his sizeable member.
"Wesker, can't you just..." Barry pleaded but was silenced when Wesker produced his sidearm and held it to Barry's head all while still stroking his hardened penis.
"Take off your pants and shut the fuck up," Wesker growled in shallow breaths.
Barry looked at Wesker's reflection in the mirror and at the gun that pointed at his head. He closed his eyes and pulled the zipper down the rest of the way and then proceeded to inch his pants and black boxer briefs down his hips until they reached his knees. Barry suddenly felt more vulnerable than he had ever felt in his entire life.
Wesker chuckled as he stopped stroking his penis and placed his gun back into the vest strap. "You've got a shapely ass, Barry," Wesker said as he began reapplying jelly to his right index and middle fingers, "If it weren't so hairy I would've mistook it for a woman's."
Barry said nothing only looking at Wesker's reflection in the mirror, scowling darkly. Suddenly he felt the intruding fingers of Wesker and automatically cried out at the burst of pain that nearly overcame him.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" Wesker asked viciously as he made dug deep inside Barry, lewdly stroking his manhood for Barry to see, "I can tell you've never been rammed before. Big guy like you probably does all the ramming, huh?"
Barry only groaned as his eyes closed tight trying, in vain, to block out some form of pain.
"You know, it's best for someone like you to start of slow," Wesker replied as he pulled his fingers out of the trembling man, "Tight ass like that deserves special treatment." Wesker placed his right hand at the base of his penis and guided it toward Barry's unwilling anus. "But since we don't have a lot of time..." Wesker made a guttural groan as he pushed his way into Barry.
"No, please! Wesker, stop! STOP!" Barry cried out, finding the pain of this sudden, forceful entry too much to bear. His hands gripped the dresser in an attempt to brace himself.
"No..." Wesker managed to get out as he grunted with a final thrust of his hips. He placed his hands on Barry's hairy buttocks and began rapidly pumping into the man.
"Oh! OH!" Barry cried out as he felt the painful thrusts of Wesker penetrating him again and again, tearing him apart from within. But even worse than the pain was the fact that his own manhood was betraying him, rising from a thick red patch of pubic hair and already drooling semen from the engorged head, even as his ass was under attack.
"Open up, you dick!" Wesker yelled as he drove deeper into Barry, "I want it all! You hear me!?"
Barry cried out again when Wesker made an especially rough slam against his behind. He wished for death at this point, hoping that a gang of those monsters would come in and kill him and the bastard that was raping him. At this point, he felt he should rather die than to have to come to his wife and two daughters and tell them what he had been through. That he had basically sold his body, not unlike a prostitute. No matter that it was for an honorable cause. He just knew that his family would reject him.
And he wouldn't blame them.
"I'm coming!" Wesker suddenly exclaimed, "Oh, OH! Here it comes! Here it comes!"
And come it did as Barry felt tears streaming down his stubbly cheeks as he felt a warm sensation enter him. He could feel Wesker's massive manhood throbbing constantly inside of him until finally the blonde man pulled out with a grunt, smearing the excess of white semen over Barry's buttocks.
Wesker chuckled as he pulled his pants up over his softening penis and zipped them up. Sighing again, he sat down at the edge of the bed and looked at Barry who still stood bent over the dresser, his muscular tensed, his strong hands gripping the edge of the wooden surface until his knuckles had grown white.
"Turn around," Wesker said between pants.
Barry had been crying, his eyes closed as he tried to fight back the tears, his face contorted in a fit of anguish and rage. He did not want to listen to Wesker but he relented and slowly turned around, pulling his pants up in an attempt to hide his throbbing erection.
"Stop. I didn't tell you to pull your pants up," Wesker said. The blonde man stared at his colleague's partially nude body: a long penis jutting from a patch of reddish-brown pubes, hairy thighs, and a slightly portly, very hairy stomach.
Barry kept his eyes to his penis, desperately trying to will it to return to a flaccid state but to no avail.
"You know, men are like machines," Wesker said as he sat back a bit further on the bed, "When we feel something bad we react to it. The same goes for if we feel something good, which is what you obviously felt just now."
Barry said nothing.
"But it looks like you need a bit more help," Wesker said and suddenly popped up from the bed and stood face to face with Barry.
The two men stared at one another for a long time. "Make sure not to touch me," Wesker said and kneeled down toward Barry's crotch and, without taking off his sunglasses, engulfed all eight inches of Barry's manhood into his mouth.
"What the fuck!?" Barry said with a start but was suddenly finding himself in complete bliss as he begrudgingly accepted this action from Wesker. He could feel Wesker's warm mouth and tongue working his shaft, toying with the head and prominent veins. He felt the man's hands gently knead his testicles, pulling the sac and running through the reddish-brown pubes. And then Barry Burton, loving husband, father of two beautiful daughters and all-around heterosexual male, grunted deeply as his penis shot out jet after jet of semen into another man's mouth and reveled in the pleasure that the man's act had brought.
Wesker continued to work Barry's penis until it began to grow limp then the blonde man slid off the manhood and turning his head the other way, spit out the semen on the hardwood floor. Spitting one more time for good measure, Wesker sighed and stood up, walking over to the bed and sitting back down.
They stared at one another for a while.
Wesker finally asked with irritation, "Are you going to pull up your pants? We've got more to talk about."
Barry glared at Wesker one more time. The man did not know what to think. Wesker: a man that had brought so much pain and suffering to him had turned around and helped him in return. What was it all about? Was he planning something else? If so, what?
"Yeah...sure," Barry said slowly and bent to pull up his pants of his naked waist.
"Don't marinate too much over what I just did, Barry," Wesker said, "It was just a simple transaction between the both of us. You volunteer pleasure to me and I give it right back."
"I had no choice in the matter," Barry replied heatedly as he zipped up his zipper and buckled his belt.
"Of course you did," Wesker said as he smiled evilly, "You didn't have to give up your ass, granted if you actually made a bigger stink about it."
"But you said my family..." Barry protested. He was suddenly feeling very confused and even angry at himself for feeling this way.
"Well, I guess that makes you the best family man in the world, eh?" Wesker replied as he stood up, taking Barry's gun in his. Setting the safety back on the Magnum, he tossed the weapon back at Barry who easily caught it in his right hand. "They'd be so proud to know you'd do anything, and I mean anything, for them."
Barry's anger toward Wesker had returned after a moment's absence. "You bastard," Barry growled.
"Save it for later," Wesker said with more seriousness in his voice, " Now I want to talk about your role in this operation and how you're gonna get rid of Jill for me."
Barry attempted to say something else but Wesker went on talking about what he should do next. And deep down Barry knew that the matter would never be mentioned again.