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He had left all the windows open. The summer breeze stirred the curtains
gently, as sweet as honeysuckle. Twilight had fallen in a haze of grape-coloured
softness, slowing, then fading away to dark. Alex stretched languidly, eyes
fixed on the shimmering night outside. The faint sounds of people in the
park across the street were interrupted every so often by a passing car.
There were small twitters of night birds in the trees, the whine of an occasional
mosquito. Alex smiled out at the perfect summer night.
He liked the silence in the flat. Cozy, unperturbed silence, so unlike last
year's tension-filled quiet. Evenings had become his own personal prayer
to that quiet. He grinned again. Alright, a seriously perverse sort of prayer
, but hell. God would just have to make do, wouldn't He?
He padded barefoot to the light switch in the newly-painted parlour, pausing
to admire the effect of all that dark blue, picked out with lighter trim.
Very pretty, slightly oppressive. He turned off all the lights, waiting
for his eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness. Then he flicked the other
switch and turned on the spotlights he had rigged in the loft.
Tiny beams of light crossed and re-crossed themselves in the parlour, a
weird mirror-image of what the loft had been a year back. Back when David
had gone manic with that bloody drill. Alex grinned again. He knew a trick
worth two of that, didn't he? After all, he'd won the game. Check and Mate.
Except for Juliet, and God knows, he'd tried to warn her. He shrugged expressively.
Homicidal greed was interesting in a flat-mate, but definitely not on his
list of attributes for a lover.
Alex walked into the direct centre of the room, slipping off his robe and
stretching out his arms and legs, a pale X, sharded by the white cascade
of lights. He started to laugh.
Several hours later, he had curled up on his bed, twisted in the sheets.
It was too hot to really sleep, but the feel of the linen was cooling and
that sweet, light breeze caressed his damp hair from the window. He dozed,
half-awake, half-asleep, drifting in a wonderful haze of hash, self-gratified
satiety, and a few too-many drinks. He didn't hear the door open, nor the
soft footfalls crossing the parlour, into the hallway, to his door.
The door banged open, the noise impossibly loud. He sat up with a shout
only to feel his hair being yanked as his face was buried in the pillows.
The blade against his throat was cold.
"Not a bloody sound or I'll cut you up but good." The voice was littl e
more than a hiss.
He struggled briefly as his wrists were captured, bound quickly and tightly
behind his back. His brain was shrieking, but he couldn't make a sound.
The rope was looped around his throat before being secured at his right
wrist. Any attempt to fight would only make the possibility of self-strangulation
very very real. He tried to turn his head, felt himself yanked upright before
a series of open-handed blows left him gasping. He fell forward against
his attacker awkwardly, tasting blood where his lip had split.
"Do exactly as I tell you and don't make any noise."
He nodded, still breathless, before his hair was seized once more and he
was pushed face-down into the pillows again. Every sound in the small room
was echoing with ear-splitting clarity: the soft fall of the other's clothing
hitting the floor, the slight clink of his belt. Suddenly, the summer air
was frigid and he was shivering. He didn't dare to move as he felt the shift
of weight on the bed and a warm hand moved across his back, up to ruffle
long hair tangled over his neck. More small sounds---a cap opening, skin
rubbing skin.
It happened without any warning. The other was arched over him, then plunging
inside. Alex was screaming into the pillow when one large hand circled his
neck, chafing the rope around it.
"I said quiet."
He struggled to make himself relax again the tearing pain, his breath coming
in harsh gasps. He managed to go limp and that helped somewhat. He felt
stuffed, filled beyond any capacity, helpless. Unbidden, the brutal eroticism
of it washed through his shocked mind. He choked, gagging at the thought,
but it returned, again and again, as the other's body began to slide with
sweat and the invading cock inside him kept pushing at some place that made
him twitch with desire. He couldn't possibly be aroused by this, but he
was and worse, he was helpless to stop it. It was as though he had lost
all control over his body and his mind.
Minutes stretched out, the only reality the sound of the bedsprings, the
huff of the other's breath at his ear, the opened heat of his ass. He felt
the other stiffen, the hot flood of his orgasm deep inside, the slow drip
of it between his legs as the softening cock was pulled out of him.
The breeze kicked up and made the hot wetness trailing down his thighs,
between his cheeks electric cold. He simply lay there, feeling everything
in a near-painful wave of sensation. There was a tug on the rope near his
shoulder blades.
"Get up."
Groggily, he swung his legs around, mentally noting the intensity of feeling
as his ass slid over the sheets. His eyes were closed, as though he didn
't wish to see. Then that choice, too, was taken from him, and he was blindfolded.
He was pulled to his feet by the hair, and stumbled down the hallway to
the bathroom.
The tile was cold beneath his feet. The wetness from his backside was running
freely down the back of his knees now. He was pushed forward until his shins
were against the tub.
"Get in and squat down." He nearly lost his balance but the other held him
up easily, even helped him to get his wobbling legs over the edge of the
tub . His right hand was untied and the soap pushed into it. The water was
running, beginning to pool around his feet.
"Clean up good. Inside and out."
Alex had begun to shake, the soap slipping out of fingers palsied with terror.
Rough hand worked over him. The soap was back, being rubbed against his
fingers. He was numb as he methodically washed himself, leaning heavily
back against the strong arm holding him steady.
"Go on. Inside. Now."
Swallowing a sob, he pushed one slippery finger inside himself, gasping
a little at the soreness. He heard the low hum of approval, felt the other's
hand moved to cover his own, tracing where his finger had disappeared, taking
hold of it and pushing it further in, then out, then in once more.
The spray of the water was a shock, not because it was cold---the water
was quite comfortable--but because of it's intensity against his overheated
flesh. The other had one hand looped in the rope around Alex's neck as he
moved the spray down to sluice off the soap. For a long moment, the spray
pounded against his genitals, then his anus. He was gripping the edge of
the tub with white-knuckled fingers.
Then the water was off and he was pulled up to his feet, lifted easily over
the tub and toweled off roughly. His right hand was retied and he was pulled
back to the bedroom and pushed back down to the sweat-damp sheets. There
was something oddly companionable about the silence. The blindfold was almost
a gift, making it easier for him to drift away from what was happening to
him.
As though the other could read his mind, it was pulled off and he was staring
into the darkness, his eyes wide and pale in the dim light. Before his eyes
could adjust and actually make out his attacker's face, he was pushed face-down,
once more. Then his ankles were bound tightly together.
Another long moment passed without a touch. He was still half-hard, his
cock trapped beneath him. He was completely unprepared for the touch of
the other's tongue at the base of his spine. Those big hands were warm agains
this cheeks, then pulled him open.
It was more erotic and infinitely more humiliating that the rape had been.
Somehow, that tongue, exploring every wrinkle and pucker of his anus was
more invasive and demanding than the other's cock had been. The tongue stabbed
past the clenching ring of muscle to taste him inside. His breath was coming
in shuddery gasps, his cock twitching against the sheets.
Just as suddenly, the tonguing stopped. He feet were pulled up, knees bent
and the tongue continued it's exploration, now working on his feet. He was
dizzy now, his breathing shallow. The arch of his instep was caressed so
softly, the play of hot saliva and cool air making his guts feel like tapioca.
Then the tongue was back between his cheeks. He crested his head into the
pillows, felt the burn of his blush, bit back a little moan of pleasure.
The velvet pressure of it against his tensed opening never stopped, even
when the blows began to rain over his thighs. Lightly, at first, a caress
of leather, mimicking the lapping tongue. Then his hips were pulled up,
forcing his weight onto his shoulders, pushing his ass high in the air.
Whatever whip was being used on him was fairly small, only a few slender
strips of leather. It stung across his lower back, wielded a little harder,
surely leaving small red streaks against the creamy expanse of his skin.
Each smal l hurt was licked and kissed away, only to be replaced with another,
harder blow.
Every so often, the tongue would return to his anus, it's strokes calculated
to make him melt in shame and passion, keeping him entirely passive.
He nearly screamed when his feet were pulled up and the lash branded fire
across the soles of his feet. His hips sank back down in trembling need,
grinding his hard cock into the sheets. Firmly, they were pulled back up,
the other's mouth locked to his hole once more, sucking at him, pointed
tongue piercing him. Another few blows raised fierce welts across his thighs,
then two more to his wounded feet. He was sobbing into the pillow, reduced
to mindlessness.
The tongue ran over the burning line of pain that crossed his instep and
he gasped. A finger pushed against his wet anus, circling the sensitive
skin, wriggling just inside as the tongue moved to the back of his knees.
He couldn't suppress soft cries now, as the finger twitched inside him,
making his head spin with stars. His hips were moving of their own accord.
Then hands and tongue were gone. He moaned, his whole body undulating as
much as it could. The air itself was a caress against the hot welts, against
his twitching, pulsing anus.
Something icy cold was poured into the crack of his ass, dripping downward
to chill him. Something else was being pushed into his hole. Then twisted,
and turned inside of him. Stars exploding behind his eyes, he felt the plug
filling him, holding him open inside. A finger traced a ring around it,
sliding a little inside, next to it. He was sobbing again. His right arm
was released and he was pulled over onto his back. A hand stayed beneath
him, between his bound legs, rocking the plug back and forth.
"Touch yourself. Come for me."
Tentatively, he trailed his right hand over to his aching cock. Beneath
him , the finger slid around his stuffed and sensitised anus. With a low
choke of a cry, he grabbed hold of his own cock and began to pump it shamelessly.
The other kept fingering and twisting the plug inside him, his other hand
toying with nipples as hard as bone. Alex could feel the orgasm building
from deep inside him, rising like a tide through his spine, threatening
to take off the top of his head. His balls tightened, sweat beginning to
sheen his face, nipples flushing darkly as the crushing tide overwhelmed
him and he came wit h a hoarse whimper.
The universe was still spiraling around him as he felt the ropes loosen
around his ankles, then his left wrist. There was a momentary sense of loss
before his eyes closed and he drifted towards sleep. He felt a soft kiss
pressed against the back of his neck.
"Thanks."
"mmmmmmm?"
"The tip. See ya next week."
"mmmmmhmmmmm."