Chapter 6 Emilio #2
Her hand lets go of my shoulder, but she slowly traces from my chest down to my cock.
Sickening shame makes me want to curl up when I realize I’m fucking hard.
Her laughter isn’t enough to deflate my hard-on, and fuck, I wonder what the hell was in that drug.
She squeezes me through my pants before letting go.
My skin fucking crawls, as I somehow become even hotter, and the need to fuck presses on my psyche.
The door slams closed, but I don’t look behind me to see if any of my captors have stayed to watch. Considering I can see the video camera in the corner, it doesn’t matter whether they’re here in person or not. What happens next will be there for everyone to see…
My poor Master. It’ll break him to see this, and he’s already broken.
I can’t imagine Daddy giving me any hugs after watching me destroy another person’s life.
The threads to my Owner may as well be cut as well.
With everything Hollis has gone through, there’s no way he’d want to touch me after this.
Fuck. If it was only my life at stake, it’d be an easy decision…
Of course, the bitch wouldn’t leave me with a way out.
I take a deep breath and walk forward, forcing my face not to show the shattering of my heart. When I reach the bed, I look at the man splayed out like a sacrifice—and that’s all he really is in this. A pawn in whatever fucked up game Cecily is playing.
He’s beautiful, or at least I think he could be, if it wasn’t for his tear-stained face. His body is still trembling from the sobs, and the restraints have dug into his wrists and ankles. I desperately want to let him go, to bundle him in the blanket and take him far away from here.
Fuck. I struggle against the curses that want to spew forward as I shrug off my jacket and strip my shirt off, tossing them to the side.
I slide off my pants and underwear, stepping out of them easily, since the fuckers already took my shoes.
Likely to prevent an escape if I did magically get loose.
But the bitch should know better, I’d walk over jagged glass to get away.
Although…will I have anywhere to go after this?
I shake my head, pushing the thought from my mind.
I can’t think about that right now. Or any of the ones I love.
They don’t belong here in this Hell. I tuck their faces and my memories inside my heart, holding them as close as I dare, because while I can’t let them go completely, at least not before I’m forced to, I can’t accept them being here either.
I stand at the edge of the bed alone—the monster of the story, the villain. The one who, after this, will not deserve to live. But isn’t it better to save two lives, even when I have to destroy my own?
“We’re waiting.”
I jump, but don’t look back at the voice. Seems at least one of the men stayed inside the room with me. Fuck, the passing thought that I might be able to fake this is ruined. Giving in, I kneel on the bed, struggling when the young man’s eyes flash to me, desperation pouring off him.
“Please. Please, don’t do this. I’ve…I’ve never done anything like this. I don’t even like men!”
I touch my heart, unable to bear this, but when the asshole behind me makes a disgruntled noise, I drop my hand onto the young man’s leg. As I stroke it gently, he jumps as much as he’s able to, which is barely at all with those brutal restraints.
“You’ll take me. You don’t have any other option,” I rasp out, trying to make it sound threatening, but knowing I fail. Fuck. I need to perform better, or he’ll end up dead anyway.
“I…I swear I haven’t done anything to deserve this,” he whimpers as he struggles, only hurting himself further.
I look around for lube, but there’s none. Of course, she’s that fucking sadistic. Breathing deeply, I try to pretend I’m Peter, my time with him branded onto my soul. Maybe if I can pretend to be the monster in my nightmares, it’ll make this easier.
Snip. Another thread to reality snaps. I embrace it, the floating feeling, even as the roar of desperate horniness rushes through me.
I suck a finger in my mouth, wetting it as much as possible before I line it up with his puckered hole. I slowly insert my finger before stretching out so I can take his soft cock in my mouth. His hissed breath is like salt in the open wounds I’m carrying, but I can’t stop what I’m doing.
I’m not sure what I hate most; the fact I’m going to have to rape him, or that I’m going to have to force him to enjoy it. I know how much that fucks with the head…
It takes a while, but I use every bit of my practice until his cock slowly hardens. His sobs mix with gasps. But fuck, he’s so tight. There's no way I’ll even get a second finger in.
I raise my head, popping off his cock, and meet his eyes, trying to reassure him. “You’ll enjoy this. You just need to relax and let me in. It’ll hurt worse if you don’t.”
“Fuck. You,” he hisses. “I’ll never enjoy this, you sick fuck!”
His words are arrows to my heart, and while I’d rather he hate me, it doesn’t make it easier.
I give the short laugh that I know Cecily expects, as I go back to my job.
This time, I remove my finger and I drop lower, grasping the man’s ass and pulling his cheeks apart.
I slowly lick around his hole, before dipping into the center.
“Oh shit,” he mutters, and a tear of my own slips down, even as I double my efforts.
I suck and lick, not letting up until I’m able to get my tongue inside. Fucking him with my tongue, he starts to make whimpering sounds, almost riding my face. I pull back, forcing myself to chuckle.
“See? Give in. I’ll make it good for you.”
I duck down, taking his cock into my mouth again, closing myself off to his curses as I insert two of my fingers into his ass, stretching him further. Thankfully, rimming has softened him up.
I raise my head and use more saliva on my fingers.
This time, I manage to get three inside him, searching for his prostate as I suck his dick even harder.
His sudden moan lets me know I hit it, and I spend time tapping the gland, forcing him to enjoy the ministrations.
When his legs tremble, I pull off and take my fingers out.
Glancing around, I search for a condom, but don’t see any. The need to sink into his hole is becoming unbearable, but I force myself off the bed and head toward the man leaning against the wall. His sneer of disgust doesn’t cool me off, it only increases the hatred poisoning my veins.
“Get back to what you’re supposed to be doing,” he snaps at me.
I clench my fingers into fists and shake my head. “Not without a condom.”
Cursing, he presses a finger by his ear. It must be an earpiece that allows him to communicate with the Queen Bitch. With a grunt of revulsion, he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a condom, tossing it at me. “There. But you make him come on your cock.”
I bite back a retort about how I’m surprised he even carries around a condom, considering how ugly he is. Although, given I can see that he’s got a hard-on of his own, it appears he’s a fucking sick man who gets off on this shit.
With shaking hands, I tear the wrapper and turn back toward the young man. Sheathing myself quickly, I inhale sharply, forcing myself to go forward with this. I say a quick prayer to a God I don’t believe in anymore, hoping this can be over quick.
Climbing back onto the bed, I murmur, “Relax. This will be over soon.”
I spit in my hand, trying to give some moisture to my cock, because I know without lube this will fucking hurt, no matter how much I've prepared him, especially since he’s a virgin.
I slowly enter him, shaking as I hold myself back from the increasing desire to fuck him hard.
I’m fighting whatever drug they forced inside my body, but it’s the only thing I can do, even if it feels like it’s tearing myself in two.
It’s slow moving, and I lick my hand so that I can start to jerk him off, trying to give him pleasure instead of only pain.
“Fuck, it hurts,” he cries as I bottom out. Hardening my heart, I don’t respond, not even managing the laugh I know Cecily expects. I give him as much time as I can manage, to get used to me, before withdrawing, only to thrust in again.
I groan at the pleasure igniting inside me, hating it even as I shudder at the feeling.
I adjust my angle, trying to hit his prostate as I move inside him.
My brain is spinning out of control as I try to focus on jerking him off, while concentrating on his prostate, and finding my own pleasure, so the heat inside me will finally cool.
I’m not sure how long I’m lost in this hell. The dichotomy of needing to come so bad that I think I’ll die if I don’t, mixed with the knowledge I’m taking something away that isn’t mine to take, keeps my sanity on the very edge. Soon I fear I’ll lose the battle.
My thrusts get rougher, and I can’t bite back a muttered apology at his curse, as I’m too lost to the toxin inside me. Hell, I hope it kills me right now.
Eventually, he starts to shake, and his curses turn to moans. Gritting my teeth, I manage to spit out, “That’s it. Come for me. Show me how much you love this. That you’re made for it. Like a fucking whore.”
His back bows as spurts of cum land on his chest. I jerk him frantically through his orgasm, and when he melts into the bed, I finally let go and fuck him hard. I need to come, to finish this, and my brain finally gives in and lets my body do what it wants, what it needs.
Thank fuck it doesn’t take long before I’m coming. I slump against him as I finish. With a deep breath, I pull out, wincing at the sight of his inflamed asshole. I take the condom off, tossing it to the side.
I stumble off the bed, unable to look at what I’ve done. I should. I should imprint it on my memory. To remind myself of the ugliness that's inside me. But like a coward, I flee. I can’t fucking stand it. Knowing I’ve ruined someone. FUCK.
When the man opens the door for me, I practically sprint out, making it only a few steps before I lean over and vomit. Even after my stomach is empty, I stand there, shaking through dry heaves. If only I could purge the stain on my soul…
Eventually, it passes, and I’m able to stand again. I can still hear the man crying, and for a moment, I think it’s nothing more than the whispers of my nightmarish memories, until I hear him shout, “Please! No! Don’t!”
There’s a gunshot and I jump, whirling around to rush into the room I just left.
I’m stopped by another hand restraining me.
Snarling, I manage to land a punch, but it’s ineffective as I’m thrown against the wall, my head hitting it with a loud thunk.
Fuck. Pain explodes inside me, but I ignore it.
I try to push off, but the other man is there, holding me. And worse…there’s the bitch again.
“You really don’t know how to follow instructions, do you?
” Her smug sneer is still there, and I try to lunge toward her, but it’s ineffective.
She rolls her eyes before quickly backhanding me.
Her engagement ring tears into my skin, and she glances down at it with a look of disgust. “And now I need to explain why there's blood on my jewelry…”
“You fucking bitch. I did what you said! There was no reason to kill him!” I’m trembling, whether from the aftereffects of the medication or the pure insanity of it all, I don’t know, or even care anymore.
Snorting, she bats my words away. “You don’t make demands. That was your consequence, and it's an innocent that has paid for your failure. Keep that in mind…”
She strolls away, the clipped sound of her heels making me shudder as I’m dragged back toward the cell I share with Roman.
I panic at the thought of seeing him, of having him hate me for becoming the same demon he fights in his nightmares.
I struggle against the man, and with a curse, he puts me in a chokehold.
I almost weep with joy as I start to lose consciousness.
Anything to find some peace. Anything so I don’t have to think about my crimson-stained soul, and the blackness that has leached into my heart.
Anything…anything to not face the destruction of everything I believed in, and all the people I loved…