Chapter 27 Mason #3
Then it occurred to me… Dreyven was getting older, his body worn down by a lifetime of vices. There was grey in his hair, the muscles he used to have were now mostly flab, and I saw a hint of perspiration on his upper lip as our eyes locked.
The moment between us was broken when Conyers grabbed my shoulder and dragged me back down into the chair.
“Siddown, fucker,” Conyers yelled.
I wasn’t a lightweight, but Conyers had to weigh fifty pounds more than I did. I knew fighting right now was pointless, so I sank back into the chair. I had to wait for my moment.
Dreyven’s eyes narrowed as he looked at me, his hands brushing across his front, his fingers straightening his jacket and tie.
“See, it’s outbursts like this that make me certain a little demonstration of my power over you is so necessary, Mason,” he said, shaking his head and sighing at me as if disappointed.
“Someone on that screen is having an ‘accident’, right now, Mason. And. It’s.
All. Your. Fault.” He said, stabbing me in the chest with his finger on each word.
Tears streamed down my face as I thought of Zem, in school. Or Lizzie. The Devereauxs. Oh god…
“Aww, he’s crying like a little bitch,” Conyers laughed, his voice scathing.
“Fucking him is even better than fucking a bitch.” Dreyven’s eyes took on a wicked gleam and he leaned forward.
“…and I’ve fucked a lot of bitches in my time.
Bill, you said you wanted to try out a piece of ass, some time.
His is about the best you’ll ever get a chance at.
What do you think, Mason? Should I make you my bitch again?
” Dreyven asked as he came around the desk and stood in front of me.
I didn’t bother responding, because I knew he planned to do it, regardless.
Had known it from the moment I heard him whisper my name.
He gestured to Conyers, who wrestled me out of the chair and slammed me forward onto the desk, my hands barely catching myself as I landed on the hard wood.
Dreyven laughed and held the gun to the back of my head and I froze.
I heard the sound of a zipper being pulled down and felt the first tug on my jeans. I tried to pull away from him, but Dreyven waved the gun in front of me again, and Conyers tapped the screen, the photos of my chosen family and friends still visible.
“Take a good look at that screen, Mason. Need we remind you?” He asked questioningly, his hand wrapped in my hair, pulling my head back painfully. I shook my head and closed my eyes.
I felt the cool air across my ass as I squeezed my eyes shut . Dreyven stroked his hands over my skin. Then pinched my buttocks painfully.
“You always were such a nice piece of ass, Mason,” he said almost lovingly. “Ricky and I used to have so much fun with you.”
I felt the tears slide across the bridge of my nose and begin to collect on the desk.
“I miss my Ricky boy. He always… Well, well… what do we have here?” Dreyven said, as he parted my ass cheeks to expose my hole. Humiliation shot through me because I knew what he was seeing. It was the scarred R from the brand Ricky had used on me.
“So, he got that far, did he?” Dreyven whispered in my ear, before forcing his cock inside of me. The pain was sharp and immediate, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out. I wasn’t going to let these fuckers have the satisfaction.
“Was he the last real man to fuck you, Mason? With an ass this tight, there’s no way you’ve been getting a regular fucking. Unless your little Devereaux buddy has a pencil dick? Is that it? Or have you been saving yourself for me all this time?” he asked as he pistoned into me.
I struggled not to make a sound, the pain taking me back to those three horrible days in Milwaukee. My fingers gripped the edge of the desk in a vain attempt to anchor myself.
For a long while I lay crumpled against the desk, Dreyven taking the chair I’d been sitting in after taking his turn. He watched as Conyers fucked me, too, keeping the gun trained on me the whole time, in case I had any thoughts of escape.
When they were done, pain was shooting through my body, and nausea gripped me. I hadn’t bottomed in years, hadn’t even played with toys, so I was in agony.
“Well, I certainly see now why you missed him so much,” said Conyers, as he rebuckled his belt. “He is better than a bitch.”
I tried to stand when he was done, grabbing blindly at my clothes, struggling to cover my nakedness as I felt the cum and other fluids soaking my underwear and jeans.
They hadn’t bothered with condoms and I was worried about catching an STD. I made a mental note to get tested again, if I lived through this.
The fact I could be making mental notes at a time like this made me realize I was in shock, but I couldn’t remember what you were supposed to do when you were in shock. Stay warm? Drink hot chocolate? I couldn’t stay warm, I was shivering.
The two men talked between themselves for a while, totally ignoring me, like a toy they were done playing with. Which, of course, I was. Until Dreyven finally turned his attention back to me as I finally got my pants zipped up. They both stood.
“So, Mason, what is it you’re going to do tomorrow?” he demanded
I struggled for a minute before I was able to speak.
“M-meet you at the address in Cleveland. Convince everyone I was leaving because I wanted to,” I got out hoarsely.
Dreyven nodded and smiled at me.
“Good boy! And what happens if you disobey me in even the slightest detail?”
I swallowed hard, but managed to whisper, “…you hurt them.”
He nodded at me and smiled evilly. “And you know I’ll do it, too.”
I nodded helplessly.
“Don’t forget this, Mason,” Dreyven said, standing behind me as he slid his arms around me and slid my shattered phone, lights still flashing, back into my jeans pocket. His hand slid against my flaccid cock in my jeans and I couldn’t repress a shudder as he stroked me through the thick material.
“Hmmm… Still don’t like sex, eh Mason?” he said, his eyes narrowing at my lack of response to his touch. It had always infuriated him that I had no response to him.
“Maybe you’d be more interested if we had your Devereaux friend here to play with, too?” He asked, his body crowding against my back, forcing me against the desk again.
“What was his name? Lee?” he asked Conyers, who nodded. Dreyven turned his head back toward me, his arms wrapped around me, the gun in one hand. I was ready to vomit at the stench of him. He smelled like cum, and blood and expensive cologne, all rolled into one.
“He was the one who dropped you off tonight, right?” he whispered in my ear. “Maybe I could arrange a little show for him, hmm? Let him watch while I fucked you? Should I, Mason? Fuck you in front of him? Then fuck him?” he asked, his voice thick in my ear.
“No!” I cried out, terror-spiked adrenaline hitting my bloodstream, my yell startling all of us.
Lee was one of the few genuinely good people I’d ever met in this world.
There was no way I was going to let these bastards get their hands on him.
Plus, if Dreyven ever found out Lee was the one who killed Ricky, there would be no saving him.
Anger like lava boiled and popped in my veins.
“You leave Lee alone, you son of a bitch,” I growled, letting my head fall forward. Then I straightened quickly and slammed my head backward, in the same move that Mama K had taught me the night before, catching Dreyven squarely on the nose.
The small amount of pain in the back of my head was worth it as Dreyven’s arms dropped free and the gun went tumbling.
“Fuck!” He yelled, grabbing for his nose, blood spurting everywhere. “You stupid fuck! You broke my nose! That’s two! Two less friends you’ve got, Mason!” Dreyven’s hands pressed against his face in a vain attempt to stem the blood that poured down his face and all over his expensive suit.
I took the momentary reprieve, shoving Dreyven at Conyers with all my might. I opened the office door and did the one thing I was good at. I ran.
I didn’t know where I went or even how long I ran.
I’d found an exit out of the building and my feet crunched across gravel.
I ran until I felt grass under my feet and tree branches slapped me.
The adrenaline in my blood made me fly, but eventually it began to wear off.
I heard them chasing me for a while, then finally heard Dreyven’s voice yelling into the darkness.
“Forget it Bill, I’m not running around in the dark all night. He won’t go far,” Dreyven yelled. “Mason! I know you can hear me, boy. Two o’clock in Cleveland, Mason! Don’t be late, or someone else on that screen is going to regret knowing you!”
I was huddled behind some bushes and had no real idea where I was, but I could hear Dreyven and Bill talking as they went back inside. A few minutes later I heard them leave.
I hid in the bushes and trees around the building for what felt like forever.
I knew that if I waited long enough, Lee would be back.
He would come for me. I had to have faith in that, although terror for his safety made me ill.
I almost vomited in fear as I sat there when I heard another soft set of footsteps approach.
“Mason?” I heard a whispered call and recognized Tobi’s voice. I tried to respond, to do something, but it seemed as if his voice was coming from a great distance and I was somehow disconnected from my body.
I hardly noticed it when Tobi started talking to me and eventually sat down next to me, wrapping his arms around me to try and warm me up.
It seemed like an eternity later when I saw a pair of headlights flash over the now-empty parking lot and I heard the sound of a car drive up.
I was shaking at this point, but it didn’t seem to matter.