5. Five
The next few hours passed in a blur of dusty highway and idle conversation as we sped towards our destination. The sun began its lazy descent towards the horizon, painting the sky in vivid streaks of orange and pink.
As dusk fell, the glowing lights of a little mom and pop motel appeared in the distance. Excitement hummed in my veins as I turned off the highway, gravel crunching beneath the tires as we pulled into the parking lot .
The motel's neon sign buzzed and flickered, casting an eerie glow over the nearly empty lot. I pulled the truck into a spot near the front office, killed the engine, and turned to Jamie with a sly grin.
“Wait here,” I said.
Jamie nodded, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He knew the game we were about to play all too well.
I sauntered into the cramped office, the bell above the door announcing my arrival with a tinny jingle. Behind the counter sat a portly, balding man engrossed in a tattered paperback. He looked up, annoyance flashing in his watery eyes.
“Need a room for the night,” I said, leaning an elbow on the chipped Formica countertop.
The man grunted and slid a guest book across to me. As I scrawled a fake name and address, I caught a glimpse of a key rack on the wall behind him. The key to the very last room dangled there, apart from the others. Perfect.
“That room at the end, it vacant?” I asked, pointing.
The man followed my finger and shrugged. “Guess so. Fifty bucks.”
I slid three wrinkled twenties across the counter. “Keep the change.”
The man handed me the key without another word, his eyes already drifting back to his book.
I returned to the truck, dangling the room key from my finger with a triumphant flourish. Jamie's eyes sparkled with anticipation. Jamie grabbed his backpack, and I slung my overnight bag over my shoulder before we made our way down to the end room.
The door creaked open to reveal a dingy space, dimly lit by a single, bare bulb. A lumpy mattress sagged in the center of the room. The comforter looked clean enough, but it probably hadn’t been updated in twenty years. The air hung thick with the musty odor of cigarette smoke and cheap disinfectant.
I tossed my pack onto the floor and turned to face Jamie as his lighter clicked. His willowy body was silhouetted against the grimy window, hips canted at an enticing angle. He lit his cigarette and flicked his long hair behind his shoulder before tipping his head back to expose his throat as he blew the smoke toward the ceiling.
I leaned back against the door, drinking in the sight of Jamie's lithe form. His shorts hugged his slim hips and his tank top rode up, exposing a tantalizing strip of pale skin. He took another long drag on his cigarette, hollowing his cheeks, then slowly exhaled. The smoke curled around his face, accentuating his sharp cheekbones and full, pouty lips.
“So,” Jamie purred, his voice low and seductive. He stubbed out his cigarette and slinked toward me, hips swaying. “What’s your poison?”
I stepped closer, reaching out to trail my fingers along his sharp jawline. “You know exactly what I want,” I growled, grabbing a fistful of his hair and jerking his head back roughly.
“You want it rough, baby?” Jamie let his hands roam over my chest. “That’s gonna cost you extra.”
I captured his wrists and pinned them above his head, shoving him back against the wall. “Let’s get one thing straight. I ain’t paying you a fucking dime. I’m gonna fuck that tight little hole of yours and then…”
A wicked grin spread across his face. “Ass, grass, or gas, baby. Ain’t nobody ride this for free.”
My free hand slid down his chest to grasp his hip hard enough to bruise. I leaned in close, my lips brushing his ear. “Keep talking back to me, and I’ll have to teach you a fucking lesson, boy. ”
Jamie shuddered, his breathing growing ragged. “Fuck yes. I mean. Oh, no, mister. Please don’t hurt me,” he crowed the last part in an over-exaggerated high voice.
“You better be more fucking convincing than that if you want to make it out of this alive, Jamie.”
Something dark flashed through his eyes, a mix of genuine fear and excitement, but I meant what I said. If he didn’t live up to expectations, I was going to end him here and now.
With a low growl, I captured his mouth in a brutal kiss, all teeth and tongue. He responded eagerly, kissing back just as fiercely. I bit down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood and he moaned into my mouth, the coppery taste mingling with the taste of his cigarettes.
I released his wrists, only to grab a fistful of his hair, wrenching his head to the side to expose his throat. My teeth and tongue worked over his neck, marking him.
Jamie whimpered and writhed beneath me, playing his role to perfection. “Please, no! I'll do anything, just don't hurt me!” He gazed up at me with wide, terrified eyes glistening with unshed tears.
I backhanded him across the face. “Shut up, whore! You'll take what I give you and like it.” Grabbing him by the throat, I slammed him back against the wall, his head cracking against the plaster. He let out a choked cry, genuine pain flashing across his face.
My grip tightened, cutting off his air supply as I leaned in close, our noses nearly touching. “Such a pretty little thing,” I cooed mockingly. “Gonna look even prettier choking on my cock and begging for your life.”
I released my hold, and he slumped forward, gasping and coughing. Tears streamed down his face, but I could see the bulge straining against his tight shorts. The little pain slut was getting off on this .
Fisting a hand in his hair, I dragged him towards the bed and threw him down face first. He scrambled to get away, but I was on him in an instant, pinning his wrists above his head. With my other hand, I yanked his shorts down to his knees.
“Stop!” Jamie sobbed, thrashing beneath me in a convincing show of fear and desperation.
I pressed my weight down on him, immobilizing his slender body beneath mine. With one hand, I fumbled with my belt, the clink of the buckle mingling with his pitiful whimpers.
“I told you to shut up,” I snarled, bringing my belt down hard across his exposed ass. He yelped in pain, his back arching beautifully. I let the belt fall again and again, relishing each cry I wrung from his throat, until his pale skin bloomed with angry red welts.
Tossing the belt aside, I grabbed his hips and flipped him over roughly. His tear-streaked face stared up at me, eyes bright with fear and lust. His hard cock twitched against his stomach, leaking beautifully.
“Please, I'll do anything,” he choked out between sobs. “Just don't kill me.”
“Oh, I'm not going to kill you yet, sweetheart,” I purred, trailing my fingers down his heaving chest. I circled a pert nipple before pinching it viciously, making him cry out. “I'm going to make you suffer first. Make you beg for death.”
Leaning down, I captured his mouth in another brutal kiss, swallowing his whimpers. I bit his already split lip savagely, fresh blood blooming on my tongue.
I grabbed a fistful of Jamie's hair and yanked his head back, forcing him to look up at me. With my other hand, I slowly unzipped my jeans, releasing my cock. Jamie's eyes went wide at the sight, his breath coming in short, panicked gasps .
“Get on your knees and open wide, boy,” I growled, shoving him off the bed. He scrambled to comply, kneeling at my feet.
I fished my hammer out of my backpack, the solid weight of the wooden handle fitting perfectly in my palm. Jamie eyed the hammer as I caressed the smooth metal head.
“Such a good little cocksucker,” I purred, trailing the cold steel along his jawline while he shuddered. “If you do a good job, maybe I'll only break a few of your bones instead of bashing your pretty face in.”
Jamie whimpered but obediently opened his mouth, his pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. I grabbed his hair and yanked him forward, forcing my cock deep into his throat. He gagged and choked around my length, but I held him in place, savoring the way his throat convulsed.
With my cock buried deep in Jamie's throat, I tightened my grip on his hair and started thrusting brutally, fucking his face with punishing force. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he choked and sputtered, drool and blood dripping down his chin. But like the pain slut he was, his own neglected cock twitched and leaked against his stomach.
“That's it, take it all like a good little whore,” I snarled, slamming into his throat. The head of my hammer dug into his hollowed cheek, cold steel against feverish skin.
Abruptly, I yanked him off my spit-slicked shaft. He gasped for air, coughing and retching. Before he could recover, I backhanded him viciously across the face, snapping his head to the side. A crimson handprint bloomed on his pale cheek.
He touched his cheek and glared at me, murder in his eyes. Fuck, he’d never been more enticing than he was in that moment, all rage and coiled violence.
“What’s the matter?” I ground out. “Too much for you? ”
He swallowed. “Did I fucking say it was too much?”
“If you can handle more, then get on the bed. Hands and knees. Now.” I ground out the words through clenched teeth.
Jamie rushed to obey, crawling onto the stained mattress on trembling limbs. I followed, prowling behind him like a predator stalking wounded prey. He flinched as I touched the cold metal head of the hammer against his ass cheek, then groaned when I slowly traced it over his hip.
Swallowing hard, I traced the hammer head down Jamie's spine, mesmerized by the way his supple skin pebbled with goosebumps in its wake. His lithe body trembled beneath my touch, every quivering muscle pulled taut with anticipation and dread.
I pressed the steel against his entrance, watching his hole flutter and clench. A wicked grin tugged at my lips as I imagined breaching him with the cold, unyielding metal, stretching him wide and making him scream. I pictured thrusting the handle deep into his guts, fucking him raw and bloody with the makeshift weapon until he was sobbing and broken.
For a moment, I was tempted to act on my twisted impulse. To brutalize him in a way he'd never forget, to ruin him for anyone else.
But even through the haze of sadistic lust, I knew I couldn't risk damaging him too badly. Not yet, anyway. I had special plans for my pretty, vicious boy.
I pulled the hammer away and tossed it back onto the bed. There would be time enough later to explore its potential. For now, I had other ways to make my toy suffer exquisitely.
I yanked Jamie's ass up higher, spreading his cheeks wide. I spit onto his twitching hole, watching it clench and flutter.
“Please, no...” Jamie whimpered, his body trembling. “ I've never...”
“Never had a real man?” I started working the spit in with my thumb, making him writhe.
“I’ve never had a man,” he lied, but it was all part of the act. Jamie was about as far from a virgin as I was from being a saint. Didn’t matter, though. I was into it.
I let out a cruel laugh, spreading his cheeks wider. “Well, ain't that sweet. A virgin sacrifice, just for me.”
I pressed the blunt head of my cock against his entrance, barely breaching the tight ring of muscle. Jamie tensed, a choked sob escaping his lips. I leaned over him, my chest pressed to his back, and sunk my teeth into his shoulder hard enough to leave a mark.
“Beg for it,” I hissed in his ear. “Beg me to tear your virgin ass apart with my big, thick cock.”
“Please,” he gasped, hands fisting in the ratty sheets. “Please fuck me. I need it. I need your cock splitting me open.”
With one brutal thrust, I buried myself balls deep in his tight heat. Jamie screamed, his back arching as I stretched and filled him. I started pounding into him mercilessly, the obscene slap of skin on skin mingling with his broken sobs.
Tears streamed down Jamie's face as I pistoned in and out of his abused hole with brutal, punishing thrusts. Each snap of my hips forced a broken cry from his raw throat.
“That's it, take it,” I snarled, digging my fingers into his slim hips.
Jamie only whimpered in response, reduced to a shaking, sobbing mess as I used his body for my pleasure. I could feel his tight muscles spasming around my cock, his body torn between pain and arousal.
Reaching underneath him, I wrapped my fingers around his weeping cock, squeezing almost cruelly. Jamie let out a choked moan, his hips bucking into my fist instinctively even as he tried to squirm away from the overwhelming sensations .
“No, please...” he gasped out between hitching sobs. “It's too much, I can't...”
“You can and you will,” I growled, stroking him in time with my relentless thrusts. “You're going to come on my cock like the pain slut you are. And then maybe, if you beg real pretty, I'll let you live.”
I punctuated my words with a particularly vicious snap of my hips, grinding into his abused prostate. Jamie howled, his entire body seizing up as his orgasm hit him. Tears streamed down Jamie's face as he came hard, cock pulsing in my merciless grip. His body spasmed and clenched around me, milking my cock as I thrust into him through his intense climax.
I snarled, slamming into him one final time. My own release hit me hard, and I exploded deep inside him with a guttural groan. Jamie whimpered as I flooded his insides, marking him as mine.
I collapsed on top of him, pinning his shaking body to the sweat-soaked sheets. We lay there for a long moment, panting harshly as the aftershocks rolled through us. When I finally pulled out of his abused hole, Jamie let out a pained whine at the sudden emptiness, but I silenced him with a rough kiss. I plundered his mouth, claiming him thoroughly, before pulling back to admire my handiwork.
He looked utterly debauched, face streaked with tears and blood, lips swollen and bruised. Crimson handprints marred the pale skin of his ass and thighs. Rivulets of my release trickled down his trembling legs. He was a broken, beautiful mess, and he was all mine.
I rolled off Jamie's shaking form and stretched out beside him, one hand possessively splayed across his lower back. He flinched at my touch but didn't dare pull away. Smart boy.
“You did so good, baby,” I purred, trailing my fingers up his spine to tangle in his sweat-damp hair. “Took everything I gave you like a perfect little pain slut. I knew you would. ”
Jamie let out a shuddering sob, his face still pressed into the musty pillows. I grabbed a fistful of his hair and wrenched his head back, forcing him to look at me with wide, tear-filled eyes.
“Thank me for fucking you,” I commanded, my voice low and dangerous. “Thank me for letting you live.”
“Th-thank you,” Jamie choked out, his split lips trembling. “Thank you for fucking me, for sparing my life. I'm so grateful, I'll do anything...”
His voice broke on a sob and I released my grip, letting his head thump back down. I smirked, satisfied with his total submission.
I sat up and reached for my discarded jeans, fishing out a pack of cigarettes from the pocket. I lit one and took a long drag, savoring the acrid burn of smoke in my lungs.
Jamie lay unmoving beside me, his narrow chest rising and falling rapidly with hitching breaths.
I looked down at Jamie's body form, taking in every lurid detail of his ravaged body with a sense of deep satisfaction. The angry red welts from my belt striped his pale skin, already darkening into what would become spectacular bruises. Smears of blood and spit painted his face, mingling with the drying trails of his tears. His swollen lips were split and bleeding, curved into a pout that looked equal parts pained and pleasured.
Between his legs, his tender hole was an absolute ruin, puffy and raw and leaking my seed. I couldn't resist reaching down to swipe my fingers through the mess, pushing the slick spend back inside him and making him whimper. He'd be deliciously sore tomorrow, unable to sit without wincing and remembering how thoroughly he'd been used.
Jamie's lashes fluttered, fresh tears clinging to them like morning dew as he blinked up at me blearily. There was something in his expression that gave me pause - a rawness that went beyond the physical. A flicker of genuine hurt in those glassy eyes.
I frowned, a tendril of worry piercing through my post-orgasmic haze. I'd played rough before, but never quite this intensely. At least, not with anyone I didn’t intend to kill. I'd gotten swept up in the scene, in the rush of power and Jamie's perfect responses. But perhaps I'd pushed him too far, been too brutal even for a pain slut like him.
I reached out tentatively, brushing sweat-damp strands of hair away from Jamie's face with awkward gentleness. “Hey, kid,” I said softly, trying to catch his gaze. “You okay? You know that was just pretend, right? I’m not actually going to hurt you.”
Jamie's eyes snapped up to meet mine, a spark of defiance chasing away the vulnerability I'd glimpsed. He jerked away from my touch, lips twisting into a scowl.
“I'm fine,” he bit out, pushing himself up on trembling arms. A pained grunt escaped him at the movement and he swayed slightly, but he stubbornly steadied himself. “Don't fucking baby me, Stu.”
I held up my hands in a placating gesture, taken aback by the sudden venom in his tone. “Easy, I was just checking in.”
Jamie scoffed, gingerly swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing on unsteady feet. The dim light played over his skin, highlighting every mark and bruise I'd left on his pale skin. He was a canvas of colorful violence, a walking testament to the brutality he'd endured at my hands.
And yet, even now, he held himself with a sort of defiant grace. Chin tilted up, shoulders squared despite the visible tremors wracking his slender frame. “I don't need you fawning over me like I'm a battered housewife,” Jamie spat. “I’m not one of your simpering victims.”
Jamie limped towards the grimy bathroom, his steps halting but determined. I watched the play of abused muscles beneath his mottled skin, admiring my brutal handiwork even as concern tugged at my conscience.
The bathroom door slammed shut with a resounding bang, rattling the thin walls. The sound of the shower sputtering to life followed, pipes groaning in protest. I sat frozen on the rumpled bed, struggling to reconcile the uneasy feeling in my gut with the dark satisfaction still thrumming through my veins.
Steam began to seep out from beneath the ill-fitting door, carrying with it the sharp scent of cheap soap. I imagined Jamie standing under the weak spray, wincing as the hot water sluiced over his abused flesh. Delicate hands gingerly tracing the marks I'd left, assessing the damage. Washing away the evidence of me.
The dingy room suddenly felt too small, the stale air suffocating. I pushed to my feet and paced to the window, shoving the tattered curtain aside. The motel's flickering neon sign painted the night in lurid shades of red and blue, the colors bleeding together like a fresh bruise. In the distance, the highway stretched out into the darkness, a black line unfurling endlessly into the unknown.
I stared out at the desolate parking lot and lit a cigarette. Jamie was right. He wasn’t a victim. He was like me. He understood me on a level that no one else did. He’d asked for this, hadn’t he? I was just doing what he wanted.
So what was this nagging guilty feeling in my gut for?