Search Engine |
Random Story |
Thanks to Rifka and Perrine for the beta and the help.
Come to bed.
"Come to bed, bitch!"
Vern's voice echoes in Toby's head, drilling through his mind, cold and sharp and heavy with threat and he thinks he's going to puke -now. Here. But if he does Vern will make him lick the floor clean and Toby won't go through that again.
The silence hangs between them while Toby counts to ten before turning and moving to the bunk where Vern's sitting, waiting, eyes cold under heavy eyelids, his mouth twitched in a nasty smile while he looks Toby up and down.
"You know the drill, Beecher."
Beecher knows. He could say he doesn't, he could challenge Vern once more but he hasn't got any courage left for what will happen if he does, so he lets the strong hands push him down and tries to feel nothing, concentrates on the cold floor under his knees. He submits to the blunt fingers sliding through his hair, hurting his scalp, pulling his head back, doesn't even try to bite back a painful moan.
Vern laughs low in his throat.
"Ask nice, bitch," Vern says, a low feral growl and Toby closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, trying to keep the madness at bay.
"Please, may I suck you, sir?"
"Well, since you asked so nice, you have my permission to suck my cock." Vern mock, his fingers tightening their grip on Toby's hair.
Like an obedient slave Toby opens his mouth and lets the heavy cock invade him, fights the primitive reflex to gag and bite and spit and roll on the floor yelling; it won't do him any good. No good at all so he just lets everything go and waits until he can accommodate, feels the tip of Vern's cock against the back of his throat, and begins sucking in earnest, tears rolling down his face -just a reflex.
Toby knows what comes next. No matter how hard he tries, Vern won't come into his mouth; he'll push Toby away, drag him up on the bunk and shove his dick up Toby's ass, his hands a vice like grip on Toby's hips, keeping him still while he thrusts hard and fast...
"Keep still, bitch," Vern says when he squirms in pain. No lube; just spit and the hell if it's not a real raw fuck...
And Toby lets it happen. Again, and again, and again until... No! Not this time. It's not that he feels like a rebel tonight, it's just that he hurts too much, it's just that the border's blurred that usually keeps him quiet because even dying can't be so hard...
So he fights back.
I'm asleep, dreaming of warm meals and hot showers and clean clothes and no fucking lockdown, no fucking Oz. Las Vegas and lots of money and Toby.
Nice fucking dream.
I wake up to the sound of another Beecher nightmare, bed creaking, the mattress above me sagging, a low angry moan pouring endlessly down on me.
Yeah, all right, here we go again, I think.
I get up; give a look outside -fucking hacks playing cards upstairs don't give a damn about what happens down here as long as there's no noise, no blood, no trouble. You wanna rape your podmate, torture him, kill him, beat him into a pulp? That's okay, they won't give a fuck as long as you keep it quiet and mop the floor up afterwards. But force them to move down, enter the cell, and do their job? Then it'll be your sorry ass they'll use for a mop.
Not that the lazy bastards don't keep an eye on Toby and I. Consensual fucking must be ranked higher on their top list of what won't happen than, say, gang rape. Hacks' logic.
I rest a soothing hand on Toby's arm, stilling him, whispering "Wake up, Toby, come on, wake up; it's OK, you're OK."
Then all hell breaks loose.
I should know better. So many fucking nightmares, and I know who's in it. I know it's not me he's fighting; not any more. I know he's not even awake when he jumps down and pounces on me, the weight of his body throwing me down to the floor and my head hits the ground hard while I try to duck Toby's blows, roll on my side, jump to my feet, pull him up. We're locked in a tight embrace, swaying and stumbling across the pod like drunks. Like enemies. Like lovers.
I keep an eye on the hacks to make sure they don't see us and manage to shove Toby back against the wall in the shadows, shake him, slap him across the face -nothing personal here baby, just trying to wake you up.
"Come on, Toby, wake the fuck up!"
Eventually Toby sags against me, panting, eyes wide, life coming back into him and I can breathe again as he leans against me briefly, smelling of sweat and fear and something exclusively Toby -I push against him, rubbing my cheek against his damp hair.
"Are you okay?"
He nods against my face, his hair tickling me and steps back, looks at my face.
"Fuck," he says, trailing a finger along my bloody swollen lips "Did I do this?"
"Do you see anyone else in here besides the two of us?"
"I'm sorry. Didn't mean too."
"I guessed that."
"I was dreaming and..."
I shut him up, a hand against his lips. "I don't wanna know, Toby."
I bet you are; you're good at feeling sorry; wet smile, puppy dog eyes asking for forgiveness. It's just Just that your hands are still clenched and you're breathing too fast. What did he do to you in that dream? Fuck you raw? Beat you up?
Fuck Vern. I wish I'd killed him.
I draw Toby in a comforting embrace, my fingers massaging the nape of his neck lightly stroking, my arm around his waist holding him close, until I feel his breathing slow down. I have my mouth in his hair, he's sighing against my neck.
"You should've slept in my bunk," I say a moment later.
"Didn't want the hacks to find us."
"Motherfuckers are too busy playing cards up there. Come to bed with me."
"I'm sorry, Chris. This lockdown's driving me crazy."
I'm not sure you need a lockdown for that; you looked crazy enough to me from the beginning but I won't say that because I might have ulterior motives and I don't want to piss you off.
I just ruffle his hair.
"Ten days in a cage tend to do that. Stop beating yourself up, I'm OK. Come to bed."
He looks at me and shakes himself free of the last remnants of the dream, stretches, the sight of his body fuelling something inside me, lust burning like fire, coursing through my veins.
"Take your clothes off, your shirt's soaked," I say.
How many times did I do this? It's for real now, though and I can bask in the anticipation of what we'll be doing next.
Eventually I get him where I want him; naked, pressed against me, warm, hard and ready. I wrap my arms around him and kiss him -at least I know Vern didn't do that, never, so it's safe and I keep it on until I can't breathe, then run my mouth against his cheek, stubble scratching my lips. I bite his shoulder, bury my face in his armpits, nuzzle against his nipple and lick my path down his belly.
"Chris," he says "I'm not sure..."
I don't care. "I am," I say and he snorts.
"You have the most colossal ego."
"Yeah, and don't you just like love it, baby?"
I take him in my mouth, lick him, suck him, tease him, let go of him, lick lower, across his balls, the sensitive skin lower until I reach the cleft of his ass and push my tongue through the tight hole, desire pulsing in my brain, my body, blazing, painful and *urgent*.
I want you. Now, now, now.
"Stop! Stop it, Chris," he says, hissing, pushing me back, crawling away from me, dishevelled and much too hot to let go "keep it up, and it'll be over before we even began."
I grab his knees, pull him back to me, growling; I'm not sure I can wait any longer so I just stare at him and try to regain some control.
"What?" He asks.
"Trying to figure out the best way to make it really good. What do you want?"
"Anything. You. Inside me."
That's fine to me; I just need to hear it so I'm sure Vern's ghost won't be here between us. I get up and retrieve his shaving cream, stroke the foam on my cock and some more on him.
Then I work hard at not making everything end too soon, keeping myself from thrusting right home, making it sweet and slow, listening to Toby's shattered voice begging me for more.
"Fuck," he says when I thrust deeper, hitting the right spot "Harder, Chris."
He's facing me, his clear blue eyes shiny with lust, biting his lips, but I have other plans. I roll him over on his stomach, pull up his hips, push his shoulders down -and take him. He wanted it hard, so I make it as rough as I can, keeping him still, an arm across his shoulders, whispering dirty in his ear while I fuck him; not so different from the way Vern likes it after all, just -with feelings and I make sure he won't be able to sit comfortably tomorrow and that I'll be able to tease him all through the day until we roll on the floor, fighting for fun, then fucking again. I want to exhaust him, and me, keep the nightmares away and when he wants to touch himself, I grab his wrists in my hands.
"No way, baby. You'll have to manage without it."
"Of course you can."
Toby squirms and growls and writhes under me until I think he's gonna make me crazy; he's so good, so fucking tight and hot and every move he makes takes me deeper, pulls me harder inside him, until I feel him stiffen, the muscles of his back hardening under my arm; he turns his head to look at me, a surprised expression on his face and comes, hard. Just before I do and I don't think I would've been able to hold on for much longer.
"That was very good, Keller," he says later, resting in my arms, his head against my shoulder.
The pod smells of him and me and it makes me dizzy with happiness.
"Thank you; I aim to please."
The sound of Toby's soft laugh makes me want to kiss him again -he kisses back dreamily, and stretches against me.
"I'll keep an eye on the hacks," I say "just go to sleep."
He doesn't protest, gives me a drowsy smile and sinks into sleep. I arrange us as comfortably as the narrow bunk allows and just hold him, watch him sleep until dawn, storing up everything I can, building memories.
Because as fucking good as it is now, I know I'd better enjoy the moment... I'm not sure what tomorrow will bring.
Please send feedback to Aline.