“Well, I don’t know! Okay?” Len leaned over the small wooden table, beating his fist once against it for effect. His short brown hair fell a little out of place, bangs falling into his pale blue eyes. Eventually, he sank back down into his chair, which squeaked awkwardly under the small weight. He was short, making them an odd pair next to each other, but perhaps it was only because Jack was about twelve feet tall. Len’s frame was small all by itself, a kind of boyish figure that never slouched. Lately he’d gotten a mild tan, a nice gold spreading evenly under the collar and sleeves of his shirt. There were no unusual marks of any kind on his body, a stark contrast to Jack's.
Jack wouldn’t look at him. He sat quietly with his head in his hands and elbows on the table. Every once and awhile he shifted and his own chair squeaked. Under his hands, his dark eyes were closed, he was thinking, but could not find a resolution to their argument. Six months ago Len had made him promise that while they dated he would be the only man to sleep with him. That meant that Jack could not work, at least at his regular job. So they had both taken up looking for legitimate full-time jobs. Len had become a secretary at nice business on the better side of town. Jack had held many different jobs all around town, but he’d either gotten fired or had to quit because of his promise to Len.
Besides his promise to monogamy, Jack had also been talked into using only clean money. His apartment had been cheap to begin with, and he didn’t use up many resources, so Jack had acquired quiet a large stash of money left over each month from his ‘business’. Now, the problem was that rent was due and they had just used the last of their clean money on groceries. Len did not get his next paycheck for another week, and it alone would not be enough to pay for the rent and utilities. Jack was frustrated. He had so much money in the bank, they wouldn’t have to worry about anything for years, but he’d promised Len he wouldn’t touch it. Jack was not such an extremely loyal person, as it seemed, for he often broke promises, especially ones revolving around fidelity. Why making Len happy was so important to him, he could not figure out, because normally he was a terrible coward and survivalist. To make matters worse, there were rumors in the papers of a mysterious scientist returning to work in Esthar after nearly twelve years of hiatus. It gave everyone a bad feeling, but Jack most of all. There were secrets he held from the Neo Sorceress War, which he did not wish to be carried back into his life. Things were quiet now, so peaceful and…
“Why won’t you even say anything? This is something we have to deal with right now!” Len’s voice cracked in the air. He sounded so fragile, like his morals were tearing him one way, while the harsh reality of city-life was ripping him in another.
“I was thinking, that’s all. I didn’t mean to make you so upset.” Jack sighed deeply and put down his hands. He had lived in the city much longer than his lover had. He looked at Len with deep, questioning eyes. “Do you know the kind of person my landlord is?”
Len looked uncomfortable for a moment, shifting in his seat, and casting his eyes down. He didn’t appear to want to acknowledge the lecherous man out loud. “I know. He came up to me yesterday and said some awful things. I didn’t think you needed to know about it.”
“He did the same thing to me today, when I was coming back from the store. That guy has been propositioning me from the first time I went into his ugly little office, and now we’re giving him a perfect opportunity to manipulate us into accepting.” Jack looked to the table also; one hand came up and tucked a piece of hair behind his ear. “I told him I would ask you, and that we’d think about it.”
“You did what?!” Len was out of his seat again, halfway across the table, looking ready to punch Jack for what he might’ve doomed them to.
“He didn’t say he wanted to outright fuck me this time, just that he wanted to watch us. If I hadn’t told him maybe, we would be evicted by next week. Everyone on this side of town is like that, though; it’s almost better, now we have time to think. Len, you’re going to have to decide which moral you want to give up first. I can either pay him with the money you don’t want me to use, or we can have a slimy little punk jacking off while he watches us fuck on a table.” Jack’s red irises shone with indifference.
Len turned around and leaned against the table, crossing his arms over his T-shirt, making his mouth into a thin line. “…On a table?”
It was this that perhaps made Jack explode, rising from his seat and glaring at Len’s back. “Yes, on a table! Just like a little stage for doggiestyle. Could you think of anything more perfect? Which is it gonna be, Len? I’m letting you decide, but you have to give me an answer, that little shit will not wait long.”
“God…” Len took his head into his hands, sinking back into his chair. “There has to be a better way.”
--
The next morning, Len sat at the same table reading over the paper before he had to leave for work. Jack was still in the shower, and they were not speaking. One of the headlines on the second page caught his attention, and as he read the article he became increasingly entrapped by it. The name of the new scientist in Esthar had been released, Dr. Brad Skal. Jack had never spoken of his father, and Len had never asked; in fact, Len knew so little about the man, that he wondered if this guy with the same last name could be him. The man was said to be very important to the government and no reason or specific was given as to why, but it was clear from the article that he was well paid for whatever it was that he did. Len was sure he had found a way out of their financial upset.
“Jack?” He called into the bathroom with a note of excitement. “Jack, what’s your father’s name?”
Immediately appearing in the doorway with a towel around his waist, Jack looked unhappy about the subject already. “Why?”
Len tentatively held up the article to him. As Jack took it, his eyes lingered on him for a minute like he was afraid to look at it. His eyes grew wider and wider as he moved over the words, and just as it appeared he would say something amazing, he simply threw it in the trash. “Nope, that’s not him.”
Not convinced, Len followed him to the bedroom after retrieving the article. “Are you sure? Don’t you even want to go and see?”
“Yes, I’m sure, and no I don’t want to go see.” Jack stepped into his boxers and hung the towel over a drying rack. He began to braid his hair in its traditional style.
“But what if it is? I’m sure he would help us. There’s no father in the world who would want to see their son in such a situation.” Len thought for a moment, planning things way too far ahead. “Are you two on bad terms because you’re gay? There’s lots of ways we can get around that, you know.”
Jack turned on him, right in his face; he took the paper from Len’s hands and tore it to shreds. “You are not getting it, are you? Even if that were my father, there is no way I would go to him for money. You don’t want me to be a whore, then don’t make me see my father. I’m surprised the old fart is still kicking, and if it were up to me he’d be six feet under.” Once again, Jack threw the article in the trash. “Aren’t you late for work?”
Having lost track of time, Len was startled into realizing that Jack was right. He squeaked and grabbed his briefcase, running for the door. “At least think about it, okay?”
Once the door shut, Jack collapsed back onto the bed and closed his eyes. The devil had come back. His phone rang, pulling him from his short reverie. He answered it cautiously, expecting to have to tell his landlord that he accepted. “Hello?”
The other end was quiet for a few seconds before a deep male voice spoke. “Hello, Jack.”
Speak of the devil… “…What do you want? And if you say what I think you’re about to, I’ll just hang up and leave.”
The voice laughed good-naturedly. “Come now, Jack, I thought we resolved that. Did you see this morning’s paper?”
“Unfortunately. Now what do you want, you sick fuck?” Jack held the phone cradle on his lap, staring at it with hatred.
“Really now, Jack, let’s not start off this way. You helped me back from a place I was sure I would die in. I want to make things up to you.” Brad smiled into the phone, barely phased by his son’s caustic attitude.
“I don’t want to start off at all. I wish you had died there.” Jack moved to hang up, but his father’s laughter made him hesitate a moment too long.
“How is your money situation, boy?”
Jack brought the receiver back up to his ear. “…What?”
“How is your little boyfriend’s job going? You had better be ready to get down on your knees when he gets home today; he’ll need it. You poor children, working so hard at such menial jobs, only to have one little phone call from one important person ruin it. Tell me something, Jack, why is it that you have so much money, and yet you don’t pay you’re rent? Did you think I was your landlord calling to tell you to put out or get out?”
There was a loud knock on the door, and the man his father had just mentioned yelled from the other side. “Damn it, Skal, you had better fork over either your ass or some cash right now! I know you got money, you’re just puttin’ me out, here!”
The plastic cradle cracked in Jack’s hand. “…What have you done?”
Brad Skal laughed louder into the phone. “Maybe you should get the door, first, hmm?”
“Shit.” Jack hung up the phone and went to the door. He opened it to a very angry and red-faced young man. “Yes, Blain?”
The man was a little older than Jack was, about twenty-five, and had inherited the building from his father. He liked to swing his weight around, even if he was as skinny as a heroine addict. “You fuckin’ with me?”
Jack leaned against the doorframe, wishing he had more clothes on in the chilly morning air. “I’m sorry?”
“I just got this call from someone claimin’ to be your old man, tellin’ me you got tons a’ cash. Now you gonna tell me that you can’t make rent? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted me to resort to more threatin’ means. Now, you’re a good kid, Jack, I don’t want to see you or you’re faggot boyfriend out on the street, so I’m willing to come to a compromise.” Blain shouldered his way through the door, his eyes going up and down Jack’s body. He shut the door behind him.
Jack didn’t really know what to do, faced by several horrible facts at once. He wished desperately that he were not alone. Last night Len and he had decided that they would face this together, but right now Jack feared for his promises. “You’re right.” He said, ready to stall. “I have to admit that you’ve got us. The money I have isn’t mine, though, it’s in a trust from my father and I can’t have any of it until I turn twenty-five. I’ve only been able to pay you so far by turning tricks, but… Well, Len gets so uptight about it, even if we’re starving. So, you’re generosity is greatly apprecia-“
Blain pulled him down for a long, sloppy kiss. Jack could’ve sworn he would have rug burn from the man’s stubbly chin and cigarette breath from his habit. He didn’t want to offend him, that could be very bad, but he also couldn’t remember a more unpleasant encounter where his body became currency. He placed his hands on Blain’s shoulders and held him there as he pulled away. Now only part of Blain’s face was red, and Jack got the feeling he’d just kissed every other prostitute in town. It made him shudder and back away a few steps. He had to find a way to stall, there was just no way he wanted to get any closer with this person.
“Unfortunately, Len’s at work right now. So, I can call you when he gets home…” Jack continued backing up until he felt the table against his spine. Blain seemed intent on advancing.
“You didn’t have anything to do today, did you?” He asked, his diction better now that he was calm. “I didn’t have anything to do, either, you see, so there’s no reason we shouldn’t spend this time together. Doesn’t that make sense?” His eyes wandered a little more over the details of Jack's mostly unclothed body. "Those sure are some weird piercings and stuff, I'd like to get a better view of that tattoo on your back."
“I… uh, was going to go job hunting again today, actually.” Jack was nervous in the face of debt payment. He was lying badly, and it was probably very obvious. Really, he’d given up looking for jobs on Mondays, since that seemed to be when the managers received stock and were most busy, so Fridays were the best to go out on.
“Well, since you’ll actually be earning something today, I think it’d be best if you stayed right here, hmm?” He came closer to Jack, pushing him back on the table, his rough hands running over Jack’s pale chest, playing with the silver rings through his nipples.
“D-Didn’t we agree on just watching?” Jack leaned farther back, until he was flat against the wood with Blain leaning on him.
“Mmmm hmmm…” Suddenly Blain stepped back, picking up Jack’s hand and placing something in it.
Upon inspection it turned out to be a tube of lubricant, the expensive kind, flavored and edible. This tube was raspberry. Jack swallowed and looked from it to the man who happened to be pulling a chair around in between Jack’s legs and settling into it comfortably. Jack pulled his hips up so that they were resting on the table, his ankles crossed in a ladylike manner. He glanced to Blain, wishing he were not about to hear the next sentence.
“I came here to watch, so get on with it.” He unzipped his dirty pair of jeans and pulled his erection out, stroking it serenely.
Tears nearly forming in his eyes, Jack nodded and grabbed the legs of his boxers, lifting his hips and pulling them down. He couldn’t think himself into getting hard; it just wasn’t possible as long as his eyes were open. Unscrewing the cap to the tube slowly and squeezing some of the greasy substance onto his fingers, Jack spread his legs and placed his heals up on the edge of the table where he sat. It was chilly, even if it was still just fall, and goose bumps rose on his legs and thighs. He watched Blain lick his lips and ease back into the chair, perhaps stroking a bit faster.
The lubricant was cold as he reached down and applied it. Shutting his eyes, which were starting to leak tears, he pressed two fingers at once into his body. They went in up to the second knuckle, and then Jack had to bring his hand down lower to push them in up to the third. It felt good, sending pleasant ripples up and down his back, but if he opened his eyes there was the horrible reminder of the situation. Once, when he was in a very deep pit of self-loathing, Jack had taken a job in the back of a strip club where the customer paid to see him put any one of ten of their choices of odd items into himself. In that job, though, there had been a one-way mirror, so he didn’t have to see the man jacking off to his display. He spread his fingers, making them stretch him open for Blain to see.
One look down and Jack could tell it wasn’t going to be enough. The man was probably used to seeing prostitutes do anything for his money, and he had a feeling he was being looked at with the same expectancy. Jack was nervous, he didn’t like the whole situation, and being this vulnerable was not helping. Blain’s eyes narrowed and he stopped touching himself. He was debating something in his head, something devious, and it was just as clear as if he’d said it aloud.
“Boy, we could settle this easier if you’d just let me in between those pretty long legs of yours. We could be done with all of this before lunch. Why don’t you just walk me to the bedroom?” Blain stood, pants still open, threatening to fall down to his ankles and expose more unshaven skin.
Jack shook his head, folding his legs together again and swinging his ankles like a child. “No. I promised. It’s not so much to me, but Len…”
Blain walked over to Jack and picked him up, carrying him bridal-style to the bedroom and shutting the door with his foot. He dropped Jack on the bed, rolling him off of his arms so that he landed face down in the unmade sheets. He stood next to the bed, pulling a gun from the back of his jeans that Jack had somehow missed when he’d barged in. “Then, we’ll make it look like you didn’t have a choice.” Blain muttered, pointing the gun at Jack.
Jack’s eyes were large and helpless; his mouth set in a worried frown. He did not like where this was headed at all. He watched over his shoulder as Blain reached down and grabbed one of Len’s belts from the floor, testing its length and buckle. Blain set both the gun and belt down, kneeling on the bed behind Jack. To make it convincing, he grabbed Jack by the neck, gripping hard to leave intentional bruises. Jack flinched but let his body be manipulated freely by this less-than-desirable man.
“You don’t owe me so much as this would pay off, so you don’t need to give me nothin’ next month but a smack at your ass.” Blain picked up his gun and pistol-whipped him across the face with it, using maybe a little too much force. He set it back down to work on Jack’s bonds.
Jack nodded, licking his bleeding lip and let his head hang back down; there was little response from the violence, because even after years of rehabilitation he was still used to it. He didn’t like to talk in the process of it, and didn’t like it when others tried to make conversation, so he did his best to discourage dialogue. His neck was let go, and arms pulled behind his back. Careful of the delicate corset-like lacing and piercing, his wrists were bound together side by side. It made his shoulder blades press against each other, painful only in a case other than his, all of his joints being overly flexible. He was rolled over onto his back, and his knees were brought up to his chest and held apart. Jack let his head rest to the side, having no desire to watch his own deflowering for an innumerable time.
Blain pulled his jeans down to his knees and took the lube from earlier, slathering it over his penis. He picked up his gun again and pointed it at Jack’s stomach. With his free hand he guided himself between his victim’s legs, until he was resting right against the spot. Jack made a small, shaky, inhalation of pain as he penetrated him. Then Jack was quiet, tears running down his face every few minutes, but clamping his mouth shut. Blain was leaning in, pounding deep, and without reservation for the prize desired. He partook of Jack’s body slowly at first, excited and patient, then more and more quickly, pushing the sheets off the bed in his frenzy. He panted loudly with exertion, climbing to a plateau, evening out, and climbing to faster paces still. The bed screamed in its old frame, making the most noise of all.
At that moment, the door handle turned and Len walked in the front door, setting down his things and mumbling about leaving the door unlocked. He had not noticed the sounds coming from the other room yet, apparently very upset over something. Eventually it seemed to dawn on him that things were misplaced and a sense of the askew situation settled over his mind. He moved around the table, discovering Jack’s discarded boxers, and the position of the chair. The cap to the lube still sat on the table and his name was being called softly from the bedroom, accompanied by a racket of squeaking bedsprings. It made him fear the ultimate worse situation, which, upon opening the bedroom door was proven. He stopped and stared, just peeking his head through the cracked opening at Jack being held down by Blain. Jack wasn’t calling for him anymore, Blain’s hand was over his mouth. He was looking at him in the doorway, pleading with his eyes for help and his crying was a muffled sound as it came out. Len followed Blain’s other arm down, and to his horror found it gripping a pistol pressed against Jack’s abdomen.
Unsure of what to do at all, Len leaned against the doorway, motionless as if incapable. “Jack…” He whispered, not knowing it had come from him at all. It was a small and broken sound, followed by a clap as he moved his hand up to hover over his mouth in revulsion of the situation.
Somewhere through this Blain’s attention was drawn and he turned to also look at him. The man smiled with menace and slowed down his fucking to speak in uninterrupted sentences. “Don’t look so sad, shy boy. It’s not like I’m the first to get here, just the most recent.” Upon seeing the reminder resolve on Len’s unhappy face, he grinned widely and leaned over to lick Jack’s abused cheek. “Did you think you were going to be able to keep him all to yourself? That’s not how my mother taught me, she said I should share my toys.”
Len choked and crouched down to the floor, hand still hanging over his mouth. “Share some fucking mercy then!” He sobbed once, then inhaled trying to keep it all in.
Blain huffed in irritation, leaned way back, let go of Jack’s mouth, and held him by one thigh. The position showed in graphic detail the act transpiring. “You take so much for granted. He’s not dead yet, and probably won’t be for a long time. I didn’t just paint my dick with blood, either.” He turned back to look at Jack’s face. “…You should feel how gentle I’ve been…”
Jack shook his head vehemently at Blain, hoarsely wheezing protests. “Not him… Please, don’t take…” He trailed off into a coughing fit that left him disoriented and sore.
Blain’s eyes flicked closed and he moved a little harder as each of Jack’s coughs caused spasms through his body, reflecting on the part of him that closed around Blain’s penis. He moved his position again, picking Jack up with his free arm and cradling him against his chest. Blain sat back, pulling Jack with him and posturing him on his lap. He grunted barbarically, loving the loud slapping sounds that came from their connecting bodies.
Len seemed to be breaking down, curling up into himself and crying, barely able to watch through his fingers cupped over his face. “Please stop, Blain! Please, please, please… just let him go…” he pleaded.
Blain at first didn’t respond, still bouncing Jack like a helpless rag doll, then he opened his eyes again and stared quietly at Len. He spoke in conspiring tones, whispering in Jack’s ear as the man watched blankly over his shoulder into the bathroom. “Well, now I did say I would share, didn’t I? Some people just can’t take a hint. Wouldn’t you just love it, Jack, if he were fucking you right now? Hmmm? Can’t you just imagine him as deep in as I am, rocking you gently into the mattress?”
Jack said nothing, he did not move in reply or make any such gesture, but made his whole body limp as though he’d passed out. His head was resting on Blain’s shoulder so that Len couldn’t view his face. He couldn’t see him, but his expression of horror was loud throughout the room.
Len wiped the tears off of his face with the heal of his palm and stood up. He raked a hand through his hair and stared to unbutton his shirt and slip off his shoes and socks. Blain was laughing quietly in the background. He took off his pants and briefs, piling all of his clothes next to the door, and went to the bed. Blain begrudgingly stopped and handed him the tube of lubricant, gesturing that he should move around behind Jack. When Len had readied his penis, working it up enough by watching Jack's muscles twitch and tense tenderly up his back and down his thighs, he braced Jack’s hips and scooted closer to Blain, their knees touching. He hooked one arm around Jack’s stomach, just below where the gun was held, and squeezed his dick in alongside Blain’s. He met with slight resistance at first, but after the head was past he slid in quickly.
Jack cried out, a long, high whine that was separated with gasps for air. If he panted it made the illusion that the pain was lessening, but nothing could mask the alien feeling of being split in two. He leaned back on Len, trying more to support his weight between them. He began chanting Len’s name again, a strained whisper as if a plea to God. “Len… Len…”
Spurred into motion, Blain pulled himself closer, placing one knee between Len’s and the other outside of them. He thrust experimentally with this added stimulation, moaning with real pleasure as his cock rubbed against Len’s and was encased at the same time by Jack’s body. He placed the gun down behind him, now hugging both men together as he thrust faster with excitement. Len was lost in mixed emotions, torn between enjoyment and guilt. Jack’s sounds urged him to fuck him back and move with the set rhythm, but the small shudders through his lover’s body made him hesitate. He wanted to be the only one inside of Jack, alone with his ecstasy. He began thrusting as well, but with a different motive. It gradually pushed Jack forward into a prostrate position, as Len began undoing the belt around his wrists. His concentration was very flawed, and he found himself unable to dislike the building bliss. Len’s fingers faltered one last time and the belt came off of Jack’s arms, letting them relax and keep him up.
Blain had leaned back so far that he was uncomfortably laying on his back and the gun. He irritably reached beneath him and threw it to his side. He seemed far more intent on the task at hand than the security of his hostage. Now he moved his hands only to Jack’s back, gripping the man braced above him. He moaned, turned on more by the fact that he’d lost control and was now just having animalistic sex.
Jack was not so distracted, though. Still crying and suffering intense pain, he had a clear perspective of the situation. Waiting until Blain closed his eyes, he raised his fist high to strike him in the face, but Len caught his pierced arm.
“Wait,” He whispered into Jack’s ear, nibbling on it with his lips and teeth. He moaned softly and unrestrained. “Please just a little longer, Jack, I’m so close to it. I’m almost there.”
Jack was unable to resist the simple request of his lover; no matter how much hate he harbored for his rapist. He let his body be guided by the fluid motions he was pulled between, and two anxious feelings settled within him, fulfillment and disgust. Here he was made to stare at the face of one of his least favorite people, as the man was lost completely in Jack’s undoing, and at the same time, felt his own cock press pleasantly against Blain’s stomach. He hadn’t really been aware that he had gotten hard at all. There was something familiar in him that made him worry; a pressure that rarely presented itself and almost never in such a situation as with more than one participant.
Suddenly his attention was pulled back as Blain arched up off the bed, his legs shaking but hips stilled, opening his mouth in a long silent 'O'. His muscles jumped two or three times before he began to relax with the release of his fluids. The first few spurts coating Jack's insides, but as Blain sunk back down to the bed, his dick pulled free from Len's calculated thrusts and Jack's body.
Len had his eyes scrunched closed and both his arms wrapped around Jack's torso, his breathing was in short puffs of force so that with his head tilted down it blew into his sweat-dampened bangs. He had lost track of the plan to kill Blain, looking now only to killing his thirst. Jack let out his breath in relief as Blain became only a pattern on the sheets, and concentrated on Len's face pressed against his back. It was just as Blain had predicted, Len deep in him, rocking him gently to the mattress. But the feeling was bittersweet, his lover's member slicked excessively with cum that was not his own. Jack raised his head to look back at him, but instead his eyes caught their shadow. Jack half-kneeling, carrying this other entity on his back, and for a moment from a passing cloud it appeared as though his sketched wings were unfolded and spread open like his body.
The experience passed as Len sat up, pounding hard against Jack's ass and drawing more blood. Though Jack cried out a little, Len came into the open wounds, never spilling a drop of what mixed into pink goo. Black washed into his vision and debilitated his movement thereafter. When Len regained his sight, Jack was pulling himself from between the two men and walking awkwardly to the bathroom.
Blain sighed contentedly and sat up, his semen dripping down Jack and Len’s thighs, also pooling on his own stomach. He didn’t seem to notice Len’s hateful glare, only pulling his jeans back up and tucking himself back in. He wiped what was on his belly off on his shirt like it was only water, then got up and left, leaving the door open and his gun on the floor. Another tenant passed by and exclaimed at the site, scolding Blain for his terrible misconduct as a tenant-housing director.
Len sighed wearily and got up after him to shut the door, dragging himself into the bathroom next to Jack. “Are you alright?” He asked, out of breath from the entire adventure.
Jack nodded, paused and shook his head. “I’m sorry, this was a disaster, he wasn’t even supposed to be near us.” He winced and shifted from one leg to the other, looking rather uncomfortable as he leaned against the sink. He sighed again and stepped into the shower, giving Len a look that asked to leave him alone.
Taking the hint, Len bowed out of the room and went to change the sheets on the bed. What he did not know was that Jack was shamefully finishing under a hot stream of water.
--
That night, Jack lay face down in the pillows on his bed, quietly relaxed and listening to Len talk idly. His lover’s hands moved in large deep circles over the muscles on his back, they caressed his tattoo, and down until his thighs, working the tensed and stressed flesh loose again. Every now and then his lotion-coated fingers would slip down his ass and briefly penetrate him. Jack’s eyes were only half open and his attention wandered a little to the phone call he’d received before everything went to shit that morning. “So, you never asked me why I got home so early today.”
“Oh. Why’d you get home so early today, babe?” Jack’s words came out muffled. He already knew the answer, but if Len would just keep doing that with his hands, Jack would play along to anything.
“I was fired. As soon as I walked in, my boss threw me a pink paper airplane and said, ‘Get your fucking gay ass out of here!’ The whole office heard, and I didn’t even really want to ask if that was the reason that he was firing me. I just left. The funny thing is, I don’t know how he found out-“ The phone rang, interrupting Len. Jack groaned and shook his head at the phone. “Oh no, I’m not getting it this time!”
“Okay, okay, but don’t let me forget what I was saying.” Len reached over Jack’s body to the night stand and picked up the receiver, noting that the phone was slightly damaged. “Hello?” He said cheerfully. Jack had no idea how he kept it up. There was a pause and Len’s face went a little slack, he got off the bed and walked around Jack so that he could sit up properly on the edge of it.
“Who is it?” Jack crawled up behind him and rested his chin on Len’s thigh. A small unreasonable fear crept into the back of his mind.
Len ran his fingers through Jack’s loose hair, but didn’t answer him. He nodded to the other end, pointlessly. “No, not at all, I was awake. ...Okay, I’d like that. Sure, I’m free anytime tomorrow.”As he listened to the speaker at the other end, he opened a small, ornate box that he’d picked up from under the bed. Before removing the contents, he pulled away from Jack and walked back around the bed with the box in his hand and the cordless perched between his ear and shoulder.
“Hey, hey, who is it, Len?” Jack made puppy eyes up at his lover who waved him off. Len walked into the kitchen so that Jack couldn’t hear him. The sound of the refrigerator opening didn’t escape him though. He heard a glass being filled with ice as well, and then Len came back into the room, tripping over the forgotten gun on the floor, and kicking it to the corner. Jack’s eyes widened at the things he carried, now he really didn’t care who was on the phone.
“Alright, see you then.” Len motioned for Jack to turn his head back around, and lift his hips. He slid a towel and a pillow under him and started unpacking the box. Moving his fingers to Jack’s opening, he massaged it a little, before hooking the tips of two fingers in and using them to hold him open. Jack whined and pushed his face into the pillow so the person on the phone wouldn’t hear them making sex noises.
“No, that was nothing, just the dog.”
Apparently, he hadn’t done a good enough job of being quiet. Len punished him by shoving a small vibrator all the way in between his fingers. It was thin and smooth, but long enough to make Jack just a little uncomfortable. Len pushed the end in, and kept pushing until his whole index finger had followed it. Jack whined again, this time from mild pain. Suddenly he gasped, his whole body jumping as Len turned the device on, and set it to high. “....Yes, thank you. ..... Goodbye.” He turned off the phone and tossed it to the floor. “I got an interview for another secretary job!”
“T-that’s great, baby...” Jack said into the pillows, but a small voice in his head had it’s suspicions about this. Len hadn’t even put out his resume again yet, and already he had an interview...? The voice was quickly squashed as Len grabbed an ice cube from a glass and popped it in his mouth. He pushed his fingers back into Jack, and grasped the base of the toy, pulling it out still humming. Jack sighed and relaxed a little, but Len pushed the tip back in to keep him alert. Finally, he turned it off and put it to the side, Jack was alone with his fogged head for a moment. Then warm lips descended holding something cold between them.
“Len....” Jack was lost, escaping for at least a little while from the person who had lived in his body all those years.
--
“Dr. Skal?” Len came cautiously up to the small wrought-iron table, placing a hand on it’s perforated surface. He looked the man sitting there over, trying to ascertain if he really was some kind of monster. Brad Skal was an ordinary man like Len, not resembling his son in the least, with short dark brown hair, chestnut eyes, and a complexion that only a scientist could obtain. Still, a few things made him different from the other all-important men of Esthar, he seemed to have spent time torn away from his work, revealed by the small cracks by his eyes, and a more than faded tan over his skin. Calluses spotted the insides of his hands, and small, thin scars lashed over his arms barely able to be seen.
Brad looked up from the paper he’d been reading and cast a friendly smile at Len, gesturing to the seat across from him. “Len, my boy, thank you for coming! How’s your dog?”” His eyes flicked over him for an instant, but didn’t stay long enough to make Len feel ogled.
“Fine, he was just begging for some attention.”He lied perfectly. Len sat down in the chair. He shifted a few times, attempting to soothe the mild anxiousness in him, but eventually settled with picking the lint off of his shirt. “So... There was something you didn’t want to mention on the phone?”
Brad stifled a cough as a polite gesture since he was about to bring up an uncomfortable topic. “Has Jack ever spoken of me?” Len looked up at him for a moment and bit his lip. Brad took that for his answer. “I can tell it hasn’t been either a lot or good words circulating around me.” He sighed dramatically, such a tortured soul was he. “As you might’ve guessed, we don’t get along too well, my son and I. His mother’s passing affected everyone in the family in a different way, and really I can’t blame him for blaming me.”
Len stilled his hands and folded them in his lap. He looked at them to avoid the expression on Brad’s face. What he did not see, however, was the smile half-hidden behind a hand that propped up Brad’s chin. “Umm, I’m very sorry to hear of your loss. What.. Exactly did your wife suffer from?”
Brad’s smile widened and he leaned forward, changing it to a woeful grimace. “To be very honest with you, no one really knows. God, Jack kept trying different doctors, they would always prescribe something, but nothing helped. Eventually the responsibility to heal Janet fell entirely on me. I...” He paused, genuinely choked for a moment. “I couldn’t do anything. I had never felt so powerless.”
Guilt sunk into Len, he had never really had too many problems with his family, other than being gay. He suddenly worried over his own mother’s health, but kept that towards the back of his mind until he was alone with a telephone. Gradually, he was able to raise his eyes to Brad’s face, and a small shiver ran down his back. “You have my sincere condolences. Was there something you wanted me to tell Jack?”
“Yes. Well, it’s a bit more than that.” Brad leaned back, steepling his fingers. “I, as you may have seen if you’ve been following the papers, have recently been rehired in Esthar. I’ll be honest with you, I’m old,” he held up his hand to stop protests as Len shook his head. “I’m lonely, and I want to see my children again. Of course, Jack has sisters, but neither will have anything to do with me. Jack is my last chance at having some kind of family around me before I die.”
“Are you ill?” Len asked quickly, checking him over with his eyes for obvious injury.
“No, no, it’s nothing so severe.” He closed his eyes and gestured openly to the street and the people around them. “I just can’t stand to come home every night to empty rooms. Also,” Brad cleared his throat. “I was thinking that perhaps if either of you were looking for a good job... I mean I’d never want Jack to go hungry on the street, but the difficult part is getting him to accept anything from me. Please, I’d like it very much if you would ask Jack to come see me. I leave in a few hours, but I’ll give you with a number to reach me by should you make any progress with my headstrong son.”
Len nodded, reaching forward to take the proffered card with clean black typing. He was about to speak about Jack’s stubbornness when Brad spoken again.
“Also, take these.” Brad dropped a heavy envelope on the table in front of Len and stood up, gathering his paper under his arm. Before Len had a chance to peek inside the folded letter, Brad stuck out his hand. “It was very nice to meet you, I am glad to see my son’s good taste in such a fine young man.” When Len returned the handshake, Brad pulled him in for a quick hug, patting him on the back and then releasing him.
“I’m glad we had this meet as well, sir.” Len turned to the table to pick up the envelope, and when he turned back, Jack’s father was gone. He blinked a few times and opened the package, taking in a short gasp of breathe as he pulled out two train tickets to Esthar, a letter to Jack, and some travel money.
--
The seats on the train were in a shared cabin for four, and the other two occupants were Estharian soldiers coming back from leave. There were two bench seats facing each other, and Jack and Len sat beside each other on one, while the soldiers took the other. They were talking to each other in whispered and conspiring giggles, every now and then looking up at their compartment companions before dissolving back into uproariously drunk laughter and sinking halfway off the seat. Jack and Len shared a look of pain, but for some reason Jack looked a little more uncomfortable, and not just physically. He still carried the shadows of the bruises Blaine had given him.
“Are you hungry at all? We could go to the dinning car and get something. Maybe you’ll feel a little better if you eat?” Len was trying to find an excuse to get out of the dissecting gaze.
Jack, however, was more uncomfortable moving then sitting still. It seemed even breathing hurt after everything that had happened the day before, not to mention he got motion sickness easily. “No, I really can’t look at food right now, but you can go ahead. I’m going to try to sleep until we get there, it’s still another two hours.”
“Okay, then you want me to bring you back some water? More stomach medicine?” Len asked getting up and pulling on his coat.
Jack shook his head, and regretted it. “I’ll be fine.” He stretched out across the seat and took off his jacket, balling it up under his head like a pillow. The door shut with a loud click, and he turned on his side, back facing out.
“I knew it! There, I told you so, I knew I recognized him from somewhere!” One of the soldiers crowed, pointing at Jack and elbowing his friend. “He’s that hooker from Deling! I once saw him take it from, like, a whole troop of Galbadians!”
Jack sat up, panicked and realized that his shirt must’ve crept up and revealed his tattoo. Either that or the man just recognized his ass, that being the main view he’d seen. “No, sorry, you must be thinking of someone else. I’ve only been in Deling for a few months, there’s really probably a million prostitutes that have long hair and tattoos.”
The other soldier turned back to his friend with high eyebrows, ignoring Jack completely. “No kidding? Did you get a piece?”
The first soldier nodded quickly, smiling widely and also ignoring Jack. “Yeah, there was almost no one there who didn’t get some. And man listen, it was good. Actually, I was almost sure he was dead after that, he wasn’t breathing too well when we left him.”
“Hmm, he seems fine now, walking funny, but healthier than most sluts you see.” Finally, one of them acknowledged Jack, turning with a grin and reaching out an arm to pat his knee. “Aren’t you, boy? You look good enough to fuck.”
Jack was reaching for any weapon of his he could find, but all of them had been placed into storage by security. Too bad security wasn’t here right now, not that they’d help him or anything. He knew that even if he had something, to assault an officer of Esthar was to face almost certain death. The government was strict beyond belief there and they believed whole-heartedly in capital punishment. “Please, I’ve been through alot and I don’t want any trouble. I’m…I’m on my way to see my dad… He’s the new scientist Odine appointed, err, re-appointed.”
“Heh, really? Your dad’s Dr. Skal? I don’t believe you. I know the guy, been to his house and everything, he never mentioned anything about a son. If you think you’re going to pull something on that poor old man, you’ve got another thing comin’. We outta’ teach you a lesson.” The man reached out for his other leg, pulling Jack towards him.
“No, no, really! He sent me a letter and told me to come and see him. Look!” Jack pulled the letter out from his back pocket and threw it at his attacker, jumping back to his seat with a wince.
Both soldiers leaned over the letter, rereading it over and over before giving it back to Jack. “I still don’t believe you, but I’ll make you a bet for the truth. If we’re right about your lying, you have to spread for both of us.” They waited until Jack nodded, eyes closed with frustration. “…At once.”
Jack opened his eyes suddenly, staring at them with disbelief. “And if I win?”
He smiled, leaning back on the bench. “We don’t tell your boyfriend about the Galbadians.”
Looking indignant, Jack shook his head. “Fine, whatever, but just in case, don’t tell him about this bet, either.” They looked skeptical. “If I’m lying I’ll make it worth your time.”
Len, with his impeccable timing opened the door and came back into the cabin. “Hey, I thought you were going to sleep?” He gestured for Jack to scoot over.
“I was just talking to these gentlemen. They know my dad, and they said they’ll take us to his house from the station.” Jack was looking out of the window. They were getting surprisingly close, and he could see the blue-lit city in the distance. He had barely agreed to go, but with Blain’s impending harassment and the job shortage Len had convinced him. If nothing else, he would go to make a final severance of ties with his father.
“That’s great! It’s really appreciated, you guys, thanks. We don’t know our way around Esthar at all.” He sat down and the next hour was silent, as was the trip from the station. The only words came from Len, commenting in quiet excitement about the different parts of the city they passed through, and finally they came up on a most luxurious apartment building that reached all the way up into the sky.
“Wow, is this really it? Jack, whatever your dad is doing must be really important for them to pay him this much.” Len couldn’t seem to stop being amazed at every little detail around him.
“Eh, yeah, I guess…” Jack shrugged as he stepped up to the gate, and pulled out his wallet to show the guard his I.D.. “I’m Jack Skal to see Brad Skal.”
“Ah, yes. He’s been expecting you and your guest. Penthouse floor, I’ll take you to the elevator and put in the code.” The stiff, diligent soldier let them in, nodding to the other two as they followed.
Each with bags in hand, they approached the fancy door, and stood waiting with different interests while Jack rang the bell. After a few minutes, the door opened and a mild-aged man who slouched appeared in the doorway. He was wearing a white lab coat over regular clothing, a black pair of slacks, and a plain white shirt. It was obvious he was not an Esthar native, nothing about him resembled the regal nation. “Hello?” When he spoke his voice was deep and calm, like a pitch expected from a doctor, yet far less grave.
One of the soldiers that had accompanied them stepped forward, thrusting out his hand and shaking it with Brad’s. “Hey, Dr. Skal. We were on the train coming back from Deling and happened to be seated with these young men. They mentioned they were on their way and so we took the chance to see you again.” He had sobered up almost immediately upon arriving within the city limits.
Jack stood to the side; he couldn’t look at or speak to his father. He could feel Len’s eyes on him, expecting him to do something, anything, but he was too overcome with feelings to move. There was something dangerous about the front Brad was putting up; something so fake it was believable to everyone but Jack. He could not decide whether to play along and risk reliving his childhood or to run away like his instincts told him to, even if it meant having a painful threesome with the soldiers. If he ran then Len would be left alone with his father, and probably be talked into staying until Jack came crawling back. He couldn’t do that to Len.
“Jack? Boy, is that you, all grown up?” He could hear Brad speak to him in the counterfeit sweetness of an old lonely man. Jack couldn’t stand it, he began to shake and his eyes were welling up with moisture. “Are you all right, son? What’s happened to your face, there?”
Len touched his shoulder, and he broke, falling to his knees and covering his face with his hands as he sobbed behind them. “I can’t do this!” He cried quietly.
“Ah, he’s had a really tough week.” Len explained, dropping his bag to pick up Jack and carry him inside. “I think maybe he needs some food and rest, is that alright?”
“Oh, of course!” Brad said with deviant sympathy. “Boys could you get their bags inside for me?”
“Sure thing, Dr. Skal.” The other soldier replied and picked up half the bags, following his friend in behind Len.
“Why don’t you kids stay for dinner? Maybe it’d help Jack a little if he were not alone with me. We didn’t part on such good terms, you know.” Brad shut the door and went to the phone book on the table. He gestured for Len to set Jack on the couch in the living room, which was easily the size of a single bed, and get him some blankets from the closet. Jack was asleep before his head hit the cushions.
--
The pizza was on its way, and all five of them sat in the living room waiting. Jack was still asleep across the couch, with his head resting in Len’s lap. Brad sat in an armchair facing the couch, and the soldiers whose names turned out to be Ash and Eiri, were in smaller cushioned chairs facing each other, between the couch and Brad. The conversation was light and idle, sort of floating around with politeness before getting a good awkward hold.
“So, Dr. Skal, how come you never told us you had a son?” Ash, the one who had previously met Jack in Deling, was enjoying his last vodka before returning to active duty.
“Ah, well it’s hard to explain, really. Until recently, I hadn’t spoken to Jack in many years. We used to fight a lot when he was younger, I suppose it was mostly my fault for redirecting the stress of my work to my family, but he found it hard to understand why I never had time for him.” Brad lied sweetly. “I left my family to pursue my work to a better extent, but in hindsight I believe it was the wrong decision. Right now the press is focusing too much attention on me to let them know I had a son, so I did not mention it for fear that it might interrupt whatever life Jack had found.”
“So why did you send him that letter now and not so many years ago?” Len asked with innocent curiosity, stroking a hand through Jack’s undone hair.
“Well, it wasn’t until now that I finally got his address. I had no idea what city to even look in, until I recognized a place in one of his pictures.” Brad reached down beside the chair and pulled up a black folder.
“If you two weren’t speaking then how’d you get pictures of him?” Eiri frowned, unhappy that he had the first shift in the morning so that he could not have another drink now.
Brad placed the folder on the coffee table between all of them and opened it, pulling out one magazine page after another. “I’ve been following him in the magazines for years, I have every single publishing he’s ever made, I think. This is something I don’t usually show people, but since you asked there’s no real harm.” He started handing out different pages of pictures with Jack either in the fore or background.
“Jack never told me he was in a…Oh my God…” Len took one of the pages and as he looked, he realized just what he was seeing. Jack was lying on a table in a nightclub on his side with another man. They were wrapped around each other in a ’69’ position, Jack’s terribly pale face buried between the man’s dark-skinned thighs and visa versa. Jack’s hair was out in a wide arch behind him, loose and flying like a horse’s mane, and the other man’s long dreadlocks splayed in the exact same way between Jack’s thighs. The small caption at the bottom read ‘Yin-yang at Pulse.’ Len was horrified and he looked to the innocent old man and the folder overflowing with other photos.
The picture Ash held was from the party he’d mentioned in Deling. He wasn’t in the shot, but Jack was strung between three Galbadian soldiers, with more surrounding him, two inside of him and another with his dick to the base in Jack’s mouth. Ash grinned at the picture, showing it to his friend. “See? What’d I tell ya’?”
“Why don’t you show them your video collection of me next, dad?” Jack opened his eyes, glaring at Brad as he sat up and rubbed his head.
“Well, I can if you want, Jack. Which ones did you want me to show them?” Brad’s face was totally somber, even with Jack’s anger rising.
“How about the tapes from when I was seven and you used the icing from my birthday cake to lube up your dick as you fucked me on the kitchen table? I know you got that one on camera, you even gave a copy to Dr. Odine, and as I recall his favorite part was that when you were done you pulled out and stuck it in my mouth, not letting my head go until it was clean. Remember what you said then? ‘Make a wish, Jack.’” He bit his lip to keep from taking flight across the room and killing his father.
--
His memories came back very clearly as they always did. Jack and Jill had never really been normal or social children. Jack had no friends because no parents allowed their children to play with a boy from such a tainted family. Apparently the fear spread quickly, because even at school no one would play with Jack for one reason or another, usually teasing him for looking like a girl. Jill had no friends because she had developed a nasty disposition in the past few months following her brother’s abuse. She too had been ostracized by the other children, but she had considered it their loss. Though both children were equally shunned, Jack was the more pursued and openly persecuted of the twins.
One day in particular bubbled to the top. /Shut your mouth, try not to panic. Just shut your mouth, if you can do it./ Jack’s lips pressed together in a show of endurance as his father pinned him down on the well-worn canvas of the training room. He knew what was coming next, what always came next, his desecration. There was a harsh laughter and heavy breathing in his ear, his father looming over his back and holding his arm at a painfully twisted angle. He wouldn’t scream, though, no matter how hard his arm was pulled and even if it broke, he wouldn’t make a sound.
“Feeling tough today, boy?” Brad Skal hooked his fingers into the waistband of his son’s shorts and tore the soft fabric away with ease. Then he turned Jack’s arm loose and caught the back of shirt on his short descent to the rest of the floor. It came off easily over his head, but it also distracted him too long and his trapped catch was up, and the top of his foot met Brad’s cheek.
“You’re getting careless, old man. It’ll take a little more than that arm-hold to have me.” Jack bounced back from his collapsed father, never letting his guard down while he waited for him to get up. He was much better at dodging than attack, even though most of the time he wasn’t quick enough to get away. He hopped from one wrapped foot to the other, unnerved that he’d lost his clothes, the little bit of barrier between them.
Brad slowly pushed himself to his feet and eyed Jack, gaze lingering on the faintly bruised thighs longer than anything else. Then he nodded, making a silent decision. He quickly stripped off his own clothing and returned to his fighting stance, rubbing a hand over his sore jaw. “Oh, but Jack! You keep moaning and gasping when I’m fucking you, am I supposed to think that you don’t like it? I don’t know why you put up a fight at all, I know you ache for it. You’re such a slut, every day I try to ease your sulky looks, but it never seems to be-“
”Shut up! It’s rape and you know it, bastard! Come here and I’ll fuck you dry up the ass and see if you ‘want’ more of it.” Jack danced a little closer, face read with anger and exertion.
Brad swung out and cuffed him in the ear, making it bleed, then rocked back to dodge retaliation. “Try it, boy, I dare you. I’ll have you on your back so fast you won’t be able to take a breath.”
Jack skipped back, feeling the warm trickle down his neck. “Yeah, well, you’re not sexy enough to nail, anyway, I’d go soft at the start.” None the less, he lunged forward and kicked out at his opponent’s mid-section.
“You’re just not enough of a man to do it. You were made to be nothing more than a bitch.” Brad jumped back and caught the foot with one hand, holding it by the ankle and twisting until Jack was flipped to his stomach on the floor again. He was over him in a heartbeat, pressing his knee into the boy’s back and grabbing his knees in each hand. “You need to find your place, brat.”
“Fucker, get off of me!” Jack bit his tongue as he felt the familiar pressure against his ass. The knee left his back and he could breathe again for a moment, trying to push himself up from the mat. As soon as he’d gotten to his knees his father’s hands moved to his hips and he felt the mild wetness of pre-cum slicking his hole. He’d been raped earlier, which was what had brought about this sparring match, after his father had snuck up on him in the shower. It hadn’t been rape so much as torture, Brad fitting huge dildos into him and forcing his cock down his throat at the same time. His voice had been pretty hoarse since then.
“Do you concede?” Brad hesitated, giving him a choice between the floor and somewhere else.
“No!” Jack tried to pull away, but only ended up pulling Brad closer to him as he struggled. “I’ll never just take it! I’m not your whore!” He broke at the firmer pressure against his tender spot, tears spilling from his young twelve year-old face and his body collapsing bonelessly.
Brad sighed. Jack had just taken most of the fun of raping him out. If he wasn’t going to physically resist anymore, he’d have to prey on the mental anguish he could put him through. Ah, true sadism. Instead of finishing the penetration, Brad pulled away and scooped Jack up in his arms. The boy was bleeding from many places, all of them Brad’s fault, and the man was not repentant about it. He carried Jack like a child against his body, bringing him to his lab at the end of the hallway. There he sat them both into the cushioned patient’s chair, he reclining normally, and Jack slumped against him in his lap. This was one of Jack’s least favorite positions, Brad’s cock going deeper than normal. But he wasn’t taking him yet, Brad was waiting, stroking Jack’s sweat-dampened hair and inspecting the new cut just above his eye.
“What’re you doing?” Jack questioned with a mild slur that had come from his crying. He tried to sit up, but Brad held him down to his chest.
“I just want you to admit it.” Brad said, holding him down again as he tried to sit up again. His hand continued running through the growing mass of lavender hair. It was down to the middle of Jack’s back now, and still lengthening every day.
Jack successfully sat up this time, only far enough to stare at his father in confusion. This was strange behavior coming from the man who’s favorite daily activity was catching Jack when he was off-guard and fucking him several times. “What?”
Brad smiled sweetly and distantly, grabbing his son by his flanks and hauling him up to rest just above his waiting erection. He wasn’t quite invading him yet, it was just a warning to give him an idea of his intentions. “Admit that you’ve lost. I can claim every part of you, without so much as a scream, now. If you say it, I’ll be gentle...”
“Fuck you!” Rearing his head back, Jack spit in Brad’s face and scrambled up out of the chair, running for the door. Once again, Brad caught his ankle, following him in his attempt to escape and floored him. He was dragged up by his shoulder and pressed face-first against the cold steel wall, a hand at his neck more than insisting he should be still. He bit his lip hard as a hand came down on his ass and slapped hard enough to leave a welt. Dr. Skal disciplined his son again and again, eventually making him cry again, and evoking the slow admission. “O-Okay...” Jack sputtered around his sobs. That man was such a bastard.
Brad stopped, pressing his full hard-on against Jack’s crack for intimidation. “What was that?” He ran a finger lightly down his son’s back, slipping just under his tail-bone and into his body dry.
Jack made a strangled sound and squeezed his eyes shut. “You can have me. ...I won’t fight this time.”
“There’s a good boy.” Brad took his finger out reached behind him for a tube that was on a table behind him. He smeared his dick liberally with gel and pulled Jack’s hips out to meet it. With one guiding hand, he slowly eased into Jack’s taught and tense body. He moaned at the warmth clamping around him and held the position for a moment to enjoy it.
Jack whined and tried desperately to move away from this terrible sensation, clenching his tiny fists harder and digging his nails into his palms as he leaned helplessly between his father and the wall. It was so hard not to scream, his ass had already been torn open once today and now the cum stung as it leaked into already open wounds. He tried bracing himself with his legs farther apart and bending more at the waist, but it only let his violation deepen. “No... It hurts...” He whispered in a strained voice.
Brad leaned back, levering his hips against Jack’s harder and pushing the rest of the way in. He was always amazed at the delicious sensations that came with fucking his son. Brad held him still, even though he squirmed, and pumped into him, quickly pulling out far and then slowly pushing back in.
“It’s too much!” Jack murmured in his tears, “Take it out, it hurts!” He felt it in him, deeper than it should’ve ever been, rolling between thrust and withdraw. There was pain, but something else that made him uncomfortable, yet he couldn’t define it.
“It’s not too much, it’s good.” Brad said, undulating his pelvis again. He was afraid he might cum soon, so he pulled out and flipped Jack around to face him. The astonished boy looked at him, confused but relieved to not have *that* inside of him. Unfortunately, he was wrong in thinking he was saved, as Brad pushed him up the wall and impaled him on his cock again. “Please, stop! I-I can’t...” Jack wrapped his arms and legs around his father, trying to support himself other than from his penis. It jumped in him, pressing an area that was more sensitive than others. Jack wailed, unable to hold it back as the unpleasant feelings began to make his legs shake and his back arch.
Brad’s eyes were heavy, sweat dripping down the sides of his face, as he thrust with rhythm into his son’s body. The muscles in him were pressing with strength around his inflamed dick and it was making him lose it. He groaned and started to orgasm quickly, leaning against the wall for support, but barely able to hold himself and his son up through the rush of endorphins. Seconds later he was coming in the boy, his tension releasing and the energy draining from his body. “Jack...!”
His head turned away from the site, Jack refused to be present in himself while the semen spurted into his body, reaching deep up into him before dripping leisurely back down. Jack waited impatiently to be let down, swooning as he was, he immediately dropped to his knees and lurched on the floor.
He could hear his father laughing softly over his shoulder. “I knew I couldn’t really have you, but it was nice to hear.” The soft padding of Brad’s feet on the steel grating on the floor surrounded Jack for a moment as Brad walked past his kneeling form and over to his meager desk. This gesture was his dismissal of the victim to go clean themselves up. Nodding to his back with a grimace, Jack pulled his abused body up into a standing posture and dragged it from the room. As he trudged through the hallway to the bathroom he shared with his twin sister, he undid the dirty tape around his hands and shivered as his feet shuffled onto the white tile of the bathroom. He started a shower running and sat on the edge of the tub to undo the tape around his feet. Jack choose to ignore the small splatters of blood and semen on them, closing his eyes and tossing them into the trash. When the water was warm enough, he eased himself back into the tub and just let it rain on him.
-
Brad looked taken aback and offended, but Jack seemed to be the only one who could tell it was a lie. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, son! The videos I have of you are nothing like that! I understand you’re angry with me for leaving but that’s no reason to fabricate such terrible stories. I don’t effect what you do with your life now at all, I’d also rather not know what you do with your birthday cake if it’s not eating it.” He shook his head and picked up a remote from the table, turning to the window and pressing several buttons. The wall solidified and a light projected on it, showing an old film of Jack as a child, playing with a ball outside of their house. The scene changed and he was drawing with his twin sister at the table, he waved and held up a crayon drawing of no discernable shape. The film skipped and went to Jack in the bathtub with his sister, they were very young, playing with toys and splashing one another. As the movie continued Jack got older and started to smile less, he avoided the camera and held ice over a black eye as he sat at the kitchen table crying.
“Jack, what happened to your eye?” Len whispered.
“Mom and dad were fighting over me at dinner and I got in the middle of it, she meant to slug him, but I was in the way.” Jack muttered grimly, adding. “Nice editing skills, I see you missed the part where you did anything wrong.”
Brad sighed deeply again. “Now it’s true that your mother and I fought alot, but that black eye was from school. You looked so different; they would pick on you everyday. I think you got into a fight because they teased you about your hair. In all fairness this was a big kid, and he ended up with worse than a black eye.” The movie continued, tracing Jack into older years, now he had a tattoo across his back and his right ear is pierced once, he comes through the front door looking like hell and barely wearing anything besides a pair of blue shorts, boots, and a trench coat. There was an argument between him and the camera, an arm reaches out and grabs him by the elbow, but he shoves it away and walks past the camera into the hallway. In the background the sun is rising and the camera follows him into his bedroom, which is decked to the walls with chains, handcuffs, whips, and the bed is laden with restraints. There he flings the door closed and the screen becomes static.
“Damn boy, how old were you?” Eiri asks, eyes wide at the rebellious youth.
“Ten.”
Brad turned off the screen, and set down the remote. The doorbell conveniently rang and he got up to answer it. Jack also got up, following his father into the kitchen after the pizza. “Dad…?”
Brad was getting out plates and napkins, he turned to his son with a smile. “Yes, Jack?”
“Could I see you in private for a few minutes?” He grit out quietly from behind clenched teeth.
“Of course. Everyone can come serve themselves whenever they want.” Brad led Jack into a hallway and at the end of it, into a bedroom, which appeared to be the master. The whole right wall was one big curved window with dark curtains halfway drawn. There was a king size bed made up with a dozen fancy throw pillows, and it almost looked inviting. Brad closed the door behind them and leaned against it, looking at Jack with a feral grin. Brad’s posture had changed dramatically in the few feet they had walked.
“What are you doing, old man? Why are you hiding the fact that you’re a monster?” Jack looked guarded but curious. Standing close to him so that he wouldn’t have to raise his voice, Jack could smell the jackal’s breath; a little alcohol, a little mint, otherwise bland and unoffensive.
“Why did you come here? Did you need money that wasn’t from prostitution? Was your boyfriend sure that once we saw each other everything would reconcile, and that, upon hearing of your troubles I would offer you any help you needed? If you want something then you’ll have to earn it, boy.” Brad’s entire demeanor altered, he threw back his shoulders and stood straight, his face was not fatigued, but scheming, and his eyes were narrowed to small devouring slits. He pushed away from the door, advancing on him and placing his hands on Jack’s hips. There was a firm pressure against his thigh, its definition unmistakable.
For once in his life, Jack did not move to push his father off of him. “Yes. That’s why I came. I didn’t want to be at that place any longer, and while your threats were still minor it made no sense to wait until they were serious. Len thinks we came to ask for money, I came for time to think. We can’t live off of his unshakable morals and pretty ideals, and as it has become apparent, there really is only one way for me to make any gil at all in that city. So I can lie to him one way or the other, but at least if I came here I thought you could give him a job.”
Brad’s hands were running up under Jack’s shirt, playing with the nipple rings that hung there. One hand moved around to his back and slid down against the skin. His fingers brushed lightly against the soft flesh, before creeping down farther and pressing against the small cleft. “Jack, you’ve tried to kill me everyday of your life since you were six. Now I can give you all the time and money you want, and I also won’t mention anything naughty about your past to Len if that’s what you want. If you play along with me, we can pretend to have a nice, happy family again. The only catch is that you have to play with me as I ask.”
Jack closed his eyes, and fought off the revulsion. Right now, all he would pretend was that he was in another place. There was no man rubbing himself against his thigh or slowly touching him. His repine for the situation was dire, and the choice was difficult. “I have a few more things to add to that.” Bringing his arms up, he rested on the lubricious man’s shoulder surrendering to the demands. “If I have sex with you again it will not be like the other times. You will not beat me, because I am stronger than you are. You will not rape me or show unnecessary cruelty during sex, I am still fragile. You will not use emotional manipulation, because although you are my worst enemy, I can overcome it and not belt you. And lastly, there will be no other people involved in this, I want this to be remuneration only between you and I.”
The hands withdrew, and Brad looked mildly somber, and mildly fanatical. He took Jack’s hand and led him over to the bed. He undid his belt and let his pants and underwear fall to the floor. Brad sat on the edge of the bed and undid Jack’s pants, pulling them down with his boxers. He turned him around and pulled him back onto his lap, avoiding the conflating of their bodies for now. Then, reaching around, Brad grasped the bottom hem of the black shirt Jack wore and pulled it up over his head.
“He’ll know, Jack, just like I know every time someone fucks you, looks at you, or touches you. You’re mine; you were born into my possession and just because you’re grown up it doesn’t make you liberated.” Dr. Skal sucked on two of his fingers for a moment, then used his other hand to part Jack’s knees so that he could place them where they had rested before. With judged stress he pushed one of them into Jack’s body.
“I said don’t talk to me. I don’t want to hear whatever disturbed things you have to say.” Jack leaned back against his father and moaned. He liked the tender breach of his skin; it was soothing and arousing, as long as it went slowly.
“Jack, you know I’m right.” Brad licked Jack’s neck, biting it lightly at the apex of his throat and shoulder. “He’ll feel it when he touches you.” His finger went deeper, and very slowly, the other finger pushed within him as well. He fingered Jack cautiously, generously, and made sure he was well stretched.
Jack hesitated, that bastard was right for once. His thoughts were fogged and his resolve was dissipating with each careful pass of those fingertips. “Later.” Jack gripped the sheets to either side of his father’s legs, the sweat running down his back made his skin stick to the front of the man’s shirt.
“Oh, later, huh? Like when you’re trying to clean up the mess that’s all over your thighs? When you’re trying to find the energy to face Len in bed? ...Because you know with your nature you’ve never refused sex with such a fine piece, not even after you’d been raped.” Brad admired the tattoo he’d taken three years to complete. It shone beautifully in the moonlight, just as he knew without looking that his son’s eyes were shining red in the semi-darkness. His free hand traced over it, knowing the sensitive spots and applying more or less pressure on the skin he knew so well.
“How?” Jack gasped out. He kicked his pants the rest of the way off and turned around so that he was straddling Brad’s lap facing him. The fingers were gone and he became anxious, looking down at his shorter father, with his shorter dick and graying hair. He pushed him down backward onto the bed and looked into his face.
“You have absolutely no shame, even when your lover is on the phone.” Brad took a second to appreciate his position, the object of his desire naked and wanting over him, begging him, but he had to push it for more. His hands ghosted up Jack’s thighs, smoothing the quivering skin shrouding over lean muscles he’d helped to build. Suddenly, though, it was all gone.
Jack was pulling on his clothes again, muttering to himself as he headed for the door. “You set all this up, bastard. I won’t be your child any longer. I’ve learned more than you think, and you cannot keep your tyrannical hold over me. I’ll be your harlot, but there are boundaries to my mind as well. Besides, you should keep your hard-on tucked away in front of Len.”
Brad raised his head up from the bed and watched with fascination at his son. “I’ll give him a job at the palace. He’s good at secretary work, but I’m sure there’s a few other talents hidden away. Maybe I can find him an actual job.”
Jack paused at the door, turning back and looking past his father out of the window. He ticked and ran a hand through his bangs, brushing them back only so they would flop forward again. The position would help Len alot, but was it worth such a sacrifice? Obviously, he had known this was one of the possibilities of coming to see his father, it just wasn’t the one he’d wished for. Mentally, he was as prepared as he was going to get. “What am I going to do all day while both of you are gone?”
Brad tipped his head to the side and gave it some thought. “I could put Len on the early morning shift, so he’ll be back by one in the afternoon, and then I’ll just take the afternoon and night shift. You can spend the better part of the day with your honey.” He sat up and propped his knees up to lean on them. Brad gave a small smile and patted the bed next to him.
Shaking his head and also smiling, Jack was amazed at how this plan was coming along. It was almost too successful, something, other than Jack losing a little self-respect, was bound to go wrong. “At night, then?” He walked back over to the bed and sat down, pulling off his shirt again.
“I’ll share. Besides, I’m often tired after work. Now, I’m done talking. I’ll follow your rules, whatever it takes to get that ass back here.”Brad reached around Jack to undo his pants again. He pulled them down roughly, upending Jack as the cloth came off over his feet. Once again, he was naked, now laying on his back, tousled and hot.
Jack released a breath of tension and pulled himself back to his knees, pushing his father back to the bed as they had been before. He crawled over him again, and paused, searching for something around the room. He spied a bedside stand and searched the drawer, making a small ‘tsk’ to himself as he had correctly predicted his father. Holding up the miniature jar, Jack raised an eyebrow to his father and the man responded by shrugging.
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TBC...