| Chapter 6 - Silence |
| The quiet that enveloped the rest of the day made time drag. Lance followed Chris around like a lost puppy and Chris growled at everyone, especially the tall Italian with the bruised face. J.C. and Justin stayed out of the way, not entirely sure what was going on. The show was tense and cramped. Chris intentionally knocked into the wounded man, however the fans seemed oblivious. The ride back to the hotel was filled with aggression. Chris's anger radiating off of him while Lance sat slumped against the seat, defeated. The next couple of days followed the same routine, with little variation. Somehow though, Chris managed to talk Lance into going out. They spend most of the night in some nameless club. The sun had just begun to rise when they finally made their way back to the hotel. Leaning on each other and singing the works to a song they couldn't quite remember. They didn't know that they were being watched. Lance waved at Chris from the door of his room, his drunken stupor making him feel very tired. He walked across to the bed and belly flopped onto it. He hadn't noticed that someone had slipped into his room. He heard a faint growl and rolled onto his side to se where it was coming from. A deep voice hissed. "You're going to pay little man." The darkness of the room was soon washed away when the light was flipped on. Lance's stupor instantly disappeared at seeing the sight before him, the tall man stalking toward him. "How dare you go crying to Chris! Your mine and I'll do whatever I want to you." He growled as his long fingers wrapped around Lance's forearm. "You are in so much trouble." "But..." A hand slapped Lance's face. "Shut up!" Despite the warning, Lance opened as if to speak, causing a hand to rise in threat. Lowering it slowly to his pocket he pulled out a ball gag. "Just to make sure you stay quiet." "No please, don't..." But it was too late. "If you're good and cooperate, maybe I'll lighten your punishment." He cooed while adjusting the strap on the gag. He looked into Lance face and watched the tears roll down his cheeks. A moment of tenderness washed between them as he slowly wiped the tears off of Lance's face before pulling off Lance's shirt. He slowly stripped Lance naked, enjoying the warm tears that fell on his hands. He leaned Lance back on the bed, after pulling down his own pants, he rammed into Lance without any warning. The bright pink ball of rubber muffled Lance's scream. He brought his hands to the broad shoulders above him, trying to push the larger man away. Large hands grabbed his wrists and wrenched his arms above his head. He wiggled his hips but that only seemed to encourage the harsh thrusting. He suddenly went slack when he realized that escape was futile. This desperate dance, his punishment for allowing others to know their secret, lasted for several more minutes. He noted the silence, only broken by the steady panting above him and his own labored breathing. It was over. Almost. "I don't think you've learned your lesson quite yet." The breathless voice muttered as he pulled a trembling Lance off the bed. "I think you need time to think about what you did. A nice dark quiet place." Before Lance could respond he was in the closet and the door was closed and locked. He heard the voice on the other side announce. "If you make any sound at all, I'll beat you with the belt." And with that, all was quiet. |