Authors: Jack L. Pyke
“Better,” he mumbled, taking the shower head down, careful to push the cuffs further back so I couldn’t easily slip free. I tried to force my hips into the wall when I felt him crouch and spread my cheeks with one hand, then wash my hole.
He was back to his feet and the shower head was fastened back in place. “All done.” The water stopped running and I was left shivering into the cold, or maybe from whatever was in my system. Part of me was missing the numbness that came with a full dose. Hands drifted down to my hips. “You look good wet, Jan. Hmmm.” A full hard-on pressed into the small of my back, pinning me against the wall. “All fresh and clean.”
Bites went to the back of my neck, fingers now digging hard into hips as he took hold and started rubbing his dick between us.
“Gray will cut your fucking balls off.” I said flatly. He knew about Gray; how he knew didn’t interest me anymore, but if he’d done his home work that well, he’d know what Gray was capable of.
Vince grunted, maybe losing pace, then giving a sigh, he patted my hip. “Still counting on him to come charging in on a white BDSM bondage horse, hmmm?”
I kept my breathing even.
Another sigh. “Well let’s put you out of your misery, eh?”
He was gone. After a moment he came back in close again, reaching around me. It took a moment to recognise both mine and Jack’s mobiles in his hand. One went on the shower stand, my phone, and Vince came back to me, thumbing through Jack’s.
“Right, so after your call allowed me and Henry to rape the fuck out of you two—” I got a nudge. “—thank you for that, by the way.” Vince snorted a chuckle. “We found our Jack rambles a bit when he’s on the drugs. Seems you all had a falling out recently, hmmm?” He sniffed and flicked on a message. Today’s date was Saturday, December 23rd. Six days? We’d been here six days? Then the date of the text message came into view. Two days after the argument.
Maths and numbers; I was okay so long as I had maths and numbers.
Call.
Just a simple order, but one that had Gray written all over it.
“Left that there for a day,” said Vince, “then sure enough, Jack got another.”
Jack. Now.
“Well, thought we’d better reply.” He thumbed the sent box.
Fuck you, Gray.
“Got to keep up with that fucker’s more colourful way of expression, right?”
My stomach turned. Vince was back thumbing through the inbox. “Ah, here we go.”
Jack. Fucking call me. Now. Don’t use Jan to call again.
“This Gray dude,” said Vince, “such a nasty fuck to Jack, ain’t he?” He was back thumbing the sent box. “Kind of took a wild guess that those porn sites had finally got to you all, and no doubt poor old Jack was the target of his shit, so I thought I’d help them both along.”
I need a break from this shit. We’ll talk when my head’s in a better place, not when you damn well demand it.
Time out... There was no time out attached to that message. Gray will know, Gray will...
“We had no more calls after that to Jack. But...” Vince picked up my phone and put down Jack’s. “You got a call a day ago. Which you missed, then promptly apologised for.”
And there it was, in black-and-text white.
Gray, apologies. Jack’s going through a rough time at the moment; he’s barely talking to me and is using my phone to “go casual”. He’s promised he’ll talk to you when he’s in a better frame of mind. I’ll give you a call in a few days to let you know how he’s doing.
“Decent guy that you are. To which Gray replied.”
Fucking call me on Jack’s phone, Jan. It’s not rocket science.
“Now, you being mister soft lover and nothing to do with Gray’s Master Circle,” said Vince, “I thought you’d take exception to being spoken to like that. So.”
Another message flicked up in the sent box.
For god’s sake, Gray. Not the heavy tactics now, please. Just let me have these two weeks to calm him down. You don’t sound in any state to talk properly to him either, not yet. I’m not going to call you, not until I know you’re both calm.
A strangled groan hit the air. I knew it was mine and a sympathetic pat tapped my hip. “Come on, Jan, I understand, like, totally how you feel. The guy sounds a right twat. I’d have said exactly the same thing.”
“
You did, you fuck
,” I shouted, only to hear Vince chuckle.
“Well, yeah.” And he thumbed the last message that came in.
Two weeks. No longer. When you get back, Jack sees me, and me alone.
Look after him, Jan.
Please.
I choked back another sob.
“And just in case you’re thinking ‘but he’s MI5, he’ll do his check on the mobile signal and see we’re not, well, away, he’ll know something’s wrong,’ our tech guy could convince Gray he’s getting message updates from NASA if he bloody well chose to do so.”
“He’ll know. He’ll fucking know. There’s Jack’s dad, his work, his—”
Vince showed me a few other texts, those to Jack’s dad asking for cover, apologising, saying he needed time away, a cover-manager for the garage until after Christmas. Texts to Steve to see if he was okay, that he’d be away for a few weeks and to get in touch with Greg if there are any problems.
“Let him check away, Jan,” said Vince quietly. “Everyone has the same old story. You and Jack, well,” he gave a chuckle, “you’re having a real good time out together over Christmas without good ol’ Gray.”
Jack didn’t do social, but he did do family. He was big on family. Gray would know this wasn’t normal. He’d fucking know.
“So, Jan.” The mobiles were now back on the shower unit, well away from the water, Vince pressing his body back into mine with his dick never thicker. “Just you, me, Jack, and whatever I can think up to do to you.”
“Don’t.” I said quietly.
“Oh.” He nuzzled into my neck, smiling. “Say that again.
Please
.”
“Mr. Vince.” A voice drifted through into the bathroom, followed by harsh radio feedback. “You’re needed elsewhere. Leave Mr. Richards alone.”
I hadn’t noticed it when I was dumped down by the toilet, but back above the door, and keeping a full watch on the bathroom, sat a camera with a single red light.
“Eyes forward.” A grip to my hair forced my head into the wall. “Henry, get your fucking arse in here and take care of this shit.”
“Coming, love.”
“Hmmm.” A kiss graced my shoulder. “Looks like Princess is starting to stir. Let’s go see if he’s starting to play ball.” A needle punctured my arm, making me cry out. “You can come again too.”
Wood floor was cool under my body as I curled onto my side, naturally finding a safe foetal position and hugging my knees to my body now that I could move. Jack’s cologne was all around me, mixing with my own, and part of me wanted to question why my neck was damp with traces of my favourite when I was otherwise naked to the elements. I’d loved it when Jack had added mine to his collection, that sweet intensity on his face as he’d taken it off me and inched it into position in amongst his. Everything found a place in his life eventually, even if he did need to go casual sometimes and throw everything out of order.
Easing a hand under my head, I groaned as I tried to push up. Life waltzed around me, turning my stomach with it, and I choked bile onto the floor.
Not clean.... I looked around, under Jack’s bed, over to his computer desk, anywhere just to try and spot a towel. Mess like this would drive Jack to casual, and casual wasn’t good, it meant he was struggling, and struggling... Jack had been struggling so much in the bath.
“Fuck.” Palms flat on the floor, I kept my head down as life continued to spin. I licked across my lips, tasting salt, tasting tears. Out. I needed to get up, to get out and find Gray, find a—
Mobile.
There on Jack’s desk, not far from the monitor, sat his mobile. Staring. I knew I was staring, taken with the light on the screen, almost as if someone had just finished using it and had tried to put it back to sleep in the darkness. Light looked so good in the pitch black around me.
“Move.” It took me a moment to realise that had fallen from my lips. “Fucking move, Jan.”
Noise came from the bed, stealing my attention, but only for a while before I was back with the light on the phone, now getting to my knees and trying to blindly find my way over. Gray needed to know Jack. He needed to know that wasn’t Jack in those videos. Just a kid, Jack had just been one screwed-up kid, a kid that was struggling and fighting for breath as he was being raped in the bath, just a kid. Just ours.
Another shuffle on the bed, this time followed by a soft groan filtered over.
“Jack?”
He mumbled sleepily and I was suddenly crawling over to the bed, dragging myself up, pulling Jack onto my lap and kissing repeatedly at his head. “’S okay, baby. ’S okay.” On his back, an arm over his face, Jack blindly found my arm, mumbling something, then tugging me down. “C’mon, baby,” I said, choking back tears. “Need to go. Need to... to move.”
“Wrong...” Jack murmured, then he twisted onto his side, pulling me down with his hand finding the back of my neck. “Something’s wrong.” Jack added more pressure to my neck, forcing me to lie next to him. As I sank into the warmth of the covers, he was instantly coming in close, leg going over mine, arm snaking around my chest as he hid in my shoulder. “So wrong.”
Life spinning as I grabbed his shoulder, I tried shaking some life into him. “Gray. Need... need to go get Gray. Find... just get Gray.”
“Jan?” Jack gripped harder, almost trying to climb inside me. “Stay. Christ. Don’t go again. Don’t hide from me... please.”
I choked a sob, wanting, needing to hide too, somehow registering the black necklace around his throat as it dug into my arm now while I held onto him. “Don’t want to hide, baby.” I kissed his cheek. “Stay with you. Stay.”
The bed shifted as someone lay down behind Jack, and I stiffened as slick, black eyes peered over Jack’s shoulder, huge round holes that reflected my blank stare in alien orbs. Breathing was strange, filtered through a black gas mask that almost seemed welded to the thick skull it shaped.
Not real. That wasn’t fucking real. Just some dream. Part of one huge messed-up dream.
“Yeah, Jan’s here,” a voice whispered in Jack’s ear. “He’s always right fucking here for you, kid.” Jack fell deathly still as I cried out.
Someone came at me from behind, slipping in close, tearing my grip off Jack and pinning my arms behind my back. Hands were cuffed in the struggles, Jack lost to his own as a grip to his hair pulled him back, away from me, then forced him face-first into the pillow.
“No.” An arm went around my throat as a thick naked body pressed Jack’s into the mattress. “
Fucking no
.”
“You touching Jan without my permission?” Hands pinned level to his head, Jack cried out as thick legs forced his open. “That’s one huge fuck-up, Jack. And you know what happens with fuck-ups, don’t you?” Jack grunted as a dick pushed into him. “I make you cry, boy.” Each pound of Jack into the mattress travelled up my body and matched my cries as I tried to get closer, to get the bastard off Jack, just to get to Jack. Then I cried more when a grip to my hair forced me closer to Jack. My chest brushed against Jack’s side, my groin against his hip as I was forced to feel every struggle he made to try and get free, every hard pound of groin into his ass as he was forced to take the man above him.
Giving a cry, the man in the mask grunted, holding himself deep in Jack for one second, then fucking in a few last lengths to make sure he took everything his balls had to offer. Finished, he pulled his hips back slightly, then stroked along his dick, the last few traces of come were strangled from him and oozed out onto his fingers, then he wiped it on Jack’s back. Breathing hard, heavy, Jack went very still.
“Off him,” I mumbled. “You—” I fought against the choking grip on my throat, trying to kick, trying to snap the masked man out of his trance, how he stared at Jack. “
Get that fucking come off him
,” I cried.
A black gas mask shifted in my direction, then he eased down by Jack, never letting his gaze shift from mine. Pushing at Jack’s shoulder, forcing him onto his side, facing me, the man took a hold in Jack’s hair, then made sure Jack looked at me. Pupils were dilated, greyness focused somewhere else, on something else, on the crawling inside his body. “’S okay, baby,” I whispered, trying to shuffle closer, rest my head against his, just try and give him something else to ground him. Nobody had heard our cries yet, that was nothing new for a street like this; always looking the other way. But Gray... “They fucked up, baby,” I whispered. “He knows, he’ll come, he’ll find you. Time out. You never said time out,” I mumbled. “He’ll fucking know it wasn’t you. You wait and see. He’ll be here.”
Something was whispered in Jack’s ear, and the briefest flicker of a frown crept to his face. The whisper came again, this time accompanied with a thump to the ribs that had Jack doubling into my shoulder and crying out.
“Don’t... kiss Jan, Jack.”
I stared at the man in the mask. Pulling Jack’s head back, he whispered again in Jack’s ear.
“Don’t... kiss him, you fuck.”
The confusion was there, that need to fight the whispering in his head, but also something else, the need to hide, to find comfort, to take comfort...
Jack came in, shivering, holding so tightly he hurt my neck and stopped breath. There was a gentle nudge at my jaw to get my attention, Jack asking me to respond, needing a response, needing comfort, needing security, and tears ran down my cheek. He wasn’t asking for me, he wasn’t after my attention, my comfort or strength. He asked for Gray; he needed Gray now.
“Christ, baby. Stay with me,” I mumbled, kissing at his head, allowed to kiss at his head, his cheek, not caring where so long as I felt him against me, so long as he felt me. “Don’t listen to what they say. Stay with me. Stay with—”
Jack was pulled onto his back and a fist split an already cracked lip. “
Told you not to fucking touch, whore,
” snarled the man in the black mask, then Jack instinctively covered his head from the beating he took from huge fists.