Till Death Read online

  He wrapped his hand in my hair, trying to make me take in more of him, but I didn't do it. I continued my slow tease and steadily wrapped my lips around the head.

  I sucked lighter than I did at the tip, but licked the head all over. Around and around the head, my tongue went. More pre-cum spilled into my mouth, landing in my tongue.

  Justin kept moaning and begging for me to go faster but I didn’t give in. I took in a little bit more of his cock, he tasted just as good as I was hoping he would. I was sucking harder and harder; his cock was going farther into my mouth with each suck. Soon, it hit the back of my throat.

  I decided to keep it in my mouth because I really wanted to taste his cum.

  I brought my right hand up, wrapping it around his cock as best I could. I jerked it lightly. I slightly pushed my mouth farther onto his cock.

  I pulled his cock out a little, then thrust it back into my mouth. Justin was basically screaming by then, when I let his cock touch the back of my throat.

  He started moving his cock in and out of my mouth as I sucked him harder. I continued to lick him when I could.

  My left hand fiddled with his balls. Justin’s cock was throbbing and he moaned. He was getting close. I took my mouth off of him and continued to jerk him off with my hand.

  His mouth was open wide and his cock still throbbed.

  As he jerked his hips, Justin’s cock hit my lips. I continued to play with his balls, then placed the tip back in my mouth just in time to catch his first large squirt of cum.

  Justin’s salty cum quickly filled my mouth. He tasted sweet, and salty. Different. Another spurt of cum landed in my mouth without warning and I almost felt smug. I still got it. If I could make a guy like him, who had experience, feel that good, then I must have some talent.

  I kissed Justin and he kissed me back harder and with more intensity.

  “We can stop now,” I said. “We don’t need to do anything else.”

  "I'd rather have fun," Justin said. I pulled him in for a passionate, tender, loving, tempting kiss. Justin rubbed the crotch of my shorts and smiled.

  "What kind of fun are we talking?”

  “I want you to fuck me,” he said. “I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t feel anyone else, ever. I just want it to be you, always inside me. That’s how badly I want you, Trent.”

  His voice choked up.

  I hugged him, hard. We were both trying to find each other in ourselves. We were both hoping to find the hidden treasure, even though we’d been hurt, hoping for there to be a purpose for the pain we’d been caused. I was starting to lose myself in him. I was starting to feel things again, and fear things again.

  I knew he didn’t know me and I didn’t know him. And even though we both knew our pasts would catch up to us eventually, we wanted to feel a new form of love and a new kind of pain.

  I kissed him with a burning passion. He reached for my pants and undid them. He lowered them and set them aside. His fingers lightly grazed my body as he put my cock in his mouth and sucked my cock.

  Fuck, I was going mad. What was happening to me? Why was I so fucking hot for him? He stopped and came up. “Do you want to give me pleasure?” he asked. “Do you want to make your mark? Own your territory? Do you want to show me the depths of your passion?”

  I told him that I did.

  He dropped to his knees in front of me. It looked like he was praying for a long time, still on his knees and then he looked up and there was a kind of glazed look in his eyes. “You have to hurt me,” he said. “Or I won’t feel anything. I won’t be free.”

  I wanted him to be free. I wanted him to be free because of me. I wanted to go deep, deeper than anyone had been…

  “How hard?” I wanted to know.

  “I’m not fragile,” he said, but he was wrong. When I struck his face and my knuckles connected with his cheekbone, I cut him.

  The skin across his right cheek split and his face went red and tears sprung up in his eyes involuntarily. The crack in his skin was bleeding profusely and the blood dripped from his face to his neck.

  While he was distracted with that, I grabbed a bottle of lube. I bought it in case something like this happened. It was new. I took off the foil cap and spread some on my fingers.

  I was on my knees and Justin got on all fours in front of me. There were bruises on his back from the beating a week ago still.

  I looked at his ass, it was pale, firm, and tight. I took the bottle and lubed up my cock, already partially wet from pre-cum.

  I rubbed a little on Justin’s skin. I raised myself up, lining my cock up with Justin’s ass. I put the tip of my cock in. I was slow and steady at first but when he started to accommodate me a little better, I was harsh and relentless.

  I was rough with my movements. Justin gasped in pain and pleasure. I entered deeper, the head of my cock fully sliding into his tight little ass. I thrust out then back into him. Out and in, out and in. It slowly became easier to leave and return to him.

  The thrusts became longer and faster, then I slowed down a bit but not for long. I went faster as I got closer to cuming. I ran my fingers down Justin’s sides.

  I held him close as I felt the cum explode from my cock. I could feel he was jerking off to my thrusts and now I felt him reach climax. I pulled myself slowly out.

  I turned him toward me and kissed him softly.

  "I love you," Justin said.

  "I love you, too," I said, running a finger over the split skin that was bleeding still and I kissed him there. “You’ll hate me,” he said. “Because I’m such a freak. You’ll leave me, too.”

  “I’ll never leave,” I assured him. It reminded me of the time Dominic wanted me to say it to him. It’s strange that he always thought I’d leave him.

  “You promise?”

  “Cross my heart, kid.”

  He was silent after that.

  Later, when we were both in bed, and I was playing with Justin’s soft brown hair, and he was clinging to me, he spoke again. “Why do I feel like I need to be afraid of you?”

  I thought about it for a second. “Because you do, kid.”

  5

  "You know I'm the only one, Trent. I'll always be the one. You can’t get away from me. I’m your fate, I’m inevitable..."

  There was blood everywhere.

  So much of it.

  “He died because he tried to touch you,” he said. “I won’t let anyone come between us.”

  I felt like someone was choking me and I woke up in a strange panic. It woke up Justin and he had a worried look on his face. “Are you okay?”

  His expression said he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. I was quick to silence his doubts but couldn’t do the same for my own. That voice, those words over and over and over…

  Get out of my fucking head.

  “I need water,” I had barely finished the sentence when Justin got off the bed and practically sprinted to the mini bar. He broke the seal on a fresh bottle and brought it to me. That was such a sweet fucking gesture it almost brought tears to my eyes. “Justin, you don’t have to do that.”

  “It’s okay, I like doing it for you.”

  I gulped down the water, spilling some on my bare chest. I set it aside and got back in bed.

  “You don’t have to go back to sleep,” Justin said. “We can watch a movie.”

  “No, that’s fine…”

  But Justin already had the remote in his hand. “I can never go back to sleep when I have a nightmare.”

  He looked about twelve then. I was almost envious of his innocence. That beating couldn’t have been the worst thing that happened to him, but he had somehow retained his innocence. It made me feel protective. It also made me feel proud.

  I wanted to do things to him. Things that I didn’t feel proud of. He spurred me on to think of a movie of my choice and I opted for a gruesome slasher flick because he sounded okay with my choice, I didn’t give it much thought.

  Halfway through the s
tupid movie and ten seconds into another bloody decapitation, he gave up. “How can you watch this stuff?” he complained. “Doesn’t it bother you that he’s doing all these hideous deeds and these people are dying?”

  “Justin, it’s just fiction. Sometimes watching fictional violence can be cathartic.”

  “Whatever. We’re not watching this anymore!”

  I was enjoying the childlike innocence of his rebuttal. He went on about how the world needs less violence, fictional or otherwise. How he was going to one day learn to make movies that would be anything but violent.

  “Did you always want to make movies?”

  “Trent, I didn’t actually mean it. I was trying to make a point. I’m quite content just watching movies.”

  “You’re saying that because you think it’s a ridiculous idea, you as a film maker. I saw it in your eyes, the light when you let yourself believe for just a second that you were making movies.”

  He looked embarrassed. “What are you a fucking mind reader?” I loved how quick he was to curse. “Stop that. You’re making me nervous.”

  “Justin, I never told you what I did for a living.”

  “What does it matter?”

  “I’m an actor. Well, I used to be. I loved theater and acting, I loved everything about it.”

  “So, why’d you quit?”

  “I didn’t. I stopped getting work. I guess they wanted someone better at the craft and better looking. I had to look for another job to survive.”

  “So, you’ll pick it up again someday?”

  I smiled. “I don’t know if I have that kind of time.”

  “Time? You’re not doing anything.”

  I didn’t have the strength to explain so I started talking about something else. “You know there are scholarships and grants available if you go to film school…”

  “For a whore?” he said this without judgement but he was aware what the world thought of his career choice. “Pretty sure getting money for blow jobs is frowned upon in those circles.”

  “No one’s going to find out…”

  “Come on, dude. These things always come out.”

  I hated the fact that despite being so young, he was talking like a man my age when it came to a future. It wasn’t fair. I wanted to do something about it.

  Maybe in time I could… and then it occurred to me that time was the last thing I had so how was I supposed to give any to him? Shit, what was I thinking? Justin was a good kid. He deserved better than to be with me, some washed up wannabe actor who didn’t even have the courage to find out what treatment options were available for the cancer invading his lungs.

  I wasn’t just a professional hack, I was a hack in my life.

  And I didn’t want to be a hack in love.

  Maybe it was time to go over past decisions. Maybe it was time to alter a few of them.

  6

  I swigged cheap gin from the flask. It was something to get high on, I could care less how unhealthy or how bad the taste. It didn’t take long for a Prius to appear on the opposite side of the road, and it stopped in the restaurant parking lot nearby. I stayed silent as two men got out and headed inside the restaurant. But before they went in, the tall one grabbed the short one and kissed him.

  Fire raged in my chest. It was burning my insides but I couldn’t even look away. It was like watching a train wreck. I watched Dominic talking to our waitress, get our table, and I watched them laugh and smile at each other until the food arrived—our food, what we always ordered. The crazy part was that if I told the new hire this truth, he wouldn’t believe me.

  He would be under Dominic’s trance and it would give him the impression that he’s special but he’s not. Just like I wasn’t, just like the men who came before me weren’t, and the men who will come after me will never be.

  People like Dom don’t fall in love. People like Dom don’t come up with new lines to impress someone because they don’t make the effort. Because they get tail anyway, so why would they bother. It’s a great system.

  If you’re a guy like Dominic. I mean, it’s the perfect con. I’d feel sorry for the new target if I didn’t hate him so much.

  My hand hovered over the 9mm holster and I took out the switchblade and watched it’s shiny gleam in the street lights. I don’t know why I was even doing it. Did I want to kill Dom? Or maybe the new installment of tight tail? Or maybe both?

  I wondered how I would do it. The switchblade was a lot more personal than just using a gun. A bullet in the head just wouldn’t be enough. Not after all those years of torment and humiliation.

  I couldn’t stand outside the stupid restaurant forever so I drove to the motel and continued to drink, hoping to feel something other than anger but the fire did not fizzle out at the image of Justin’s obnoxiously trusting face. The anger inside me that I kept wanting to let go of, it burned and destroyed and there was nothing I could do about it. I hated it. The lack of control. The pathetic need to be with that bastard. I hated it all. My hate had morphed into an all-consuming, deep-seated outrage.

  I went toward the bed where Justin had his back to me, where he was asleep. I removed the covers and he was naked except for my boxers that were way too loose on him.

  My hand traveled up underneath the luxurious fabric and my palm touched his soft satin skin, and my cock twitched. I felt a delicious little pang of pleasure in my nerve center that spread all over me and gave me the courage to go further.

  Fuck, he was so beautiful, so perfect, it was insane. It was unfair to the rest of us who had to endure it. He was so beautiful a part of me wanted to mark him, just to see if he could handle being ugly.

  I unbuttoned my shirt because suddenly it was hot in that room. I undid my shirt sleeves and folded them all the way up to my elbows. I took the boxers off the boy’s hips and trailed my fingers all over his soft skin.

  He stirred and came awake and tried to see me but I forced him back down on the bed.

  “Trent…”

  “Shut up,” my voice was heavy with liquor but firm. “Slave boys don’t get to talk.”

  He was breathing hard. I had no idea if he was into it but he didn’t say a word after that.

  My hand was going all over his ass and then I grabbed my switch blade. The cold steel felt good against my fingers and I could imagine what it would feel like for Justin. “I haven’t had the chance to use this blade,” I placed the sharpened tip on Justin’s ass. “Maybe you can help me christen it.”

  I pushed lightly against the soft cheek until the skin split, and Justin started to squirm. I was certain he was pissing himself by then, but to his credit he didn’t say a word.

  When I pressed the blade to the other side, just to even things out, I could feel him trembling. He stayed incredibly still, allowing me to run the blade a third time, and that was when I heard a whimper. It wasn’t much, just a tiny giveaway that he was paralyzed in fear but I wanted to make use of it.

  I stood and placed the blade on the nightstand. “If you move so much as an inch,” I warned. “This blade will be slicing your fucking balls. Stay still. Like you’re a fucking dead body!”

  I went to the mini bar and got a couple of tiny bottles of whiskey and I brought them over to the bed where Justin hadn’t moved.

  I opened the bottle and poured the alcohol all over Justin’s wounds.

  He must have tried, but his submission was no match for my cruelty. The alcohol burned the open wounds and a slight whimper escaped Justin’s throat and this time his body moved and squirmed visibly.

  Something about this whole thing made me feel powerful. I was in control. I was excited. My dick was hard enough to break glass. I wanted release but I also wanted to prolong this. It wasn’t confusing at all, it all just came naturally to me and I didn’t understand it.

  “What did I tell you, Justin?” I said. “Dead bodies don’t whimper and squirm!”

  “I’m sorry!” I could hear the tears in his hoarse voice.

  “Who
gave you permission to talk?” I screamed, and forced him to turn over on the bed. Sure enough, his eyes were damp and his face was flushed. He looked miserable. “You failed, Justin. You failed today, and I don’t want to have anything to do with you! We’re through.”

  I started to leave and he grabbed my arm. He kneeled on the floor in front of me and lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Please don’t leave me. I need you. I need you to teach me, please. I need you...” his voice was choking up. “You can use me, keep me around like a slave or a dog, but please don’t leave, please…”

  I grabbed his arm and pulled him up. “I wasn’t actually going to leave you,” I told him and then kissed his forehead. It was clammy and tasted of his sweat.

  He started to weep.

  “I’ve had enough of your crying,” I said. “Get on your knees. Until you learn how to be perfectly still, you’re going to get punished. And none of that pansy ass, spanking either,” I reached for my belt and unbuckled it. I slid it off my waist and felt the weight of the leather. Justin was on his knees and I walked over behind him so he couldn’t see me anymore and he couldn’t anticipate my moves. “Keep your eyes in the front.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You will count the ten strikes with me, understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I launched directly into the lashings, and kept a firm hand. The belt strap landed hard against Justin’s ass and there was an exciting sound as it hit the boy’s skin.

  I could feel him struggling to maintain composure. “One.”

  I struck a second time without mercy and without giving him time to recuperate. His head lowered to the ground and his body moved to get away from the belt strap. “Two!”

  The third one I made sure it was worse than before and came faster. Justin didn’t count. I waited for only a second, before hitting him again. “That’s three again because you didn’t count!” He was really struggling now. I hit him again and though it was bad, he remembered to count.