Title: Rock Bottom
Rating: NC 17 / Adult
Summary: How did Andrew come to have that bruise on his face, and what sort of life has he been living on the streets?
Warnings: Set in S2. Non-con, graphic M/M scenes.
A/N: This story has been developing over the last few weeks. I've been in two minds about posting it but decided the only way I can get feedback is to post it and see if people think it's any good or not. Will be 'multi-parts' because of length.
The twenty shivers with the slight evening breeze as he holds it out tantalizingly before my eyes. I look from it and then up at him. He's all spruced up, a definite business man in his suit, shiny shoes and carefully fastened tie. About six foot tall, dark hair, piercing blue eyes and tanned complexion. Kind of guy who's only in this neighborhood for one thing. I'm not sure what he's expecting to get out of me for a mere twenty bucks. This guy oozes money, but still I reach out to take it from him and he withdraws his hand a moment just out of my reach and a smile appears on his lips. A smile which is now all too familiar to me, and one which makes my stomach churn a little as I get a sinking feeling deep inside.
"You can either take this twenty from me kid and we have a quick little tumble out here in this little shit hole of an alley you call home," he says to me, giving me a look of slight disgust. "Or there's a hundred in it for you, I check us into a motel and we have a little fun."
The word 'fun' drips off his lips and there's a glint in his eye. I'm not sure I trust this guy, but the weathers turning bad and the thought of a motel room is quite enticing. Even if the fun part doesn't quite entice so much. Plus a hundred would help me out a lot. Maybe get myself a motel room for a couple of nights, a little comfort for my efforts. I push the apprehensive feeling aside and stand up, he steps away and smiles again, sliding the twenty back into his wallet like he knew I was going to agree to his offer. Turning he heads off down the alley and I follow a few steps behind him. His car is sleek, like him, dark windows perfect for hiding the fact he's picking up boys from back alleys. He's gotta be in his late thirties, early forties. Probably got a good job in the city, maybe even a wife waiting for him to come home. But he has an itch and wants it scratching and he's willing to pay me a hundred to scratch it.
I slide onto the back seat as he opens the door for me, trying not to enjoy the feel of comfortable seating as he gets into the front seat and starts driving. I can see him checking me out in the rear view mirror but he doesn't say anything to me and I don't talk to him. It's a short drive to a seedy motel and he seems familiar in finding the place, it doesn't take us long to get there. Pulling into a space he parks up and turns in his seat to look at me.
"Go hang for a moment over there, I'll go get us a room." he nods a his head over to a shadowed area, somewhere I can slink into without much notice. He doesn't want the attention drawn to him, even in this part of town. No knowing who he may run into, a fellow worker out for the same kind of fun. I jump out of the car and head over, leaning against the wall and watch him as he heads in the opposite direction towards the reception office.
The winds picking up and biting at my fingers, I sling them into my pockets and put my back to the wind, waiting for him to return. A few minutes later he comes out of the office, looks in my general direction and gives a slight flick of his head before veering off to the left. It's a sign to follow him and I do, trying to stick to shadows. Not that this motel is used for much more than people trawling the streets looking for hookers and a place to bed down for an hour or so. I swallow back the apprehension again, it's not like I've done this before. Most guys are looking for a quick fumble, but one guy brought me to the same place a few weeks back, paid me sixty dollars for half hours work of service. But I feel nervous each time and I'm not proud of what I've become. Still, the thought of a hundred dollar bill in my pocket is too enticing to refuse. I could back out and walk off, but he's paused at a door, unlocked it and went inside and I'm following him in.
He flicks on the lights as I close the door, before he turns to me, drawing closer. He nods towards the en suite.
"Go take a shower, if I wanted to smell the shit we'd have stuck around the alley." He says harshly and I don't even flinch, just meekly do as he asks with a cocky grin on my face. As I head past him he grabs my arm, he's got a vice like grip, probably works out at the gym a couple of times a week. "And make sure you clean everywhere kid, I want a nice clean hole to fuck into."
The request is unusual but not surprising considering his looks and manner. He oozes the kind of power where he's used to getting his own way. Probably runs his own team for some multi million company. Not that I'm going to argue with him. The thought of a warm shower to clean up is a relishing thought, even if the goal is a little unsavory.
I give a meek nod and tell him 'Ok' and he lets go of my arm, the sting of his gripping fingers lingers on my skin as I go to the bathroom and close the door behind me. I avoid looking in the small mirror above the sink, instead stripping off quickly after I turn on the water and stepping under the warm spray. I grab the soap and lather up trying to take as much time as I can to enjoy the moment but not wanting to keep him waiting too long. I can't describe what it's like to clean up in a shower after so long without one, but it feels pretty good. The soap smells of nothing in particular, nothing like the ones mom used to keep in the bathrooms at home. No, can't think of her right now, can't think of home. Times like these I wonder what Dad would have thought of me. Can't think about that right now either. I banish them all to the back of my mind and make sure I do as he asked, no ordered, and make sure I thoroughly clean myself. Reluctantly I turn off the water and step out of the cubicle, grabbing a towel and quickly drying off before wrapping the towel around my waist.
I open the door and step back into the main room. It doesn't consist of much, a few pieces of furniture, small twin bed, cabinets either side, a chest of drawers and a desk and chair under the window by the door. He's sitting on the edge of the bed perusing a pamphlet he must have gotten from the drawer of the desk perhaps, his jacket's already off and draped over the back of the chair. I can feel my nerves getting the better of me again, my stomachs getting tight inside and I force myself to breathe and calm down. Not like I haven't done stuff like this before, usually it's in their cars, a blow job in exchange for cash. Jerking them off in the back alleys, a quick hand job buys me a couple of meals.
He looks over as I re-enter the room and folds the pamphlet, setting it aside on the bed as he appraises me from his position. I watch his eyes as they trace over me, like they are making a mental map. I've lost a little tone and some weight after being on the streets, but not enough that I'm not still appealing.
"Drop the towel." He tells me, I find I'm clutching it tightly with a fist where the two ends overlap.
It's like a mental struggle to let go but I force my fingers to do so and feel the towel dropping away. His eyes rove downwards quickly and his lips curl into a satisfied smile. With a sigh he stands and walks towards me, suddenly focusing his eyes on mine with a determined look. When he reaches me, he pushes me against the wall, hands solid on my chest, pressing closer as he presses his mouth to mine. He's insistent, tongue lapping wetly against my lips and I open my mouth to accommodate, his fingers sliding down my chest, over my stomach to my groin. It's a struggle to get my head into this kind of game, I need to focus and not think on what I've become. Just go with the flow and get things over with, make sure I make it good for his hundred bucks.
This guy's a serious kisser, tongue down my throat, it's swirling against my own and he tastes of coffee. I'm thinking expresso. Would make sense if he's a business man, the quick buzz it gives would keep him going into the late hours. My chest is getting tighter, I need to breathe and he's pressing close like he's making sure I know he's in charge. His hands are playing just a little with my cock, just feeling me up before they slide along the side of my thighs and up my body again. I can feel him getting hard from where he's pushing up against my leg and I slide my hands down to start working at his belt, doing the best as I can seeing as he's still kissing me and making it hard for me to manouvere. He pulls back, a little breathless and his eyes have grown darker, as he reaches up and pulls at his tie. I slide my hands up to help him, pulling it free and starting to undo the buttons of his shirt. He leans with one hand against the wall, letting me do the work as he runs his fingers over my chest.
"You got the stuff?" I ask him, something I should have asked him before we started all this. But the thought of a shower was too enticing to risk losing out on. Still, I'm not stupid and I'm assuming he isn't either.
Smiling at me, he just runs his fingertips whisperingly over my nipple playfully.
"Don't worry your pretty head over stuff like that kid." He tells me.
I pause at his middle button and look up at him closely. A smile plays at the edge of his lips but the looks in his eyes is anything but playful. I place my hands on his chest instead of helping him undress and look at him squarely.
"You got protection?" I ask him again, giving him a small push. He barely moves. "Because if you don't mister then maybe we should call this a night."
The hand which had been playing over my chest wraps around my wrist and he looks at me fiercely.
"We'll call this a night when I decide to call it a night. What makes you think you're calling the shots here?" He asks me, voice low as his eyes burn into mine.
I try to stay calm, even though inside that apprehensive feeling is starting to send chills running up and down my spine. I drop my free hand from his chest, his other hand still grips around my other one and it's starting to hurt a little.
"Look mister I don't want no trouble." I say, trying for the meek card. "Plenty of other things we can be doing right? Want a blow job? I've been told I give good head."
"Oh be sure I'll be keeping that pretty little mouth occupied for a short while," He growls to me, pressing close again. "Won't be the only hole I'll be accommodating tonight either."
I'm very aware I'm naked and he's fully clothed. I've gotten myself into a corner here and I need to get out of it fast. A coiling fear is suddenly growing within me and I press my hands to his chest again, using my strength to push him away. This time he does step back, obviously not expecting me to put up a fight at his suggestion. I may be desperate for money, but not that desperate. His fingers are still wrapped around my wrist as he jerks my arm forward as he steps back.
"No way, I'm not into that sort of crap. You haven't got the protection you don't get to fuck me." I tell him, trying to pull my arm away at the same time pushing at his chest again.
He looks angry now and I'm trying to not let fear fall into panic as he refuses to let go of me. Instead he jerks me back against the wall again, swiping my free hand away and his fingers grabbing my throat, coming up to wrap under my chin, pressing my head into the wall hard. I try and push him away but he's got height at his advantage and looms over me, overpowering me quickly despite my attempts to free myself. His grip on my throat and face makes it hard for me to call out, not that anyone round here would come to offer me any help.
"You listen to me you little fuck," He spits at me, his eyes are feral, full of anger and intent. I'm starting to release how futile my situation is becoming. "You're going to do as your told. I tell you to blow me, you're gonna suck my cock like it's the sweetest thing you've ever tasted. I tell you I'm gonna fuck you, then you're gonna offer your ass to me like a good boy. You understand?"
I give a slight nod of my head, not that I can move my face much considering his grip on me. This guy means business and I don't want to think of the consequences if I don't comply. Probably beat me up and still fuck me. Either way, I'm fucked, if I comply at least it won't hurt as much.
His lips screw up into a smile again as I blink, hoping the fear he's causing to rise inside me isn't evident in my eyes.
"Good," He says. "Now get on your knees and let's see how good that pretty mouth of your's really is."
His hand lets go of my face and resting on the wall beside my head and I start sliding down to my knees. He's still got hold of my wrist, the presence of his fingers like a throbbing ache now, I pull at my arm but he doesn't let go, instead pressing his hand and my wrist to the wall as he looks down at me.
"Try anything funny, I'll break your wrist." He threatens, smirking down at me. I know it's a promise.
I concentrate of undoing his pants one handed. I'd already unbuckled the belt, just a button and zipper to work on. They undo easily and I push the folds away, fingers dragging on the band of his boxers, pulling them down. He's already half hard as I free his cock from the confines of his pants. I lean forward a little, tongue flicking out to lick at the tip, I hear him suck in a small breath of satisfaction as I wrap my lips around the head. He grunts in approval as I work on sliding more into my mouth, using my fingers to delve past his boxers and play with his balls. I can feel his shaft hardening quickly as I use my tongue to press against it, moving my head back and forth, finding a rhythm as he groans in approval above me. I work on sucking as I pull back, tongue massaging the underside of his shaft as I slide forward again. Fingering his balls for extra stimulation. He jerks his hips a little and I try to take him deeper, I know I need to make this good for him. I've no doubt his threats aren't empty ones.
I feel fingers on my head. I've kept my hair shorn since being on the streets, it keeps the lice away. One less bug to worry about, what with roaches and fleas to put up with. He's got nothing to grip onto, but it doesn't stop him from putting his hand there as he jerks his hips again, obviously enjoying what I'm doing by the sounds he's moaning out. I chance a look up at him as I pull back sucking till my cheeks are hollowing. He's looking down at me, catches me looking up and smiles with satisfaction before letting out a groaning breath.
"Oh yeah, mmm," Are his non descrip dialogue, along with the odd 'Fuck yes' thrown in for good measure.
I concentrate on sucking and working my tongue on the throbbing shaft for what drags into minutes. I roll his balls in my fingers, feeling them tighten, willing his orgasm to come quickly. His hips are jerking quicker and he's gotta be close. I move my head faster, urged on by his satisfied moans and wanting this to be over. His grip isn't as tight around my wrist but it's still there, like a chain holding me in place. It doesn't take much longer, each stimulation too much for him to keep up with and suddenly he gives a sharp thrust and a yell. I feel warm liquid hitting the back of my throat and pull back a little, his fingers at the back of my head making sure I don't pull back fully, instead he jerks hips again, making sure I'm fed every drop. I can feel him softening in my mouth as I withdraw my fingers and finally his fingers let up their pressure on my skull. He pulls back with a sigh and his cock drops limply from my lips. I look at it where it drops by the stark darkness of his pinstripe trousers, it's glistening with the moisture of my saliva and traces of him cum.
My arms starting to hurt from the angle he's holding it and he gives it a pull, a silent command for me to stand. I comply, placing my other hand against the wall and getting to my feet, he's smirking at me like someone who knows he's got the advantage over the underdog. That's how he sees me, not as a person, but as a little fuck toy he's paid for for a few hours. I'm no more a person to him as the hookers on the street corners he passes by on his way into this part of town. The first time I took money in return for a sexual favor, I promised I'd never do it again. But it's easy money and when you've not eaten anything save for what you can find in the dumpster, easy money becomes enticing.
He lets go of my wrist and I rub at it, trying to chase the ache away though it's starting to throb. I know I'll have bruises there from his fingers come morning. He leans towards me, fingers running along my jawline.
"See kid, that wasn't hard was it. You look like you were enjoying yourself." He gives a soft chuckle, pressing his lips gently to mine a moment before pulling back again. "Now, go get on the bed."
I look at him defiantly, trying to think of a solution out of this situation I've put myself in. This guy is dangerous, something I'm now well aware of and if I could leave now I'd be happy. But he's not letting me go anywhere in a hurry if he has his way. He steps back away from me and looks at me with an expectant look, I swallow and I can taste drops of his cum still in my throat. Even if I could make a run for it, my clothes are in the bathroom and there the only ones I have. If I locked myself in the bathroom, I still have to get past him and though I'm quick he's bigger and certainly stronger than me. All my options right now are futile and I follow his order, sidestepping him and heading for the bed.
"Face down." He tells me as I reach it. My stomach is churning again as I slide onto the bed on my stomach, facing away from him I grimace at what's going to happen.
Part Two = HERE