They emerged from the bathroom together, breathless, George's hand clasped in Dream's. The paranoid part of George expected a crowd to be gathered outside the door, but only one irritated, half-asleep dude was there.
"Upstairs," Dream whispered, and guided down the hall, through the crowds of laughing, drunken people.
They ran up the stairs, their shoes soft on the carpeted steps. George's heart was racing, giddiness keeping a wide smile on his face. At the top of the stairs Dream grabbed him again, kissing him viciously, hands tangling up in his hair. Every time they parted, George felt as if he was breaking the surface of a pool: he gasped for air, vision blurred, his body light.
There was a doorway at the end of the hall, a bedroom with the lights turned off. Dream pulled a lighter from his pocket, and while George lingered near the door, he lit candles around the room, filling it with a flickering orange glow.
"Very convenient mood lighting," George said, as Dream walked back to him. "How lucky."
Dream smiled. In the candlelight, his face was cast in strange shadows and he looked even darker, and more mysterious. "I have a bit of a weakness for candles. Mrs. Sapnap says the aromatherapy will help my anxiety."
George frowned. "Wait...is this..."
"This bedroom is mine. No one will bother us."
It took a few moments for what Dream said to fully register in George's brain. George couldn't see much of the room, even with the candles lit. The bed had a headboard reminiscent of an iron bar gate, massive and dark. A giant bull's skull, painted black and adorned with flakes of gold, stared down at George from the wall.
"Wait...wait...this is..." George stuttered. "Did you say this is your room?"
"Yeah..." Dream looked around, as if refamiliarizing himself with the place, and shrugged. "I started living here after I turned 18."
George could hardly believe it. Dream Wastaken...living with the Sapnap family? One of the wealthiest families in town?
"How? Why?" George could dimly see nik-naks lining the nearby shelves, vinyl records, shining crystals and daggers in glass display cases. Nice things, treasured things.
"Mrs. Sapnap is a social worker," Dream said. He looked uncomfortable. "She was...my social worker. My mom wanted to keep custody of me, but not as much as she wanted to keep my dad around." He cleared his throat, and the discomfort became even more apparent - he looked pained. "I'd always planned to leave the day I turned 18. I wasn't about to stick around and get beat on any longer than I had to. I went to Mrs. Sapnap for advice. But instead of advice I got a place to stay."
George didn't know what to say. What could he say? Everyone in town knew Dream's dad was a mess, leaving when he fought with his wife and then coming back after a few months. But shit...George had never known it was like that. He never bothered to ask...
"That's...that's um..." George wanted to apologize, but nothing seemed adequate. After all the shit Dream had gone through in high school, he had to go home and deal with even more. Selfish, stuck-up kids, harassing him just because they could. It had been so wrong...so fucking cruel...
"Dream, I... I'm so sorry..."
"I don't want to talk about it," Dream said firmly.
George didn't blame Dream - he wouldn't have wanted to hash out all the demons of his past either, especially not with a person who caused some of them.
"Maybe...someday. If you actually want to hear about it. Just...not now."
"I want to hear it. Someday." George gave Dream a smile, a true, genuine smile. He meant it: he wanted to see into Dream deeper, he wanted to hear Dream talk. George didn't know if it would make up for being an asshole to him, but maybe it was a start.
Surprise, then a soft, gentle calm came over Dream's face. Dream caressed his fingers over George's collarbone, up his throat, and rested them beneath George's chin.
"Someday," he repeated. "You mean I'm not scaring you away?"
"Not at all," George reached up on his toes, and his kiss was chaste this time, an assurance instead of a demand. "Besides, I like being scared."
Dream laughed, almost in disbelief. "Oh, Gogy. You ran with the wrong crowd in high school, you know that? You would've fit right in with the freaks."
George snorted, disbelieving. "Plenty of people like scary things. I just like them a little...more." he shrugged, as if this was a perfectly normal thing, and certainly not something he had only just discovered about himself.
"Oh right, of course, so let's see: likes scary things...likes pain...gets turned on from being treated like a slave..." Dream did some mock calculations in his head as George rolled his eyes. "Yeah, definitely sounds like a freak to me."
"Oh hush." George wrapped his arms around Dream's neck. "You said you'd make me cry, remember? You're getting distracted."
"Am I?" Dream chuckled. "All I'm trying to say is that I think you would fit in with my friends. Even though...you're scared of them."
A sudden noise made George jump: a creak from the back of the darkened room...a step...a breath. His body went stiff. Something was moving in the dark.
"Dream...Dream what..."
There was laughter, eerily familiar laughter - and then three unnaturally white faces appeared out of the dark.
"Miss us, Gogy?" Punz murmured, just as George realized he was shut in a room with three fucking clowns.
George might have screamed. He wasn't entirely sure what noise came out of him as he covered his eyes, shaking his head, determined to imagine that they weren't really there. Those awful creepy faces, those wide grins, the dark-ringed, skeletal eyes.
Dream pulled George's hands down and gripped his wrists. "Oh that's not very nice, Gogy," he said sweetly. "I couldn't let them miss out on the fun. Now you can get to know them better."
George held his breath in an effort to stop whimpering. The clowns lingered in the dark, watching him, grinning at each other. His hands were shaking, heart pounding. George wrestled out of Dream's grip and clung to his shirt, pressing his face against Dream so he wouldn't see them.
"Do you want to leave?" Dream whispered tenderly in George's ear. "Or do you want to face your fear and be a good boy for me?"
George forced himself to steady his breathing. These clowns had names, and under that makeup he knew they were human, even though his brain kept insisting they were monsters. George raised his head slowly from Dream's chest, peering back at them. Their appearance was only made worse by the darkness in the room: the flickering candle flames made their features appear to shift and change in the blink of an eye. One of them - Schlatt - was crouched on the ground, eyes fixated on George. Grinning. Standing behind him, Punz was twirling something around his finger - something metallic that caught the light of the candles and flashed.
Handcuffs?
The pulsating adrenaline that had flooded through George at the sight of them began to calm. With the fading terror came a strange euphoria, pleasure wrapped in discomfort.
George slowly raised his eyes to Dream. "I...I want to be a good boy..." he said softly. Then softer still, "You're so fucking evil, Dream. I like that."
Dream grinned, and for a moment, George could have sworn he looked proud. He kissed George's forehead and said, "Be a good angel then: crawl over to them, and offer them your mouth."
Dream stepped back, and without the barrier of Dream's body between himself and the clowns, George felt as if he was looking at them down a long and narrow tunnel. George dropped to his knees and shuffled one hand in front of the other as he slowly made his way toward them, torn between not wanting to take his eyes off of them and desperately wanting to look away.
They're only human, they're only human.
They towered above him. George forced himself to raise his head and meet their dark eyes as they stared at him from the black pits they'd painted on their faces. George's arms shook as he held them out in front of him, wrists together - an offering.
"You better lock those on me," George said tightly, staring at the handcuffs Punz held.
George's fight or flight response was strong, making him twitch. Forcing himself to submit, ignoring the instinct, was filling his body with such a rush of chemicals and hormones that it felt like a drug high.
"Such a good boy." Punz locked the cuffs around George's wrists, the cold metal sending goosebumps up his arms.
Once they were secured, Punz held up the tiny silver key in front of George's face, and with a sadistic grin, rubbed it between his hands. George frowned, confused - but when Punz parted his hands, the key was gone. Vanished.
"You're ours now, little angel," Sam said, circling George.
George glanced back, and saw Dream lounging on the chest at the end of his bed, leaning back, elbows propped up on his mattress.
"Don't forget your safeword," Dream reminded. "Or three taps on their legs, if your mouth is...occupied."
Dream's gleaming teeth shone in the dark, and Schlatt grabbed hold of George's face, forcing him to look back at them.
"You look even prettier like this," Schlatt said, his voice raspy as he tried to keep his volume low.
He turned George's face from side to side, and then George felt hands in his hair, caressing it...hands touching up his back...his neck. George felt like a helpless little doll, chained and obedient, scared but ready to be used.
Schlatt's converse kicked apart George's knees, spreading them, and Sam slowly lifted George's skirt, before looking around with an exaggerated expression of shock.
"What a naughty angel. Wearing no panties, hmm?"
"Getting scared turns the little angel on," said Dream. "I have a theory that the more he screams and struggles, the more horny he'll get."
George shuddered, the frightening words having exactly the effect Dream expected them to: George's dick throbbed, his insides pulsing and clenching with the desire to be filled.
A hand gripped around George's throat, and Punz's face came close to George's as he inhaled deeply, chuckling in George's ear. His black painted lips brushed against George's cheek, then down his neck, sending shivers over George's skin. Sam came around to stand before George, and Schlatt moved back, out of George's sight. Somehow, not being able to see them was even worse than having to stare at their creepy clown faces.
Sam unzipped the front of his black jumpsuit, baring his chest, all the way down to his thick, hard cock. Dark, bold tattoos covered him like a canvas. His ringed fingers gripped his dick and slowly stroked it, and George's eyes were mesmerized by the sight.
"Can I..." George's voice shook, forming words almost impossible. "Can I taste...please?"
More laughter from the three of them, laughter that seemed to echo all around George in the dark. Punz's hands framed the sides of George's face and his fingers pressed along George's jaw, tipping his head up and back, holding him in place.
"Open your mouth," Punz hissed in George's ear.
Another hand gripped George's hair, and in the corner of my vision, Schlatt leaned down. "Open wide," he chuckled.
George obeyed, his mouth watering for a taste of that terrifying, thick cock. Sam entered George's mouth, sliding over his tongue, slowly filling his throat as George obediently kept his mouth wide.
"Make him feel good," Dream ordered, and George closed his lips around Sam's cock, sucking gently, curling his tongue around his tip. Sam groaned and began to thrust into George, hitting the back of his throat. Punz tightened his grip on George's face, holding him still as Sam used his mouth.
"Look up at him, angel," Punz whispered, and George did his best to obey, his eyes wide as he stared up at Sam, his teeth bared viciously as Sam's breath began to shudder from the pleasure.
Suddenly Schlatt released George's hair and went to stand beside Sam, unzipping his suit and pulling aside his black briefs. George's eyes widened looking at him: his dick was pierced, a curved silver bar fitted through the underside of his head. George had never seen that before - never even thought someone would do that - and he could scarcely imagine how that would feel inside his throat.
Sam tangled his hand in George's hair, fucking into him, hard enough that George's eyes filled with tears. Excitement spread through George as his cock throbbed, and Punz's hands moved from George's face to scratch down his back, leaving behind stinging lines from his nails. He reached George's hips, gripped into him, then squeezed his flesh until it hurt and George groaned. His noise pushed Sam over the edge. He pressed deep into George's throat, cursing as he came, filling George's mouth with his cum.
"Good boy, Gogy," George heard Dream get up from the bed and approach him, his boots clicking on the floor, and a chill went up George's spine as he felt Dream's fingers caressing the side of his neck.
George wasn't sure how he was certain the touch was Dream's - he just knew. Sam stepped back, steadying himself, and Schlatt wasted no time in taking his place. He was rough from the start, pressing deep and hard. The two smooth balls of his piercing pressed against George's tongue, and when he reached the back of George's throat George gagged, not used to the feeling of metal.
"Easy, angel," Punz said, and his hands slid over George's hips and down...down between his legs. "Schlatt isn't very nice, is he?"
"Schlatt needs to be more careful." Dream's voice was a command, as was the grip he briefly had on Schlatt's arm as he circled him.
Schlatt growled furiously, but he eased up on his pressure at the back of George's throat, moving more slowly, allowing George the time to get used to his size and the curiosity of his barbell.
George tried to keep his eyes on Dream, his lingering fear calming as Dream stood back to watch, a stern face in the dark. But the clowns soon claimed George's attention again; Punz's hand slipped beneath George's skirt, caressing over his dick, and George nearly came from the stimulation. He whimpered, dutifully flicking his tongue over Schlatt's cock, savoring the taste of flesh and metal. Punz's fingers slid lower - and pressed inside George.
"Oh, so wet, little angel," he murmured.
Punz pumped his fingers into George, and when he withdrew them they were slick and wet. He watched the glistening strings spread between his fingers as he scissored them before he licked them clean. Then he was touching George again, stroking his dick at a slow, firm pace, until George's folded legs began to shake.
"Make him cum, Gogy," Dream said, slipping out of George's sight again, circling the scene. Eager to obey, George bobbed his head to take Schlatt deeper, forcing himself to accept the press of the barbell against the back of his throat. Schlatt's body grew tense, his movements harsh, George's renewed enthusiasm making Schlatt moan.
"Such a good boy," he growled.
His palm made contact with George's face, a gentle sting, and George smiled as eagerly as he could with his mouth so full.
Punz's stimulation over George's dick had him shaking, his muscles tensing, bringing him to the edge of orgasm.
"He's not allowed to cum," Dream ordered, and Punz slowed his touches until it was nothing more than a tease, and George nearly screamed in frustration.
He would have screamed - if Schlatt hadn't suddenly sucked in his breath, shaking as he came, filling George's mouth.
George swallowed it down, gasping, his head light as he finally had a moment to breath normally. Every nerve in his body felt as if it were on fire, sensitive to the slightest touch, and the high of his flooding hormones made everything feel surreal. George's whole world was that dark room, those three laughing clowns, the taste of their cum in his mouth...and Dream, watching over it all like a demonic god.
George pulled on his cuffs for a brief moment, just to feel the metal dig into his skin, brutally unbreakable. Punz was the only one who remained now to be pleased, and slowly, he withdrew his fingers from George and brought them to George's lips.
"Be a good boy," he urged, and George sucked his fingers obediently, savoring his own taste, salty and smooth. He sucked on his fingers like he wanted to suck Punz's dick, and Punz chuckled as George did it.
"Well shit. How can I resist that?"
George looked up at him with a dazed smile as Punz stood and leaned over. The others watched, wordless, the sound of their panting breath harsh. There were footsteps behind George, and Dream gently kissed the top of George's head.
"Am I doing good?" George asked, his words stumbling and slow as he looked back Dream.
Dream smiled at him, and George's heart seemed to swell. There were so many small details George noticed about Dream now, even in the dim light - how his ears were pierced but he wasn't wearing earrings, that there was a crookedness to his nose as if it had broken before, that there were tiny scars around his lips and cheekbones. He was handsome...almost pretty. His eyes looked dangerous but his features were soft, hardened only by the tension in his jaw.
"Very good, angel. So good that I have a little surprise for you."
Excitement bloomed in George. Then there was a click, and something glinted in the firelight. Something metallic, gripped in Dream's hand.
"You asked about this earlier," he said, turning the knife in his hand so that every movement caught the light and glowed like the sun. "You asked if I still carried it. I do. It's the same one, the one I scared your ex off with. It goes everywhere with me, and it's always kept sharp."
George's breath felt cold in his chest as he watched the knife. The thrill of that danger, so close, made George want to both laugh and cry. The candle flames were reflected back in Dream's eyes, a burning hellfire in his gaze. George realized Dream had taken out his white contact, but he found him no less intimidating. George couldn't look away, even as his heart started up a drum's beat against his ribcage.
"This is a butterfly knife." There was another click, a flash, and the blade disappeared - folded back into the curved handle grasped in Dream's hand. Then just as quickly - click, flash - it was out again, spun through his fingers like magic. "They take a lot of practice to handle correctly...and a lot of cut fingers."
The sight of the blade was mesmerizing. George felt hypnotized, unable to look away, as if he was gazing at a holy relic. Dream lightly touched George's face, drawing George's attention back to his eyes.
"Do you want to play, angel?" Dream asked softly, and gave the knife a little shake. "With this?"
For a moment, George forgot to breath. He nodded eagerly. "Yes...yes please..."
"Do you trust me?" The knife flashed. George's heart pounded.
"Yes," George gulped. "I trust you, Master."
The blade came closer...it kissed against George's cheek and George gasped at the cold touch. It traced down, light against George's skin, to nestle against the soft, tender flush just under his ear.
"I won't hurt you, angel," Dream said. "I only want to remind you who's in charge. I only want to remind you to keep being such a good boy. So when Punz's finished, you can finally earn your reward. Understand?"
"Yes," George answered quickly, resisting the urge to nod in his enthusiasm.
That knife should have terrified George, it should have made him scream. But George hadn't lied: he trusted Dream, he trusted Dream not to hurt him - not in ways he wouldn't like.
George never thought he could experience so much pleasure just from words, so much ecstasy from fear.
He looked up at Punz and whimpered softly. "Please...please use me..."
Punz entered George's mouth, moving slowly, sliding his length teasingly over George's tongue. When George looked up at him, and saw that clown face smiling back, he felt terror twist his gut. But the fear only increased his pleasure, and made his insides tighten with desire. Dream stood behind George, holding the knife tenderly against his skin as punz still thrusted him.
"You're doing so well, angel, I'm so proud." Dream spoke gently, his voice soothing. "You look so pretty with your mouth filled up with a dick."
His words made George squirm excitedly. Pleasing Dream felt so good, knowing that he was enjoying what he saw. George had to keep almost entirely still - he didn't want to risk a cut by moving too suddenly. Instead he did his best to stroke Punz's cock with his tongue as Punz moved in and out of his throat.
Punz changed his pace as he wished, using George's mouth like a toy, gripping his hair to steady himself. Punz pressed himself, deep and slow, into the back of George's throat, moaning as George squeezed around him. He began to move faster, harder, gripping George tighter. Dream's lips brushed against George's neck, sending chills up his spine. Dream left feather-soft kisses beside the blade, praising George for his endurance, his obedience.
George moaned and Punz gasped, his breath hitching as his movements became rougher. When he spilled in George's mouth, he pressed himself deep - George nearly choked as Punz pumped into his throat. But when he pulled back, George still managed to swallow it all, and smiled victoriously.
"Thank you," George whispered.
His chin was wet with saliva - it had even dripped down to his nipples and onto his bra. The knife left his throat and Dream pulled George's head back, a wide smile on his face as he kissed him. His mouth utterly consumed George, his tongue caressing around George's. Dream pulled George up higher onto his knees, and when their mouths parted, Dream trailed kisses across George's cheek and down his throat, biting gently at his tender skin before planting a final kiss on his collar bone and pulling away.
"We need our privacy now, boys," Dream said. "Leave us."
