Pete lacked confidence and self-esteem. One day, a young man knocked him over to save his life, and by doing so, changed his life completely.
Ae wasn't interested in love, only one night stands. He couldn't get the handsome young man off his brain...
A/N: Okay, I've hesitated, I've read it over 10 times. I rewrote it. I hated it! I went back to the original draft. Screw it! It's being posted as is... I don't like to write these types of scenes, but it flowed and I went with it. Warning: SKIP If you don't like rough *ahem* I hesitate to call it, assault, because it IS with consent, kind of, read with caution.
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Trump paced in the small motel room. Pete was locked up in the bathroom. Even though he was still tied up, the bag had been removed and a makeshift blindfold replaced the bag. He was getting downright terrified, waiting.
Pete was not cooperating at all. All he talked about was Ae this, Ae that... Trump had hit Pete so much he looked like a leopard but it no longer mattered. Nothing shut him up.
Finally, there was a knock on the door. Trump peeked through the stained curtains hanging on the long windows and sighed. Two tough looking men stood outside, one was fully covered in colourful tattoos. Finally, he would have sanity again.
He opened the door and waved them in. Pointing at the bathroom door, "The golden goose is in there." The men exchanged glances and opened it. Swiftly they closed it and one walked over and punched Trump, hard, directly on the jaw. He flew across the room to land near the bed.
Snarling, teeth bared, "I DON'T want him, you fuck up. What am I to do with him?" The tattooed man growled. "I should kill you."
Stuttering, while rubbing his jaw, Trump mumbled, "I told you, golden goose! He's fucking rich! And gay! Fuck his ass and rob him blind while doing it."
The other man started to laugh manically. "I see you had success doing it. That's why that poor kid looks the way he does. You've beaten him, you think we didn't see it? He could be pretty but with all those bruises, what good is he?"
Kicking Trump in his belly, the thick soled boot made Trump howl. "I need it. I'll do anything! Just give me my candy!" He crawled and tugged on the bottom of the tattooed man's jeans. "Please, anything, I'll do anything."
Eyes gleaming, the two men shared a glance. They remembered Trump's disgust with gay men. All those slurs, and nasty words he constantly made. Smirking, the other man dropped his pants and started to stroke his flaccid dick. "Anything, you little piece of shit? You like our candy that much? Willing to suck me off for some candy now?"
He walked closer still stroking and Trump's eyes were wild. He was looking anywhere but the cock waving in front of his face. His jaw was bruised and hurting. His lip was swollen. He wanted that candy sooo badly. He licked his lips. He made his choice. He got up on his knees and reached...
The man walked closer still. He wasn't even hard. He wasn't interested in Trump. It was Trump's job to get him off. His dick was tiny, soft... he was just flipping it around. Teasing. Testing. This was life, their life. Hard reality, what did pretty boys know about them? They hated these kids who came to play and couldn't pay, figured they could float through life.
The tattooed man got off on watching him, though. They had survived by knowing that, rich or poor, people had their kinks. Even if he never got to fuck him, they were life long partners, the tattooed man and him. They'd been together for years. Everyone knew not to mess with them but this stupid piece of shit in front of them.
Trump whimpered. "What... what do I have to do?" Yes, the decision had been made.
The man playing with his soft dick looked at the tattooed man and smiled. "Strip naked and make me cum. If you make me cum, you work one year as a sex worker and all debts are paid. I don't care if you take men or women as clients."
Trump stood and slowly took off his dirty white school shirt. His body was thin and frail, compared to when he met Pete. Wasted... from his candy. With trembling fingers, he stripped off his black dress pants and kicked them aside and stood in stained black briefs. He never even saw the tattooed man make a small circle with his finger.
"Twirl for me," Demanded the man, now he was beginning to get excited. His cock was swelling slightly. Trump turned around and the man knew it wasn't going to just be a suck, but a fuck. He almost felt sorry for him but this boy caused a lot of trouble. "Take them off." Trump slid off his briefs and his wee wiener hid in his balls, he was that scared.
Trump sank back to his knees and, in shame, tried to hide his baby dick. In two strides the man was before him. With one hand, he titled his chin up and stared in his eyes. "Kid, I'm not interested in your dick size. I want your mouth." Trump's mouth opened in surprise and the tip of his dick was in thrust in. Trump gagged.
He pushed deeper into the wet warmth, feeling his teeth scrape his soft skin and loved it. He loved pain. He kept face fucking the boy and his gagging reflex pushed him onwards. Harder and harder his cock became. Trump's lip split open and began to bleed. Tears stood in Trump's eyes. The man fucked his mouth harder, hitting the back of his throat with each thrust, hands holding his head tight.
The tattooed man slipped his hand in his pants and whispered, "Perfect. Fuck him now."
The man pulled Trump to his feet and pushed him over the edge of the bed, spreading his ass cheeks. He thrust in a finger and Trump screamed. "No! Please, No! I can't... I'm not gay... I'm not... I'm not..." Two fingers and he hit his prostate. Trump's words faded away to gasps and moans.
"What... what are you doing to me?" It was a blur. Pain, pleasure, it was all mixed up now in his mind and body, when the big man thrust into his prepared asshole. Trump howled like he died.
They had forgotten to block the bathroom door. Blindfolded Pete had finally figured out where the door was and how to leave, entered the main room and screamed, "What the hell is going on here?"
The tattooed man, stood with his hand still down his pants, felt Pete was owed something. He walked over to Pete and removed his blindfold and restraints. "Watch with me." He invited, resuming his pleasure. Pete couldn't take his eyes off the huge bulge.
Pete was shocked to see Trump being fucked by a huge man, moaning and screaming. He didn't think it was from pain, but it wasn't from pleasure either. It sounded so primal, animalistic. For Pete, who had hardly even watched porn, it was like watching a train wreck happen. It was something you couldn't take your eyes off of.
Suddenly the tattooed man looked at him and said, "He kidnapped you and wanted to sell you. You want to fuck him as well? My Sin shares." Pete shook his head. He shrugged. "You can leave any time you want. We never wanted you. This man owes us. A lot. We will make sure he never bothers you again."
The tattooed man shuddered suddenly and slipped his hand out of his pants and sighed. He gave a slight smile. "I give you my word."
Pete gave one more glance to the couple going at it at the bed. He saw the blood dripping from Trump's lip. Then he noticed his eyes were closed as if in ecstasy. He bowed goodbye and bolted from the room. This was too much for him to handle. Too much!
